‘I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.’ Mikey said to himself. He looked up and recognized his own block. He started moving down the sidewalk toward...his house. ‘She’s a dirty slut. A nasty whore. I hate her. I hate that dirty, nasty, slutty whore.’ His feet moved of their own accord. ‘We wish she was dead,’ the voice whispered to him. He stopped in his tracks. ‘Dead?’ ‘That stupid whore should be dead. She deserves to be dead for being so slutty. Doesn’t she?’ ‘Yeah,’ Mikey agreed, his feet. I always liked redheaded Liz next door on the other side from Cassie, but about sixth grade she moved away and some people bought her house and planted all the field with blueberries.And Hannah. Well, her dad was transferred after sixth grade. How far away didn’t make a difference. I was twelve years old. I’d seen her at my mother’s funeral fifteen years ago. She gave me a hug. Somewhere in my files, maybe buried beneath an old manuscript, I had her phone number. I’d had a severe crush on her. More

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