Chapter 1

Donnie's first wife, Maria Mables was his first murder. January 5th, 2002, his twenty-fifth birthday. Maria had gotten drunk at the club and started calling him a pedophile and a "gooner gooch", then slapping him in front of all his friends and coworkers. She said she and Donnie started having sex when she was just fourteen, not the legal age of sixteen. On the drive home, Maria had jumped out of the car at a red light and tried to runaway. He was simply chasing her, just wanting to talk, when the car just somehow hit her. 

Of course it was all Maria's fault. She shouldn't have slapped him and made fun of his sexual problem, not in public or private. He was not a pedophile, he just liked younger women, and sixteen was legal and Maria had looked much older than her age when they met, she looked like she was easily seventeen, maybe even eighteen. She never told him she was only fourteen, not that he had ever asked. What you don't know... Anyway she wasn't a virgin, at least not that he could tell with his three inch size.

As for being a Gooner Gooch, so what if he liked to keep his hand on his penis, he had done so as far back as anyone could remember. His accompanying blank stare was normal, he was thinking, besides, he had a rare condition that doctor's had researched, it was genetic, he inherited the problem from one of his distant relatives. It was not his fault his smaller size had tripled the number of pleasure nerves, causing him to release quickly due to the additional sensitivity. That was a deeply personal medical issue, something that should have remained between them, not to be used for jokes.  

Gooner - (Internet slang) Someone who practices gooning ("a form of masturbation that involves edging for a long period of time, causing a hypnotic, trance-like state").

Gooch - (slang) To blunder or bungle; goof.

After Ronnie hit puberty his mother would often ask him if he had "gooched", meaning he had made a sticky mess in his pants.

"Ronnie! Did your gooner gooch again?"         "Yes mamma, can you bring me some tissues?"

Why Maria had jumped out of the car and ran, forcing Donnie to chase her, he just couldn't understand. He had only hit her a few times, nothing to hard that would leave a bruise, at least not ones that would show. Maria was the one who ran in front of the car after he accidentally pushed the accelerator to the floor. The car hitting her was simply God's retribution for all her sins.

Maria had flown several yards in the air, then rolled over three or four times before finally sliding face down in the dirt on the side of the road. Donnie slowly backed the car up until he was next to her, rolling his window down. "Ass up, face down, his favorite position." Donnie thought with a smile. From the angle of her head, Donnie knew Maria's neck must have snapped. He climbed out of his seat and walked to the front of his 1970 Chevy Monte Carlo, his baby since high school. There was a dent on the hood along with some blood, hardly noticeable in the dark, a few scratches on the front bumper, nothing that couldn't be fixed.

Donnie walked back to Maria, rage building due to the damage she had done to his car. "You bitch!" Donnie yelled, kicking her in the ribs, then using his foot to roll her over. The first thing he saw was that her right breast had fallen out of her bra, now streaked with blood. Maria was a 34C, just big enough, but not to big. Donnie became entranced, he found he could not pull his eyes away; time slowed as his breathing sped up. More than a minute passed before he thought to look at her face. Once beautiful, it was now covered in blood, dirt smeared her makeup, streaking her cheeks.

Donnie thought she looked like a clown.

Rather than panicking, Donnie found he was cold and collected. He knew he was in trouble, he was facing years if not decades in jail. There was no way to explain the damage to his car, minor as it was, and explain Maria's disappearance. An idea began to take root, the best way to cover up his hitting her with his car was to get into another accident, this time with Maria at the wheel. Halfway home he had run a stop sign. Maria had insisted he was to drunk so he and Maria had switched places, with her now driving.

He would simply claim he had passed out and didn't know anything.

It took Donnie over five minutes to force Maria's body into the driver's seat, making sure to adjust it for her smaller size, skipping the seatbelt in the hope she would fly out the windshield. You know, like an angel on its way to Heaven. Moving her body was much harder than he had thought, dead weight is heavy and limbs flop around. It took him almost five minutes to get the seat and mirrors adjusted

Donnie spent the next few minutes cleaning himself up before climbing in the passenger seat. As he started the car, Donnie used Maria's leg to push down on the gas pedal, revving the engine a few times. His hand caressed her face one last time. "Goodbye Maria." he whispered. Donnie put the car in gear while slowly pushing her leg down, steering the car back onto the road.

Controlling the car from the passenger seat was easy, actually thrilling. "Maria" drove slow, ten miles under the speed limit, allowing cars to pass her in both directions, with one actually waving at them. This was all he needed to establish his alibi. Donnie began to wonder if he could he survive a head-on collision. The next car coming his way he would drive into, to prove God was protecting him.

As they got closer to home, Donnie realized God was testing him. He would have to prove himself by hitting a tree instead. He pushed down on Maria's leg, the speed jumping to almost 40 miles per hour when he steered the car into a tree. He felt the car slam to a halt and bounce back, the sound of steel creaking and glass breaking filling the air. His head impacted the dashboard and as he was thrown backwards he saw Maria's body was gone.

The "accident" worked. The impact had thrown Maria face-first into the steering wheel, and then her body flew thru the windshield, landing on the hood of the car. The impact caused the car to tilt up on the right side, dropping her body to the ground.

Donnie was left with a sore neck and back, and an alibi. Major bruises from the seatbelt confirmed he was not driving.