My Heart Goes Pump

My Heart Goes Pump
By Roxanne Sackville

Looking through his binoculars, he began to fidget at the sight of her. For three long months, he had watched her eat, sleep, clean, and get dressed. He knew her. He knew what exercises she favored and what foods she ate when she cried.

Behind him, darkness in the bushes began to envelop his shadow, making him more hidden than he had hoped. He smiled without moving his gaze from her.

She knew him. She smiled and said ‘good morning’ to him each time he saw her. Her smile was radiant, her curly red hair set his heart on fire, and he was sure she knew it. He was sure she went home and thought of him, maybe even dreamt of him. Instantly sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. Without moving his gaze from her, he blinked several times.

He wanted to run from his hiding spot, the same one he used each night, up to her door where he would wait for her to answer his knock. He wanted to tell her he loved her as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her close. Yet, he resisted. Instead, he would admire her from afar, which he had grown accustomed to.

Some people would say he was sick, maybe even a pervert but he did not think this to be true. He was no sicko; he was a man admiring a piece of art—a fine piece of art.

Rustling in the bushes behind him startled him. Turning in place, he did not stand up giving away his cover, however his quick movements sent his binoculars crashing to the dirt below.

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

The rustling continued. Instinctively he remembered the stealth techniques he learned from Rambo. Rambo was a fine man and he enjoyed teaching others his techniques just as much as Ned had enjoyed being his pupil.

Shaking his head, Ned turned his mind back onto the rustling, which had begun to increase in sound. They were getting close. Ned began to worry, his body shaking, his stomach turning. This person would jeopardize his hiding spot and then Penelope might see him. It was then that Ned’s eyes changed and his mind had decided its next course of action. He would do what Rambo would do in this situation and that was to take matters into his own hands.

Quietly Ned lowered himself onto his stomach in the dirt. He reached his hand back behind him and withdrew the six-inch switchblade he had cleverly concealed in his back pocket. With his hand tightening around the handle, Ned thought of Penelope. How impressed would she be to see him defending her this way? Protecting the spot he had specifically chosen to watch her day and night.

The rustling became louder and then stopped instantly. Ned knew that the man was directly in front of him. The man could not see Ned in the darkness, which gave him the advantage.

Ned leapt up from his position and lunged forward, his switchblade held out protectively in front of him. He could feel soft tissue—skin, make contact with the other end of his blade. He could not hear any noises; it was as if he had gone deaf for those brief few minutes. Ned could feel the body stumble to the ground and he quickly jumped onto it. He could not let him get away. Ned repeatedly raised the knife high above his head and then thrust it into the body beneath him. He continued until the body stopped fighting back. With one last stab, Ned left the knife inside his victim as he fought to catch his breath. He smiled before throwing his arms up into the air as Rambo had when he won his fights.

Lowering his face back to his victim, he thrust his hands into his jacket pocket searching for his disposable camera. Ned always brought a camera and took pictures of Penelope. Tonight, however the rustling had interrupted his usual picture taking, but now he wanted a souvenir of what he had accomplished. He wanted proof of the gruesome mess he had made, one that he could someday share with Penelope.

With camera in hand, he raised it to his eyes and pushed the button. The flash briefly lit up the darkness and Ned’s mouth dropped open. He could not think, he could not breathe. All he knew was to get up off the body.

More rustling sounded behind him.

Quickly Ned panicked and turned back to the body. He had to hide her, his poor Penelope. With tears blurring his vision, he turned to her body as his shoe snagged on the root of a tree and sent his falling towards the ground.

More rustling and then voices called out into the darkness.

Ned shook his head and cried as he grabbed hold of the knife that had killed the woman he had watched and loved for three long months. Pulling the knife from her flesh, he turned it onto himself. With one swift movement, he pushed it deep into his chest. Within seconds, he knew he had hit the mark as he slumped onto Penelope’s lifeless body. Ned could feel his life draining as lights began to shine in the darkness around him. Instantly people closed in on them with flashlights.

“Ally? Ally, where are you?” a female voice screamed out. “Officer, I think I’ve found something,” the voice continued. “I told you I heard screams in these bushes.”

With his last ounce of strength, Ned turned his eyes onto the approaching woman.

“P-Penelope?” he called out with his last breathe. Ned’s body went limp, his empty eyes fixated on the redhead standing over him.

Within seconds, the Officers closed in on the scene. Penelope screamed as her eyes caught the sight of her twin sister Alison’s lifeless body beneath Ned—the gas pump attendant from the corner store.

My Heart Goes Pump


Goulais River, Canada

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 2

Artwork Comments

  • Damian
  • bluebaloo79
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.