#Excerpt from Patrick by Callie Carmen
Book Link: books2read.com/u/3krqEW
Prologue
Serial killer
I missed my lovelies.
I opened the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out my prized photo album letting my fingertips brush the steel finish of the Pierre Cardin signature embossed on the lower front of my dead mother’s antique table lamp. Not wanting to disappoint Mother more than I already had by not becoming a surgeon, I had taken to heart the need to be precise in my work with my lovelies.
I thought back on all the years when my mother had been training me, and she had brought home animals for me to work on. I’d been nervous because I knew how angry and then distant Mother got when I didn’t do a good job at my tasks. I needed to do my very best because someday when I was a brilliant surgeon, the cuts I made would save people’s lives.
Seldom did I receive praise from Mother, so when she approved of my surgical technique, joy vibrated throughout my entire body. I wanted more of that feeling; it was exhilarating. I’d once made the mistake of complaining about the smell.
Mother had called me weak and childish. She said that I’d never amount to even half the surgeon she was because I was a pathetic loser, like my father. He had left us when I was just a toddler. My mother said it was my fault because I wouldn’t stop my incessant crying and pathetic whining. After that I’d spent the next several years trying to please her, to prove her wrong, to get that exhilarating feeling from her admiration.
When I got older, I’d started bringing home what I thought most parents would have felt were the perfect women. They were good girls, girls that had been getting a higher education, staying away from drugs and any bad influences. Before Mother died, she had taken to calling them all whores. I’d broken it off with them because they weren’t good enough for her. Still, I strived to please her, and I’m certain my plan to create the perfect woman will do just that.
Flicking the lamp on, I looked heavenward and murmured, “Mother if you’re quiet you can watch over my shoulder as I savor time with my lovelies. Your demands for perfection I believe will be quenched.”
To make myself comfortable, I fluffed the pillows behind my back and leaned against the headboard. I placed the treasured album on my lap, rubbed my hand over the cover, and enjoyed the sense of calm that filled me.
I opened to the first picture, and a lock of hair fell from the page. I fingered it tenderly.
With reverence, I whispered, “Ahh, you were my first and my most special.”
I flipped the page and caught the next soft lock of hair and caressed it. I admired the fine lines that I had placed on her face as I ran my index finger over them. Her skin had been almost perfect. Now, with my superb marks, I’d made her flawless.
“My lovely, you must be so pleased with how beautiful I’ve made you.”
One by one, I gazed at three more images, honoring them for their beauty and perfection; delighted that the last two had been found and now others could see my meticulous work.
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