My Baby Faced Assassin.

By Darren Hobson

She wasn't born a killer, she was just an ordinary girl planning to go on holiday with her boyfriend who had paid and organised a welcome break from the monotonous routine of life, only that she had also planned to kick her boyfriend out of her life as soon as they returned home. What could possibly go wrong ?

It took just one little decision to transform our cute little teenager into a bloody notorious serial killer, even though she did not understand where the transformation started and who was the catalyst to aid her makeover.

In this collection of nineteen poems and ten thousand words this prolific poet drags you down one teenage girls road to hell, while most ladies grow up on a slowly rising curve our deadly assassin finds herself dropped in the deep end and this here story is about her survival and how she manages to overcome all her deadly situations, she questions herself constantly, is she cursed , is she perverse, did she do something so bad that it ruptured the fabric of reality ? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darren Hobson
• Release date: Feb 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224250103

Darren Hobson

Darren Hobson was born in Preston,Lancashire in England and moved to Italy in 1998.Currently living near Rome working for a multinational company. In his spare time he loves traveling to historical cities for inspiration him to write more intense poetry. The poet started submitting his work for inclusion in many anthologies between 1990 and 2009, but with the help of social network sites and self publishing sites he started to publish his own books in 2014.

Book preview

Piercing.

Another hot evening

Sweltering at work

Waiting the tables

Surrounded by jerks

Lots too clean

Lots to do

That’s when you notice

His eyes on you

You choose to ignore because

The boss is a little raw

Must have not slept much

His ego bruised and sore

More families arrive

Wanting spritz or sprite

You’ve got to be careful

To write those down right

Bloody pigeons attack the tables

The uneaten nuts a feast

Another glass falls to the floor

A danger to all the nude feet

Drinks are ready

The snacks are not

The sun blinds you

It’s too bloody hot.

A person drinking from a glass Description automatically generated

The Englishman at the bar

Wants another beer

Shit he drinks too much

Why does he come here

You try to be nice

Flash a quick false smile

That’s when you notice

Your boyfriends eyes on you

Piercing and burning

Into the back of your head

The stare the anger

Does he want the Englishman dead

How can he be jealous

Of an old dinosaur like him

You are eighteen after all

Not fifty like him

Your co-workers are crazy

And a little spaced out

Always too slow at work

And no balls no doubt

Tiny tips from old aged pensioners

Who only come here to ogle

Fifty cents for a little show

Enough shit to make your blood boil

The notepad is missing

And the pen has ran out

The grill house is calling

Get the aperitifs out

Running around like a headless chicken

No time to see if your boyfriend is alright

You know he’s a little bit possessive

But you don’t need his shit tonight

Another beer for the Englishman

You wish he would fuck off home

It’s not your problem he’s an alcoholic

He’s out of his comfort zone

That’s when you feel your boyfriends

Ever piercing stare

If he stared any harder

He would disintegrate your hair

Piercing and burning

Into the back of your head

The stare the anger

You hope he wants the Englishman dead

Leaning against the bar

For hours on end

A dark shadow of hopelessness

That drives you around the bend

Fuck you have burnt the sandwiches

No longer toast but annihilated

The sink full of endless dirty glasses

The boss is watching the football match

Just when things start to get busy

You find yourself in the kiosk alone

Everybody has an excuse to do nothing

Posting a new update on their phone

So you get nervous and you look sweet

But you don’t get yourself too uptight

Bottles of water for the kiddies

It’s definitely going to be a long night

Five second breather

Clean your glasses again

Check the beer of the Englishman

Tonight he’s not being a pain

Look over to your boyfriend

Your eyes interlock

What is he actually thinking

Would it come as a shock

Do you love him and his stare

Piercing so deep into you

What would his reaction be

When you tell him that you are through.

Holiday.

Everyone needs to get away

Take a break, a holiday

To relax to breathe

To meditate in self-belief

Far from bosses