Hi guys this is my first story here in wattpad and I hope you guys will come to like this story. And this is unedited so if there are any mistakes pls point them out. And that’s it I guess, ENJOY :D
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“We now go to Brenda Dale for a flashing news report,” the television barked, waking my unsuspecting victim.
“Hmm, whmm arm yomm..” She mumbled, her voice muffled by the duct tape in her mouth. Her eyes, clear shades of gray, sharp and alert. The hatred and vengeance she had for me was exhilarating. I think I’ll enjoy killing this one.
“The hair maniac strikes again. I’m Brenda Dale and I’m live reporting on another murder case here on Naerth County. The victim, Marcy Stone, has been beaten severely and her scalp has been cut off. A trademark of the hair maniac. With sixteen deaths under his belt, who will stop this monster from killing more people? I’m Brenda Dale and back to the studio.”
I turned the T.V off completely. “You have nice hair. Would you like me to brush it?” I asked as nicely and carefully as I could.
She shook her head furiously, from side to side, her hair covering her face. I pulled her hair. Hard.
“Listen. You.. You will do as I say and you will do it happily or else. Do you want me to send a video of you dying to your family and your friends? Now nod if you want me to brush your hair!” I exclaimed, forcing out the tremor and loudness of my voice out of my mouth.
She nodded slowly but tears were coming down her face. “Ok I’ll make this quick, just close your eyes and think of a happy place.” I approached her but as soon as my knife touched her skin, the cops bust off my door.
“Lift your hands where we can see them!” One of the cops shouted, forcing me to comply. As soon as I did, he approached me and handcuffed my hands behind my back. “You are under arrest for the sixteen cases of first degree murder and one case of attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent.” He walked me out to the police car and I glanced once more to my victim, vowing that I will kill her one day. I laughed the whole trip to the city prison. I was to be sent to a maximum security prison after a few days, and I had until then to figure something out.
I just wanted to go home. To my family. To my old life. To the old me. But It would never go back to the way it used to be. That bastard had taken my strength and will to survive. My family looked at me differently, as if I’m this fragile doll, easily broken with even the slightest touch.
I cowered in my bed as I recalled that harsh memory. That nightmare haunted me again. I would always wake up screaming and my parents would come rushing to my room with a bat and a gun, ready to attack my assailant. But as soon as they realized I had another nightmare, they would sit at the uncomfortable wooden chairs near my bed and sing me a lullaby till I fell asleep. Sometimes It never went away. I would pretend to be sleeping and they would give me their hugs and kisses and leave.
Once in a while, I would leave my room and explore this strange and unfamiliar place called my home. Since the incident, I would always lock myself in my room, to protect me against anyone who may want to cause harm.
“S. You came out today. How wonderful. Would you like to join your father and I for breakfast?” My mother spoke, her voice tinted with hope. She eyed me carefully, as she waited for a response. I tried once in a while. To belong. To be their little girl again.
“Sure.” I gave her a weak smile.
I walked our silver-tiled hallway to our dining room. It was extravagant but I it felt empty. A chandelier, lamp lights, and Silver Ware: some of things families wished they had in their dining rooms. We weren’t particularly rich but we make more than enough. I sat down slowly on one side of the dining table, the side directly opposite to my father’s.