Josephine Denver
His blood was all over my hands. The walls were covered by red as if an artist had painted all over them. I couldn’t hear his screaming anymore, I was feeling very peaceful; I missed that feeling so much.
I put his body in a bag and took out the trash, there wasn’t anyone in the streets although it was 7 in the morning, but then I heard Mrs. Clark, shouting across the street:
- Josie! It’s too cold outside. What are you doing out here, dear?
- ‘Morning Mrs. Clark! I just ran out for a bit to take out the trash. How are you doing?
- I’m good dear, thank you! Are your parents home?
- Yes, they are- they weren’t- I’ll tell them you say hello!
- Alright dear, I’ll see you around.
- Good bye Mrs. Clark.
I went back in the house and changed into my school clothes, then I went out to the bus stop. Max was there; he looked so calm, unlike me, I was starting to regret killing my father. The only thing that comforted me was thinking how bad of a man he was. He hated children and people in general, he hated me, his only daughter; I just wanted him to love me. It’s too bad he couldn’t.
I got to school, went straight up to my locker and Priscilla came up to me:
- Did you stalk enough people today, psycho?
- Get away Priscilla.
- Why? Are you going to murder me?
I smiled a little, grabbed my books and walked away to class. Priscilla thought that what she said would hurt me, but the rumor of me stalking Max wasn’t true, I just loved admiring his beauty; I was so jealous of him.
Why does everyone else get to be normal? That’s so unfair. My whole life I have wanted to have happy thoughts, but they just weren’t there. It was quite disturbing, even for me, that I’m considered a psycho.
I got a text from mom asking me where dad was, and letting me know that she was still in Chicago, also that she wouldn’t be able to leave that day because of the weather, and I was happy to know that. I needed to plan what I was going to say to her. Dad left? Dad’s gone forever? Dad’s gone on a trip? Dad has another family? Dad’s dead? I killed dad? There were so many options but none of them seemed like the right one.
I was overwhelmed and nearly about to cry. I got another text from mom:
- Josie? Are you alright honey? Why aren’t you answering?
I was mentally and literally stuck in my room. What was I going to do? One day had passed and mom was already on her way home.
I drained my thoughts into a letter to mom; tears were going down my cheeks as if I was creating my own waterfall. I was as pale as a cloud and as done as my dad’s life.
I grabbed a knife and cut my wrists. I was done with life, but I left my story behind. Everyone was finally going to meet the psycho girl.
As I was cutting my wrists, I heard noises around the house. It was late at night and mom was going up the stairs. She was going to see me, her only daughter, killing herself. Little did she know I was also a murderer.