Page 78 of The Blue Rose
“My mom isn’t dead.”
Now she looks confused. “Uh, yeah, she is; she died, like, six months ago and then you disappeared. I thought it’s been long enough of this silent treatment, so I came over to tell you to knock this shit off. It’s getting old.”
I point to my mom’s room. “She’s not dead. I was just talking to her, telling her about work.”
“Work? You haven’t been to work since she died, Serena.”
I shake my head. “No; that's not true. You’re lying.”
She grabs my arm and drags me to my mom’s room, opens the door and points to her bed. “See? She’s not there; hasn’t been for six months. You’re crazy.” She walks back into the kitchen, and I just stand there looking at the dusty room.
My head begins to throb, and the longer I stare the more intense the throbbing becomes. Soon it becomes a pain so intense, my vision blurs and the room starts spinning. I close my eyes, clutching my head. I cry as I remember it all. Remembering I killed her.
I go back to the kitchen, my fists clenched, and teeth grinding. Jessica has her nasty little finger in my sauce tasting it. I take the knife from the counter and go back to chopping the onion.
How could I forget my own mother’s death and that I was the cause of it? What is wrong with me?
Jessica snaps her fingers in front of me. “Earth to Serena. Believe me now?”
“What?” I ask, still chopping.
“That your mom is dead. That you’re crazy and forgot. I don’t know how you could forget or why you thought she was still alive, but I can’t wait to tell everyone about it.”
I glance at her, anger coursing through my veins. “Fuck!” I pull my finger up, sucking the blood off, from where I cut it when I wasn’t paying attention.
“Are you dumb or something? Your blood is going to ruin dinner,” Jessica sneers, pure disgust on her face.
I pull my finger out of my mouth and look at the blood seeping from it, then look at the knife. Grabbing it, I glare at Jessica, and say, “Actually, your blood is going to ruin dinner.” I slice the knife across her arm. Blood pools out.
She screams, gripping her arm. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
I smile at her. “I’m crazy; isn’t that what you said?” I ask, cocking my head and stabbing the knife into her thigh so she can’t run. Jessica falls to the ground, grabbing her knee and crying uncontrollably. Her blood looks so pretty coated on my knife. My heart pounds, my own blood singing and begging for more.I want to make her bleed. I want every last drop of her life.
Snatching her hair, I drag her to my mom’s old room and throw her on the hardwood floor. She kicks, and screams, desperate for me to stop, but I’m bigger than her. She always loved to point that out, and now it is to my advantage. I sit on top of her and start punching her face, blood spraying everywhere. I take the knife and slice it across her chest, watching as the blood drips down, soaking her shirt.
She tries to buck me off, so I wrap my hands around her dainty little throat and watch as the life leaves her. Her eyesclose and head falls to the side. I’m breathing heavily and angry. Angry she opened my eyes to my mom being dead. Angry my mind was playing tricks on me. Angry I didn’t get to torture her, if she died. I check her pulse. Still there, but barely. The anger starts to dissipate knowing I get to make the bitch, who made my life miserable for so long, scream.
I get up and walk to the kitchen, grab a chair, and slowly drag it down the hall. I go to the garage and grab some rope to tie her up with. Grateful my dad already has everything I need. I lift her body up, the rage inside me boiling over at how light the bitch is, and set her down. I tie her arms behind the chair and her feet to the legs, making sure it’s tight enough to leave marks. I want herperfectskin to be ruined.
Going back to the kitchen, I grab a glass of water and the blow torch I was going to use for creme brulee, numb to everything except the task at hand.
Walking back to the room, I splash the water on her face, startling her awake.
“What the fuck?” she groans as she starts to open her eyes and she tries to move, but quickly realizes she is tied up. “Are you out of your mind? Untie me right fucking now!” she screams.
“Not gonna happen,” I smirk, shaking my head. “Now be quiet, this may hurt.” I shove a sock in her mouth and bend down to slice her achilles, making her scream. Though it is muffled, it’s still loud enough for me to enjoy, a sinister smile, like the one Cheshire wears spreading across my face. I watch as her legs start to shake from the pain, and tears pool in her eyes. She glares at me with such hatred, it makes me slice the other one.
That’ll show you, bitch.
I trace the knife up to her face, placing the blade against her cheek. “You’ve always been so beautiful, Jessica. And you alwaysloved to make me feel less than. I wonder how you would feel if I destroyed the one thing you love.” Her eyes go wide, and she starts pleading through the sock. Her cries go unanswered. I feel so much joy. So much power. Making her be the one begging for once. I place my hand to my ear. “Huh, what’s that? I can’t hear you? You want me to slice your beautiful face?” She starts shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I slowly drag the blade across her skin, watching as a red line forms behind my blade. The blood slowly drips down.
“You know, red never was your color. Maybe we should try something else. What do you say?” She doesn’t answer, turning her head away from me and squeezing her eyes shut.
This fucking bitch thinks she can look away from me; I’m going to make her look me in the eyes as I take away her power.
I take the sock out of her mouth, wanting to hear her beg and she spits at me. A wicked laugh escapes me, echoing around the room. I wipe the spit away, my eyes going wild. “I’m going to fucking ruin you when I get out of here. I’m going to have you locked up forever. You’re going to regret doing this to me. You’re a coward. A loser. A-” I silence her by shoving the sock back in.
“What makes you think you’re getting out of here?” I ask, head tilted and my hair falling over my shoulder. She cries, fear finally replacing the anger in her eyes.
