Bone Deep

Synopsis

    I lay in the faint blue water in my bath. What's left of bubbles that have been in here is now just a mist. I trace designs- random swirls and whatnot, just trying to surpass boredom.

   After hours of laying in the now lukewarm tub, I pull myself over the porcelain edge in one swift movement. A moss-green towel awaits me on the other side of the room, with pruny fingers I pull it over myself.

       I pick up a gold-coated brush, my fingers feeling along the knotted design on the back. Someone gently knocks on my bathroom door and I open it, as usual. With experienced hands, they twist my hair into a side braid, not saying a single word.

   After the maid leaves, I stare at myself in the mirror. Disgust washes over me, not solely at my appearance, but at who it connects me to. My parents. I know what awful people they are, how much pain they cause. I still can't help but love them. My green eyes resemble those of my father, of this house. My bathroom is themed that way and my parent's bedroom. Accents of green are spread throughout the estate.

   My thoughts are broken off by a scream and the sound of someone sheathing a weapon. Remembering the situation I have been prepared for so many times, I open a hidden door in my closet and scramble in. My breathing escalates quickly and sounds so loud against the chaos ensuing around me. Screams pierce my ears every few seconds. Then, footsteps, though faint, are heard in my room. A sweet smell wafts into my hideaway and lulls me into a warm sleep. 

*****

   I awaken and feel a fog over my memory, why am I in here? I cautiously get out. Looking out the window I see the dew lining the leaves and a fog covering everything, this means it's early in the morning. It is deathly quiet for my house which usually has an early bustle of people. 

   As I enter the kitchen I have to pinch my nose to block the awful stench that surrounds me. The amount of pressure I am using makes it go numb. As I turn the corner I stop dead in my tracks. I feel the rush of putrid air fill my nose as my hand limply drops to my side.

      Without making a sound, I walk through every room I saw people occupying last night, happening upon the same thing. Each guest, maid, family member, dead. Their throats slit with the remnants of crusted blood around them alluding to the night's activities. Panic fills my hands, stomach, chest, and throat until whatever contents I had left in my stomach comes out of my mouth. My dress suddenly feels too tight and the room is getting suffocatingly hot. The sobs begin to escape me, and I cry until the taste of metal fills my mouth. Swallowing it back down, I attempt to take a few breaths. 

    After some time, I don't have a clue as to how much, I crawl on unsteady arms and legs to the staircase. I pull myself up on the beautiful mahogany wood and painfully ascend up the stairs. Each step is like a dagger being twisted in my heart. A rib being crushed. My movements become robotic and not my own, but somewhere within myself, I know that I need to get out. I force myself to pack a bag and leave through familiar doors for the last time.