darker_london | Sunday Bloody Sunday. Josie. R

His name was Bernard Terence Trust, age fifty two, balding and built like a wild boar. For twenty six years Alfred High had been his second home, his workplace, his dominion. Its burning had hit him hard, but he'd spent long hours working into the night trying to secure another premises. The building was little more than a skeleton, black bones rising from the scotched earth where classrooms full of children used to be.

In less than an hour's time, his own body would be little more than blackened bones. Josie had known where his house was since the first time he had put her in detention. They'd egged his house that first time, vanishing round the corner before he'd even opened his door. Now Josie leaned on his green wooden gate, swinging on it's hinges as she watched the house. Bernard Trust was a single man, always had been. He was married to his job and making the little children suffer, building a world of rules around her and locking her up in detention should she dare to speak her mind, to follow any path other than the one deemed appropriate. He'd been after his since her first day, making her high school life completely miserable and now it was all going to come back to him.

Brushing her hair behind her ear, she dismounted the gate and pushed it open, brand new heels clicking against the cobblestones of his path. The door was open, so she let herself in and had al ook around. She screwed up her nose, how could anyone bear to live in a place that smelled so strongly of man.

Cigarettes, coffee, socks and some kind on animal all contributed to the air of urrkk. Disgusting man.

Disgusting man who had a gas oven. Josie had to laugh, this was too easy! She danced around the house, singing softly under her breath Sunday Bloody Sunday, and closed all the windows. Soon, the smell of gas overpowered everything else. Josie pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a butchers knife, then crept into the hallway, calling in a singsong voice. "Bernard! Oh Bernard!"

There was a noise behind one of the doors and Josie shoved it open. "Good morning, headmaster!" she chirped, running her finger down the blunt edge of the knife. He recognised the knife before he recognised her and backed right up against his wardrobe doors hands held in front of him.

"Miss Rhydderch, what a... surprise. Please put the knife down- what do you want?"

Josie smiled, she could feel the fear thick in the air. But oh, ew, he was sweating like a pig. "I just thought I'd pay a visit... return a favour."

The look of confusion was evident on his face, and even after she'd slashed the 'F' deep into his torso it didn't go away. He stared at his chest, blossoming blood faster that should be possible- and whimpered. Josie savoured the moment when his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees before her, swaying back and forth with the sudden loss of blood. She drew back a fraction and kicked him hard in the teeth, spraying blood over the nice floral wallpaper as his head snapped backwards.

Poking the screaming man with her toe, she rolled him over and searched for a wallet. It would be such a pity to burn all that wonderful money he must have made making her life a living hell. He wasn't wearing it -Ah, there it was, sitting on his bedside table, open and everything. She pilfered fifty two quid while he watched, quiet now, the carpet soaking up the blood.

"Can you smell it, Bernard?" she asked. "The gas? It's going to burn right through you like it did that school." She moved over to him again, stepping over his body to close the bedroom window properly. "You should have seen it, Bernard, oh! The colours! Reds and oranges, black and white, you should have felt the searing heat. I thought of you, as I watched it burn, and I though, Mr Bernard should see this. He should. So I came all the way over to your very own house so I could show you. Now don't go closing you eyes!" She crouched down beside him and pulled his eyelid back off his bloodshot eye. "I did all this especially, I don't want you to miss it, but I don't think I can trust you to stay awake long enough for me to get out of the house. So..." she waved the knife in his face, then yanked hard on his eyelashes and sliced off his eyelids, grimacing at the blood that touched her hand. "Be attentive, like you always told me. You never know when something fascinating might just pass you by."

She left the knife lying beside him and skipped off to the bathroom to wash her hands. It washed off easily, turning the spiraling water in the sink a light shade of pink. He was making weak little pained noises again, the sounds of an animal dying far too slowly for its liking.

It would be over soon. Josie carefully closed the back door behind her and clicked back down the cobblestone path. Once she'd reached the street she pulled out the black lighter she had tucked into her bra, lit it, and tossed it hard. It landed close enough to the crack under the front door to do its job, and seconds later the entire house was glowing with beauty.

Josie wiggled her fingers and smiled at the fire, then took off as fast as she could run towards the nearest underground entrance, loosing herself in the crowds.

And that was the end of that.