I was happy, back before she left me. Since then I thought about her non-stop. When I woke in the mornings I wanted to weep. At night I just wanted to die. I almost hated her for what she had done, but I new the real her, or maybe it was just the first her. She had promised me so much, herself. I was sure I could never compensate for that, but she assured me that all she truly wanted was a life with me. I could have sworn that she loved me, but now I know it must have all been a lie. If she had the love for me that I had for her, then I know there was no way that she could have left me.
It was just another day in the same old house, my parents screaming in the background as I got ready for school. I now hated school with a passion. There was nothing worth going for anymore. I used to go to see Eve, but now I just went to get away from the fighting. All my parents did anymore was scream and yell, they probably always did that I just tried to block it out then as well as I tried now. The night before, my father had beaten my mom and before I could even get to her she was out cold. I had had to carry her out to the car and transport her to the hospital. When the nurses asked her what happened she said that she had fallen down a flight of stairs, with her sweet voice that she used to use on me to comfort me or to tell me everything was going to be all ok. Then I used to believe her, but now I was immune to her words and sadly everyone else’s. I could not help but love my mom but it tortured me to see her stay in his house and deal with his problems.
Just then I heard the bus halfway down the street. I dashed out the front door right before my father could get a firm grip on either my neck or my collar. I was not sure which one he was aiming for, but I was not hanging around long enough to find out. An action like this would have usually caused Mom more pain and trouble, but she had to leave the house to do laundry today from my father’s stupid outbreak last night where he had destroyed the washer. This meant he would not dare hurt her. He was angry and aggressive but he was not stupid. He would not hurt her if someone was going to see her. He would never damage his reputation with anyone besides us.
The cold of the winter penetrated my jacket and consumed me. I embraced it. It was a pain without scarring. I stood there until the bus finally pulled to a halt. Climbing aboard I looked for an empty seat. Sadly, there were none. I finally ended up sitting next to this odd kid, with average brown hair and brown eyes, horrible acne, wretched looking glasses and even braces. Figuring that he couldn’t find anything worse about me than himself, I felt safe. Immediately he turned to the person closest to him and went to speak. I was wrong, it was like I was in his head hearing everything he was thinking about saying, and none of it was good.
“Hey look! It’s that kid who used to be whipped by Eve.”
“Yeah I know, look at him. He’s such a fail.”
The pain struck me again. It was a pain I did not want. It struck me like my dad had done so many times before. It was not that he called me a fail, or even that they were talking about me, I was used to that. The pain was her. Every time someone mentioned her or said her name, it was as if I was being stabbed by an icy blade over and over again until I was almost ready to crack. Finally after enough gossip I turn to my MP3 player for a distraction. I blasted it all the way, yet another thing that hurt, but again this was the good hurt. I had become accustomed the music genre “Screamo.” I did not really like it, but it was the only thing that had succeeded in blocking everything out.
“Good Morning class!” this was Mrs. Letterman, the only teacher I had ever remotely cared for. Most of the teachers treated me like crap, if only they had known. Her long red hair, baby blue eyes, and young face would be permanently imprinted on my mind.
“Morning,” came a few grumbles from the back of the classroom. Mine was cheery, surprisingly so, the first time I had managed to show enthusiasm in weeks now. I always seemed to be one of the few glad to be in her senior language arts class. I was only a junior, but she had approved of me so much that she had bumped me up a class.
”Today will be a free day,” Mrs. Letterman continued, with yet again a few poorly executed cheers. “Write whatever you want to write as usual. Now go get your journal and write,”
I managed to make it through that class and the next until lunch. The only reason I had made it thus far, was because I had not had to see her angelic face. Unfortunately our eyes locked as soon as I walked into the cafeteria. She was sitting down at her new table, with her new friends, in her new life. It made me sick. She used to despise those people and now she hung with she like they had always been one of them. I almost believed she was going to smile at me with that smile she would give me any time she saw me, the smile that drove me crazy. Maybe she thought she would smile too, but then her face turned to hate.
“Look at him, like oh my gosh. He looks like one of those Goth kids or something,” she spoke those words without appearing to have a second thought about it. I can only hope it hurt her as much as it hurt me to hear that beautiful voice utter those words, with that level of despise. The whole table laughed at her like she had just told the most hilarious joke ever. I only shook my head and sat down. Those people who I once considered my friends gathered around me. I did not want friends anymore. I knew I was just a spiraling ship falling into the ocean losing control and I did not want them to be the passengers aboard when I collapsed like the Titanic itself. I was liable to self destruct and the thought of bringing them into whatever I might do was terrible.
“Hey William! Why did you not call me on Saturday?” Fyona’s questioning voice came. She was a nice, fair girl with pale eyes, hair and skin almost like snow. She was pretty though. She could probably get any guy she wanted if only she would bother to dress like any other girl her age. She was always seen wearing baggy clothes with holes that were probably men’s clothes five sizes too large for her. She was like a child when they wear their dad’s or grandfather’s old t-shirts to bed.
“Oh, sorry, uh, I was kinda busy,” busy tearing my dad off my mom, then getting hit myself, busy thinking about Eve, then crying, busy pretending that I was a normal person in a normal life with a normal family, then being torn back into reality and realizing none of that would ever happen.
“Aww, well we all went to see Watchmen I hope you don’t mind, I really did try to get a hold of you. It was amazing.”
“Sure, OK,” I mumbled. I could care less about some stupid movie right now.
“You know you really need to get over her. Dude, she’s no good for you if you feel like this over her,” Eathen knew exactly why I was the way I was. All of my “once were” friends knew, but Shawn had told them to not bring her up and so far only Fyona would listen. Every time Eathen brought it up I just wanted to punch him in his dark face with that stupid curly black hair and his perfect jaw line. Maybe I would break to where he would not be able to say her name or mention her ever again.
“Shut up! Bringing her up over and over again will not make him feel any better,” Shawn spoke up after watching my face turn from normal to agony to hatred within twenty-two swift and agonizing words. “Look just ignore Eathen, you know he was never known for being much of a people person. I’ll help you kill him if you want.” At this they broke into a soft laughter, but I did not find it funny. I had thought of murder so many times before, mostly just killing my father or Eve. Eve and her perfectly formed lips, her cheeks like roses, her soft perfect auburn hair, with those emerald eyes that felt like they were peering right into your soul. We had had so many conversations with just our eyes. I even would sometimes have to ask her to talk to me just so I could hear her soft sweet voice. I knew I would never forget any of her, especially not her smile.
I stood up and walked out. I could not take their voices sounding so happy like they actually enjoyed their lives, they might have but I did not want them to. I wanted them to suffer like I did, but not suffer because of me. As I walked past her table I heard her talking to one of those stupid cheerleaders.
“Oh my God, this weekend is so like totally going to suck. I have to go to some place in West Virginia and camp in the awful log cabin. It’s probably full of bugs and dirt and other gross stuff,” she never even though to talk like that before she joined their stupid clique. I knew where she was talking about, and she had never thought it was horrible before. We had been there together with her family. She loved camping and being in the outdoors. She even loved the supposed dirty and gross bugs. Nothing made her happier then the smell of the fresh air and the clear look at the stars. She hated the city.
I knew what I had to do. Instead of Eve’s sweet face smiling at me like I was her guardian angel, it would be Eve’s sweet face gazing at me in terror like I was a demon form hell. Her shrill calls for help as I ripped her silken pale skin from her body and slit every square inch of muscle I could find. Her screeches for her dead parents filled my mind, those wonderful and wonderfully dead parents whom she would never see again.
“You are thinking something you shouldn’t be. I can see it in your eyes, it’s bad and it needs to stop. I know whatever it is, you’ll regret it. I know you too well,” Shawn’s eyes began to bulge. He was the only one who had gotten up and followed me. I almost felt as though he was in my head hearing my thoughts being played over and over again like a broken tape recorder or scratched disc. I could not let him care about me anymore. I had to leave him hating me or I would hurt him. We had been friends too long for me to do anything or even think about him hurting in anyway. We had been friends since we were seven. He was the only one in my life besides Eve and her family who knew what really went on in my family. He was the only one who truly knew me.
“Shut up! I’m sick of you thinking you know me. Just go!”
“What?” he said surprised. I knew he must have been. I surely was. In all the years we had been friends neither one of us had talked to the other in such a manner. “You feeling Ok?”
“No but I will be as soon as you get out of my face,” more words that pierced like ice.
“Wow, nice. Thanks. What the Hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing now,” these words came out just as I slammed the front door of the school in his face.
I walked out to my car and stood. I needed to get out of here fast, but without being noticed. I got in and drove, as I drove I thought about how I was going to kill her. I did not want to kill her parents. I loved them. Her father, Jason, was the closest father figure I had ever had. It made me hurt, just like everything else recently, to think that I would have to kill them. I would have left them alive but I knew no matter how much they liked me; they would have done anything to keep their daughter safe, even if it meant killing me themselves.
I would have to kill them first of course. I would make their death quick and as painless as possible. I did not know how I would kill them yet but I would have to use supplies around the house. I started to plan how I would kill Eve. First I would trap her, after I killed her parents. She would have to see them before I hurt her. She would be tied down to the bed. The mattress would be off and the sheets on the ground so I could wrap her up in them and throw her out like the trash she was. I would gag her and tie arms and legs to each corner of the bed so she could not kick or struggle against me. Then the sharpest knife in the house would begin to penetrate her perfect skin and the blood would gush out like a water fountain. It would be little tiny slits in skin at first, and then once I was done with that I would cut a deep cut and peel her skin back for her to see. Eventually she would bleed to death and I would have nothing else to do. Days, or maybe even weeks later someone would come through and notice something odd about the house. Maybe it would be the lights off and the car in the drive, maybe the smell of death would have surrounded the house unnoticeably, or maybe they would notice the extreme amount of flies buzzing around the trashcan I would throw her in, but they would find them and I would not care. They would find the weapons I used on Gloria and Jason, and then they would find the knife I used to kill Eve, then they would find her body. They would analyze the weapons and find my fingerprints. Then they would look for me, but they would not find me where they expected. I would not go back to my parents and bring my mom in on it. I would find somewhere to stay out of sight for a while and once I saw the crime on the news I would go ahead and turn myself in.
Finally I decided to start driving towards their cabin. I would make it there before she would and I would park my car somewhere they would not see. Then I would hike up the road to their cabin and wait just outside the clearing around their house and watch them. It would be easy. Eve would probably take her usual walk every time they stayed there, and then I would strike. While she was out her father would be first then her mother. Jason would be first to go because he would struggle the most and I would need to surprise him. That would be hard. Jason was a very alert man always suspicious and always careful.
Their car finally appeared in the drive. They got out and took their supplies inside. It was only a matter of time before I would see Eve exit the house and start walking in some direction or the other.
After about half an hour she left. I walked up to one of the windows and peered inside. Jason was walking around the main room and Gloria was walking into the bathroom. She had bath robe on so she was most likely going to take a bath. How much easier this would be than I had thought.
I waited until I saw Jason walk into their room, and then I entered the house. It smelled musky and old, but it smelt like comfort, a comfort I had experienced so many times before but I would never again be able to enjoy. I heard Jason walking, getting closer to the bedroom door until I heard the knob twist slightly. I hid in the linen closet. He sat down with a cup of tea and a book, and what a good book it was, The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. I remembered reading it in ninth grade, the thrilling tale of his revenge against Fernand, who stole his true love Mercédès. In a way I was Edmond Dantès, getting my revenge for losing my true love. I heard the water from the bathtub finally turn on. Now was my time to attack.
Jason sat up and as picky as he was he could never deal with that couch without constantly fixing it. He turned around and that was when I made my move, I grabbed the hatchet they had in there in case of emergencies. Instead of it being there to help them, it was now there to help kill them. I swung the door open and went at Jason with the hatchet.
“Gloria?” then he looked straight at me, hatchet almost touching his scalp. “William?”
“I’m so sorry, I really do love you,” then the hatchet fell through his skull, within seconds he was on the ground bleeding out. I checked to make sure he was dead. He could not just be left there suffering, bleeding out with his skull split like a coconut.
“Jason, are you ok?” Gloria’s sweet voice filled my ears. She turned the water off, to listen I imagine. I had to kill her now or my whole attack would be ruined.
I ran into the bathroom, and saw the heater plugged in and on.
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!” the screeching was unbearable, “oh William are you ok? What are you doing? What are you doing? Why do you…”
I threw the heater in still plugged before she could even finish her last sentence. Her whole body shook, then froze. Her eyes were still open, the same eyes her gorgeous daughter had.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated the words over and over again until they just faded out like I had stopped saying them, but I was still thinking it. I sat there on the floor for what felt like an eternity but when I actually thought about it, it was only an hour, an hour of my own built hell. My purgatory was worse than anything I could imagine. I killed two of the most important people in my life, and I was about to kill my only true love. I was the Devil and these were my victims. I had stopped believing in God forever ago. I gave up believing in him, before I had prayed night and day for my quote mommy and daddy to stop hurting each other. I wanted my “mommy” to be happy and to be pretty again. My mother was so beautiful when she was not covered in bruises and did not look sleep deprived. She used to climb in bed with me and sleep. She would never sleep with my father. When I got older she started to sleep on the couch, but then my father would walk in and scream at her. When I was eleven I took my blanket to the living room and slept on the couch. I told my mom to take my room. Back then my father still loved me and did not abuse me. Even though I slept on the couch that night my father still went in my room yelled at her and beat her even more. That was the first night I got between my father and mom. That’s when I first got hit by him. I never forgot the pain. I did not care about the physical pain, it was that the man who was my father hit me. I just kicked and hit him until he picked me up by my neck and threw me against the wall. I hit my head so hard that I was knocked out. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up on the couch the next morning tucked in with my mom.
My mom was covered in bruises, her lip bloodied with a black eye. Later when I saw my father however, he looked worse than she did. He had claw marks all over his face to where it looked like someone had put him in a blender. That was the first time I had ever seen my father like that. My mom usually looked bad but never as bad as that night. Finally she had taken up for us both. I knew that it had been the worst fight they had ever been in, but there would be worse to come before was I old enough to leave.
Just then the front door opened. It was Eve. I stood up and walked to the dining room. The first room as soon as you entered the house.
“Daddy, I’m back,” then she turned and saw me. “What are you doing here?”
I walked into the main room knowing that she would follow me. She didn’t say anything for a moment, but then I heard her gasp. He was on the other side of the coffee table and only his feet and head were visible.
“Daddy!!!” I knew she would call for her dead parents. “Mom?” she ran out of the room faster than I had ever seen her move. She ran from her parent’s bedroom to her bedroom and finally to the bathroom where she began to scream. She walked out, gasping for breath with her hands clasped around her mouth. She ran to me crying. I guess at first she didn’t know I had done it. I wrapped my arms around her. It felt so good to hold her in my arms again, but then the good feeling turned to anger and I squeezed her, almost crushing her rib cage. She screamed again, in pain. She looked up at me and saw the pure disgust on my face. Her eyes widened and tears came flowing out uncontrollably. She realized what was really happening.
She broke loose then ran to the front door. I grabbed her hair in her cute little bun and pulled her back to me. She slipped out of my grasp as her hair cascaded down like a waterfall, strands of her hair left in my hand along with her clasp. She ran again, but to her bedroom. I followed her, not running but walking, there was nowhere else for her to go if she was in there. They kept the screen on the windows locked to keep people out while they were gone. I reopened the door and walked into see her there. She lifted up her arms and then I saw the Sig in her hands. It was the gun her father left in her closet for her protection. She was a great shot but not a killer. She never once went hunting, and always objected to Jason and her uncle going out in November to hunt. I kept walking to her anyway.
“Back off William before I shoot you!”
“I’m sorry,” I crept closer.
“I said back off William, NOW!” it was not anger in her voice it was sorrow, and it even made me sad.
“I’m sorry,” I inched closer yet again to where I could have grabbed the gun if I wanted to.
“Get away or I swear to God, I WILL kill
you!” My hands wrapped around hers and I grabbed the gun.
“Now Eve, we both know you do not want to do that. Calm down and we will talk this through.”
“What’s there to talk about you killed my parents,” I could almost feel her heart racing. It beat like a thousand horses running across a field. It was loud, but actually soothing. I took the gun from her and again she fell into my arms. How stupid she had become since she joined the preps. I stroked her hair, running my fingers through it for the last few moments of her life. Then I picked up the gun and put it against her temple.
“Oh,” she gasped again, as if she was surprised I was going to kill her, but instead of backing away from me or struggling, she just buried her head into my chest more. She wrapped her arms around me and cried. Tears began to flow from my own eyes landing in her soft hair and falling down her cheeks. It hit me that there was no way I could kill her. As I had known, I knew the real her, but now I knew it wasn’t the first her, it was just her. I could never kill what I had once loved and still loved so much, but I could not live with what I had done to her. I pulled the gun away from her head and turned it to my own.
