Hatred Fills My Blood.

The following morning, Zacky slithered out of his messed bed. He stood for a few seconds at the open window, letting the morning air breathe on his face. Zacky loved that about California, the mornings were peaceful. There wasn't any screaming from children, or even adults. This was Zacky's ideal world, and soon everything would be just like the view from his bedroom.

Once pulling himself away from the calm breeze, he wondered back over to his bed. He pulled on some clothes, only to find that his skinny jeans were becoming tighter by the day. Already two buttons had sprung off his favorite shirt.

"Why I am I so fat?!" Zacky yelled into the reflection that looked back at him from the mirror. He touched the reflection's face with a finger and sighed heavily. "No wonder no one wants to go to Prom with me. Fat ass!" with that he punched the mirror fiercely. Shattering a part of the glass into a million jigsaw like peices. His hands covered in blood, the pain shooting through his body but Zacky liked the pain.

"Zacky? What are you doing up there?" his mother called, concern in her voice. Her lip quivered nervously because she knew something was wrong.

"Nothin' I'm uhm.." Zacky began, then gave a short pause, thinking of what to say. "Gettin' ready." He bit down hard on his lip rings making his bottom lip pull tight. He wanted to tug on the rings so much that they would actually rip out. "No. That would hurt too much."

Zacky gave one last glance at himself in mirror, and exhaled heavily. He hated the fact that everyone called him fat. He knew he was chubby, but not fat, surely? It wasn't like he was obese so he didn't understand why everyone made fun of his weight.

He plodded downstairs the left foot before the right. Dodging his sister, Zina's shoes on the way down. "Wassup with you, fattypie?" she laughed. Zacky narrowed his eyes tightly, not wanting to show his aggression in front of his parents. He was their 'good little boy' and he'd do 'no harm, to anyone'.

All through breakfast Zacky thought about who his first victim could be. "It can't be someone they know," he muttered. "I need a plan!"

Finishing breakfast he rushed out the door, quicker than ever. His mother smiled, glad that he was finally taking some interest in going to school. But that wasn't where he was heading, today, he had the first ever driving lesson. And his first ever victim.

Amanda Harley, Zacky's driving tutor met him at the gates of the driving centre. Her smile was clearly fake, in fact, everything about her looked fake.

She shoved out her tanned hand, that was a different shade from her wrist. Her nails that sickly red color that women seem to wear and a few so called gold rings scattered on her delicate fingers. "You must be.." she started, then flicked through her notes. "Zachary Baker, right?" she smiled that fake smile again.

"Zacky, actually," Zacky stated, irritated by her naming him 'Zachary'. Only his mother was allowed to name him that, as far as his mind was concerned. Amanda apologised and pulled her hand away, shocked somewhat that he didn't take her kind gesture.

There was absolutely no kind gestures going on in Zacky's mind, and Amanda would be the unfortunate one to find that out first.

They both walked swiftly over to the car that would be Zacky's for this course. An old, rusted red BMW sat in the parking lot. It looked like nothing had even been inside it for a few years.

"This?" spat Zacky, disgusted by the quality of cars available. Amanda shrugged, "I'm sorry. It's all that's here today. Everything else is in use." Her high pitched voice was already irritating.

Zacky climbed in the front seat, eager to get going. Amanda already sitting in the passenger seat. "Alright, Zachary, today we are just going to see how you drive. Is that okay?"

"Zacky," he muttered. "Fine."

He revved the engine and set off, he knew how to drive; he'd done it a few times before. With his parents' car. Obviously they were oblivious to this.

"You're doing pretty good for a learner," Amanda staggered.

"Why, thank you, 'Manda."

Amanda watched Zacky's hands curve around the steering wheel like there was no tomorrow. His grip was tight. "Hey, where are you going?" she asked, suddenly realising that Zacky had driven out of the centre car lot.

"For a spin." Zacky laughed in his head, knowing secretly that on this 'spin' he would be the only one to return. Amanda didn't think anything of it, seen as he could drive so well.

There was something about him that made her heart flutter, despite being married she wanted some fun. Her fake tanned hand slid onto Zacky's thigh and she pressed her nails in.

"Eh? What're ya doin'?" Zacky looked quickly between her and the road, pressing his foot down on the accelerator a little more, making the car go faster.

Amanda moved nearer, "Don't try and play games with me. I know you like what you see."

Zacky laughed again in head, no he didn't. She was nothing like his type. He decided to play along anyway. "You're right. How about we stop somewhere... quiet?" he whispered.

Amanda agreed of course. Something that she shouldn't have done, but she was stupid enough to.

Reaching a destination that seemed quiet enough, surrounded by trees, nobody would hear Amanda's screams. Perfect.

An arm slinked over her shoulder and around her neck. "You're really beautiful," Zacky muttered, kissing her lightly on the neck. Amanda's cheeks flared with red, almost the color of her sickly nails. Shame that color would soon fade, isn't it?

The hand gripped tighter, squeezing Amanda's veins together. Making them unable to pulse.

"Ha! You think I like you? You're nothing but a fake," spat Zacky. He clambered on top of Amanda and wrapped both hands around her fragile neck. She struggled to breath, panting only a few words. "What.. are.. doing.. go!"

Zacky looked deep into her ocean blue eyes and smirked. "You're dead meat."