I want to kill this bastard. I’ve been teasing him for awhile, the way I’m supposed to, as guided by my mother and my instincts. She taught me how to do all that is necessary to ensure my survival. She taught me how to steal the very essence of a man.

I now dangle him by the threads of his sanity. I pull his strings, even the strings that do not help me. He makes and does whatever I ask of him, as long as I play my “position”. Who would have thought that so many would fall for me, like prey for the Black Widow.

He likes that I can change my style up. He likes it when I dress up like a hoodrat, or when I change into a hot soccor mom, ready for action. At the end of this, it doesn’t matter, I’ll be back on top and he’ll just be another man on the eleven o’ clock news. I can hear it now, “——(it’s not like the name ever matters), an x years old young man, was killed over a drug dispute in the…”