By Audrey Harris, TIWP Student

Have you ever listened to the “Cell Block Tango?” It’s a song. For me, it is a lifestyle. It is from the musical, Chicago. It has also been transformed into a motion picture. I will not deny that I am one that is naturally drawn to the art of theater, which clearly implies that I am both one for the dramatics and most likely insane. I will not deny either. It all began when I was at the young age of seven. I had woken up from my slumber due to a startling sound. A gunshot. In my shock, I refused to move. That was all until I heard a heart-piercing shriek. More like a laugh. Startled into motion, I ran to my bedroom door and drank in the sight of my insane mother cackling over my father’s body. Blood was pouring out of him like a river and at that moment I truly did not know what to do. My mind was blank as men rushed in grabbing my mother and dragging her out. It was still blank as more men took me to the orphanage. It wasn’t until a young girl I was required to share a room with offered me an earbud. She had only a few songs downloaded on the stolen iPod in her much too small hands and that was when I heard it. The symphony of my soul. It called to me. At the old age of ten, I knew what I wanted. You see, the “Cell Block Tango” is an intriguing song. It takes place in a prison. The singers are women. Women who murdered their husbands. And each of them claim that “he had it coming” and that “if you had been there, you would have done the same.” So, at the ripe age of ten, I knew that I was destined to be a serial killer. And I already knew I was to be a gorgeous young lady. I was insane but not blind. So as the years passed, my ambitions grew. And on the day that I turned eighteen, I was finally released. I knew I needed to find a man as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be too hard. I knew I was hot and I knew that all men are desperate. My first victim was a man named Paul Williams. Oh he was a romantic. Bought me flowers each date. Too bad I had to paint those pure white roses red. The next one was Jake. Jake Thomas. Oh he was handsome all right. A body builder. I knew from the first time that I caught a glimpse of his face that I would be delighted to carve it open. Then there was Marcus Leonardo. I didn’t like him so much. He had one of those voices that made you want to punch him in the face. Or maybe shoot him. Whichever feels right. The last one was interesting. Louis. Louis Brown. He wanted to take it slow. I was fine with that. More for me. But I could always tell that there was something off. Something with the way that he talked to me, the way he kissed me, the way he was with me, period. I didn’t realize what it was until I saw him standing over the dead body of my best friend, Jane, with a knife. I knew what was different about him. He was insane, too! Oh what fun! He didn’t realize his mistake until that night when I was kissing him that he felt it. The knife penetrated his heart. He should have known. You can play with men, but never women. He hadn’t realized that I was insane, too. He also hadn’t realized that only a mere five hours earlier he had just killed my secret lover. Oh, well. I have always known that men are not the brightest.