One thing was sure: now that I knew what I was capable of and knew that there was no way I could end Franks life, I was getting used to the fact that if I flipped I could act on it. I was full of love, but also full of rage. Earlier I had felt this renewed love for Frank, we were feeling like a couple of teenagers wanting to make love all the time. I wanted to touch him, kiss him and feel him inside me. But then it wore off, and the rage came again. I was experiencing very high ups and deep, deep downs. And if I didn't change, it could well be always like that. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or that it would corrupt my mind.

One day, two weeks after my last murder, I was feeling very down. I didn't know how to feel, what to do or what to think. It made me very irritable. Frank had noticed it and apparently he didn't know wether to give me more attention or to leave me alone. His hesitant behaviour only made me more annoyed.

It was evening, saturdaynight, we were watching tv. I had been unusually quiet all day. Frank came sitting close to me, and put his arm around my shoulders.

“I think 24 is really exciting.” he muttered, with his nose in my hair.
“I think Jack Bauer is so stressy, his heart would have stopped beating when he was four.”
“Aw, that's just mean. He's a hero, saving our country.”
“Yeah, right. He's a one-man-army, saving the States all by him self. It's not realistic, and therefore very boring.” I lit another sigarette. Was that my fourteenth today?
“24 and boring. Those are two things that don't go together, Mandy.” Frank smiled, and he looked very attractive. He got up to get another cold beer. I also stood up, I was too restless to sit down a whole evening. I stood in front of the window, watching the city, a sea of lights and sounds.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Frank whispered, after taking a sip of his beer. He put his arms around me.
“Hi there, cutie. I'm sorry I'm in a bad mood all day, but I'm just feeling strange.” I confessed.
“It can happen, darling. Maybe it's just hormones.”
“There's much more to it than hormones, you fool.” I said angrily. The pictures of Frank lying dead on the floor (the bathroom, the livingroom, the hall) shot through my mind and made my body feel numb.

“Well, maybe you could enlighten me by telling me what's on your mind.”
“I... I can't tell you. Yet.” I couldn't look him in his eyes.
“Why do you get so angry all the time, Mandy? It's just not fair, I'm human too, you know.” He shouted, and turned away from me. He paced through the room with large steps.
“I'm not so sure of that.” I whispered.
“I have feelings, I hate it when you snap at me, when you look at me as if you despise me.” Frank gestured with his beer and it splashed on the floor. “You shout at me, you even punch me often. It has to stop, Mandy. Maybe you should go in therapy.”