I had made the previous mess even bigger. Puddles of crimson flooded spots of the granite floor; why you had murdered Mr. Muzz was and still is beyond me. I stuffed parts of his muscles in one black bag, the rest of his dismember body I stuffed into another bag.
Making five trips I couldn’t stand it anymore. The weight of death hung over my shoulders. The stench filled my nose as I threw the bags out in the yard. I let the dogs out and they ravished through the bags and ate everything like savaged wild animals in the wild.
I stood behind your mother closing the entrance doors, your mother yelling at a constant rate. “I told you not to make a mess Amor!” voice booming, eyes popping.
“And I did mother! I apologized what else do you want?” Your tiny voice yelling back. It didn’t sound right, it wasn’t right!
You never talked back to your mother, if you did you were always punished. Either thrown outside, starved, or beaten; with your upbringing it was expected, not every rich child is born with a perfect or close- to-perfect life.
“I expect it clean!” Helen screamed marching out of the room.
I was pushed into the piano room, landing on knees and palms. “You heard Mother! Clean it up Nadia!” you yelled slamming the door shut. After so, I continued to clean.
I stood in the doorway overviewing the now cleaned room. I heard mumbles at the dinner table as I dashed down silently like any trained servant. Helen argued about having to find a new teacher for your skills. You sat there chopping on your small chicken with a side of bread and red wine.
“Go ahead, Helen.” You whispered, a deep and frightening tone.
Later that night, it was the start of your demise, the start of my survival. At first I only heard the howls of the wind. I hurried to close the window, my feet shuffling past each other. I remember very clearly what I heard.
I heard the screams of the dying. The blood, shrieking scream of your mothers’ voice; turning on my heels, I ran fast to my employers’ room. There you sat, on top of your mothers’ bloodied body. Your bright blondish white hair was dim against the moonlight. The bed sheets pushed aside in a big pile.
Breath rugged and hard, I started to run. All I could think was,” This is the end. No children of my own…mansion filled with laughter.” It was strange because I didn’t hear your light footsteps behind me. But I felt your cold stare.
Breaking through every door, I busted through to my room. My haven…my childish haven. A sudden heat whelmed over my body; my heart beating faster than a small animal. A first, the whistling of the wind got me…tickling the hairs on my skin.
“Knock, knock!” You slightly mumbled, into the wood of the door.
“Oh god…” Even though I hadn’t reacted so violently to the death of Mr. Muzz this was taking a different toll on me. Locking the door I scrambled to the vent that laid outside my window. Struggling to lift the glass up the door clicked. With a echo to the screaming opening of the door.
“Your suppose to say, ‘Who’s There!’” You yelled, dashing at me with rocket dash. I pushed myself out and over the window, making it late as you left a gash on my calve. Your laughter echoed through the house and outside to my ears.
Running to the front door I had a strike of brilliantine. I took a deep breath, and busted through running towards the phone that hung on the wall. Picking it up I hurriedly dialed 911.
“Hello?” voice breaking up from the cord being unnaturally twirled, from its usually curl.
“Hello! This is the Lacey Mansion! Please send-“ the cord broke and flung back to attack my wrist. Letting a scream out, you stood before me with a frown on your blood painted lips.
“Boo!” You giggled, a pointy object shining by the moonlight. The blood rushed out of my face as I sprinted towards the entrance. My wound stopped me on my leg widening and the fact that you grabbed my hair and pulled me to the ground.
“Peek!” You screamed as you sliced my skin and clothing on my arm. “A!” you shrieked slicing my hip as the blood trickled down. “Boo!” You screamed, pressing the blade against my neck, the sharp tingling feeling gripped my nerves with a clash.
“Goodnight, Nadia!” you giggled, a smile so demonic that your teeth looked like fangs and her eyes look like those of a beast. Taking my chance I used my unharmed arm to grab your arm and slam you against the floor.
Without hesitation…I stabbed you. Gutted you. An odd counter of eight times; eight years of life and eight painful strikes of pain to declare your life taken back.
By then I was covered in a dry patch of crimson blood, and soon the police were outside the gate as I stumbled out, taking in the beautiful scenery. The dull and lifeless tress that somehow breathe a new life into me; and the sad expression of the earth, as it’s colors looked down in a dull way.
I was taken away, kicking and screaming, no, I was dragged away and thrown into the backseat of the automobile that allowed dust to get inside. And here I am, telling you this story all over again. I truly do not know what went through your mind but…I miss the girl who kept that smile on her face. As I get my sanity throughout the job.
Amor Elizabeth Lacey, I forgive you.
The young woman who broke free from the cell ran toward a well-known waterfall. The droplets of water sinking into her skin as angry men screamed and chased after her. Her bare feet sunk in the dewy grass below her as she thought to herself, “Life well spent, Nadia Beers.”
Jumping with her own two legs she pushed off into the depths of the water, only to land with a splash and a lifeless body. Spine spilt in two and ribs crushed from impact.
Nadia Beers died with a smile of vengeance on her face, sun rising moon drowning.
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