Cold Blood

❥ Chapter Nine ❥

Written by ChemicalWonderland

Everett's mother's house, 10 years ago

"Mom, I'm home!" I call into the silent house, kicking the front door behind me shut with my foot.

She doesn't come running over to ask me how my day at school was, in fact, there's no response at all. The air is humid and thick with quiet. Its usually never this quiet.

"Mom?" I call out again, venturing into the kitchen.

Maybe she's left a note telling me she went to the grocery store or something. But as I survey the kitchen to see if she left a note for me, I find nothing. A little bit uneasy, I walk into the living room. She's not there. I check every room on the first floor, feeling my anxiety getting increasingly worse. I'm overreacting, I tell myself, but the words do nothing to convince me otherwise.

Slowly heading upstairs, a strange scent hits my nose, sickeningly sweet and metallic. As I reach the top of the stairs and stand outside her closed bedroom door, the stench is even worse. It's coming from her room.

Hands fumbling for the door handle, I slowly turn the knob and push it open. What awaits me on the other side is something I will never forget.

There's a thick rope tied to the ceiling fan, and from that rope dangles my mother, covered in blood. Her body still sways slightly from the rope that's fastened around her neck in a death grip. The skin around it is red. Deep knife wounds decorate her entire body, crimson blood seeping down onto the carpet and staining it the color of wine. Her face is strickingly pale, as white as the sheets that are on her bed. Her tousled dark hair hangs over her face, flecks of blood on the strands. Her arms are held limply by her sides, and it becomes clear to me that she's dead.

"MOM!" I scream, running over to her body as hundreds of emotions flood through me. Salty tears sting my cheeks as I bawl my eyes out, rubbing my eyelids raw. Every memory I have of her flashes through my mind, and boiling rage swells in my stomach like an enormous angry wave.

"WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?" I yell as if I expect an answer. My words are choked out by the tears and the lump in my throat.

As I hold on to her cold body as if I'm hugging her, I notice a sheet of paper on the bed. My heart plummets, and I reach over to snatch it up, nearly tearing it in the process. Words are messily scrawled onto the notebook paper with thick black ink, swimming before my eyes. I can barely read what it says, but when I do manage to decipher enough of it, I'm livid.

Say goodbye to momma.

How could someone do this!? What evil has to live in their body for them to stomach this!? I begin ripping the note into tiny little pieces, finding joy in the torn shreds. It feels like I'm tearing whoever did this apart. Stuffing all the tiny pieces into the clammy palm of my hand, I crumple it all up into a ball. Running over to a window, I open it up and, in a fit of uncontrollable rage, chuck it out into the front yard, watching as the ball unfurls and the separated bits of paper fly away in the wind. Watching the words falling like snowflakes to the ground, I realize that I'm still crying. Some of the tears have dried on my face, causing my skin to feel like it's being pulled taut. I wipe away the tears, biting my tongue and setting my jaw. Not daring to look back at the horrendous sight of my mother's dead body, I clench my fists and think, whoever did this is going to pay dearly. . . with their life.

▸▸▸

At a coffee shop, 2 years later

I watch the girl from halfway across the shop, analyzing her. Her face is heart-shaped and pale as a ghost, freckles dotting across her cheeks. Curly red hair spills over her shoulders, wild, bouncy ringlets. She has brilliant blue eyes, a pale sky blue. She wears a flowery sleeveless dress. As she laughs with the person across from her, her shoulders bounce with her hair. I feel myself blush. She's perfect.

She says a few more things to whoever she's with, and then looks at the watch on her wrist. Surprise flashes across her face, and she begins to gather up some used napkins and a now empty coffee cup. The other person stands up and gives her an affectionate hug, causing jealously to boil in my veins. She walks over to a trashcan and throws away her things. Then, slinging a tassled brown purse over her shoulder, she waves goodbye to the person and walks across the cafe. I'm fascinated with everything about her. How carefreely she walks, her gorgeous eyes, her beautiful hair. She's like a goddess.

Entranced, I push out my chair and stand up just as she passes by me and heads out the door. Now's my time to act. Following suit, I open up the doors and head out of the shop.

The sky is cloudy, and I can feel tiny flecks of rain pricking at my bare skin, chilling me. The sun is hidden behind the steely gray clouds, casting the earth in a gloomy aura. Wind tosses the trees about, creating a loud wooshing sound.

The girl stands on the curb beside a trashcan, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. She's clearly anxious about something. As I come closer, I can see that she's texting someone.

"Where are they?" she whispers frustratingly, groaning. I take this as my cue.

I clear my throat behind her to make myself known, then say carefully, "Are you okay? I just happened to be pass by and saw how frustrated you were. What's the matter?" it's a shot in the dark to strike up a conversation, but I just hope it works.

The redheaded girl turns to me with a smile, causing heat to flood my cheeks. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be getting someone to pick me up, but they're not showing, I'm fine though."

"Are you sure you're fine? A storm is coming and you'll just be standing out here in the rain, I can give you a ride if you want?" the request is desperate, and I know it.

She waves a hand casually at me, saying politely, "That's very nice of you to offer but I think I can just wait here." Anger boils in my veins. Was she seriously turning down my offer?

Looking around to see if anyone is watching us, I'm delighted to find that we're the only ones out here. The people inside the coffee shop are going about their everyday lives, not paying two teenagers any mind and the road is strangely absent of cars.

Taking this as my opportunity to strike, I quickly grab the knife from my pocket and get the girl in a chokehold, bringing my weapon to her neck. She gasps for breath, taken utterly by surprise.

"What are you. . ." She starts, but I don't allow her to finish her sentence.

"Listen here you stupid bitch. You're going to follow me behind this building and you're not gonna say a word, got it sweetheart?" I growl under my breath.

I can feel her body shaking against my chest, and she begins crying. "Shut up," I say calmly, tightening my grip on her. "Crying won't save you now."

Then, pulling her across the parking lot, I drag her to the back of the coffee shop near some dumpsters. Trash litters the ground, torn plastic bags and half-eaten bits of food. Throwing her body against a red brick wall, I look her dead in the eyes.

"W-why are you d-doing this t-to me?" She cries, her voice filled with terror.

"I thought I told you to shut up!" I say in response, angry with her disobedience. Running at her and pinning her down with my body, she screams.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" I suddenly yell, raising my knife and bringing it down on her neck.

She wails in pain, a shrill noise filling the silence. Someone will hear her screams and come back here, which means I have to kill her faster. Stabbing her again and again in a blind rage, I don't even register the fact that her body has gone limp as she falls into me. Blood spills down her chest like dripping paint, the work of a deadly artist. A wonderful feeling fills my stomach, and all my rage has disappeared. Her eyes are rolled into the back of her head, revealing pearly whites. Her once pretty dress is now stained crimson, her limbs stiff and motionless.

I stare in wonder and amazement at the glinting blade in my hands, seeing my shocked reflection looking back at me. I did it, I seriously did it.

A fit of manic laughter escapes me, as if I'm some evil villain. Throwing my head back, the laughter shakes my entire body.

I just committed my first murder.