The next days, I kept quiet. It had been quite scary to kill Frank right where people could see it. It had been a thrill, but it was also dangerous. I didn't want to end up in jail. I'd drugged Frank again, and I enjoyed the friendly and calm relationship we had.

But I felt more and more like I had to juggle with too many balls. I had to ask my doctor for valium again, had to tell my parents Frank had a contagious desease, which they seemed to believe, but how long could I keep this up? I had to sacrifise a lot for my passion! My cunning mind set itself to solving this problem, and came up with something to try.

The problem was that Frank knew I wanted to kill him. He remembered that he died and maybe there was something I could do to wipe that from his mind. Maybe if I damaged his head very badly, it would erase those memories. His body had to build up his brain from scratch, and it was possible that the newest memories would be gone. It was a long shot, but worth a try.

So one day, I came home from work (I had to show my face there once in a while), and snuck a very heavy garden ornament I had bought inside. It was a large, fat Buddha, with a friendly smile on his face. It weight like a thousand pounds, so it could do some damage.Frank was napping on the couch, so I quickly took it upstairs and dragged Buddha to our bedroom. My heavy little friend krept behind the curtains, and waited patiently untill my plan would come into action.

I went downstairs and sat next to Frank on the couch. He woke up and smiled to me. Suddenly I got nervous. Maybe from tonight on, our lives would take another turn, maybe Frank could be his normal self again, not knowing of my deep and dark secrets. Like it was before he realised what was going on. No worries at all, the pleasures of a true and meaningfull relationship. And murders... I smiled at Frank, and we made dinner together, in which I didn't put any valium.

Now I had to be carefull to be sure everything would go as I wanted it to go. He was not supposed to escape like he tried last time. Nothing happened that evening, Frank wanted to watch 24 again, season five, which he had already seen, but I guessed he was secretly in love with Audrey, which I didn't mind, because she was a cute girl and I liked watching her. All the excitement (well, not to me, but to mindless fans of 24) of the show made Franks blood apparently flow faster, and he seemed to come round quickly. Before we went to bed, he took a shower and crawled next to me under the covers, all warm and perfumy.

“Kiss me, Frank.” I whispered. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. His dark hair was humid and smelled like tropical flowers. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, but I crawled closer to him. “Or would you rather kiss Audrey?”

“Well, she seems nice and sweet. Something that I can't say of you, hon.” he said sarcastically. I didn't know how to respond to that. Hell, why was that fat Buddha on the other side of the room?!

“Yeah, I'm sorry I'm not as lovable as Minny Mouse.” I muttered, and caressed his chest.

“Cut the crap, Mandy. It's not my fault I feel this way. Look at yourself.” He pushed my hand away and turned around. Hah, he could act as if he's cold as ice, but I had felt his nipples and the desirable item between his legs grow big. Well, maybe after tomorrow...

It took me a long time to relax. I kept listening for signs that could warn me that Frank was awake, but after a long time, I knew he wasn't. I slept light and woke up immediately when Frank did. I did all I could to give the impression that I was still in dreamland. I heard how Frank took his pants and shirt, walk silently to the door and left the room. I waited untill he was almost ready in the bathroom, and got up. I grabbed the Buddha by his neck and bottom and walked to the door. I heard the steps of the stairs moan, softly, as if they didn't want to let him go without my knowing. My hands were steady as they quietly opened the door. Then I ren to the stairwell, where I saw Frank look up in surprise, and I raised the heavy statue above my head. Buddha loved being a missile, because he flew like a non-aerodynamic rocket through the air, untill he hit Frank right on the forehead. The impact made Frank fall backwards from the stairs. I quickly ran down, and looked at my handywork. I picked up Buddha, and set him aside. Franks face was almost unreckognisable, a big bloody mess. His forehead was totally banged up, a large hole. His skull was deformed. I guess Buddha made quite an impression on Frank. If this wasn't braindamage, I didn't know what was. I hoped Frank had spiritually changed after this “accident.” I couldn't wait to see.