White
1/1
She looked out the steamed up window, the heavy layer of snow on the ground made the view a white and grey blurry picture.
She looked at her lap, where her hand was lying, restlessly.
“When can we leave?” His voice sounded tired, cutting the dead silence that had spread around the house, followed by the cracking of the old wooden staircase.
She turned her head to look at him.
The big brow chair she was sitting in was hard and uncomfortable and her surroundings were stuffy making her feel like she was suffocating. She turned her head to the window again, dragging her hand across the glass allowing herself to see better the landscape.
She felt insane, like she was living in a madhouse, surrounded by white.
Maybe she should be in one.
“Have you been getting any sleep?” He asked standing next to her. She turned her head at the sudden proximity. He was so quiet with his steeps. “You don’t look fine… Maybe you’re sick or something; let me see if you have a fever…” He said lifting his arm, reaching to touch her.
She caught his hand in middle air, shoving it away, retrieving her arm to her lap. The contact was starting to repulse her.
“Mm fine.” She mumbled barely audible in a weak attempt to make him go away.
They all were starting to repulse her. But she liked them. More than all the others
“You should get some sleep.” He said, turning around and leaving silently much like the way he came here.
She faced the window; a white, half transparent layer was covering it again.
“Don’t you hate this weather?” She turned her head sharply to look at the blond girl.
“I hate being here.” She said. The most she had said since the day before. Since before she had stayed up all night counting the time, waiting for it to be over.
“I’m sorry honey. I understand. I hate it too but we have to wait.” She said trying to calm her. She was calm. Like all the other times, she knew the pain in her head would be gone soon.
The blond girl come closer and reached her hand. She was ready to repel her, but her hand never came close to her skin, touching across the window instead so she could see clearer what was outside.
“There seems to be more snow everyday.” She commented. “The landscape looks so beautiful, don’t you think?” She looked at her waiting for an answer that never came, so, like all the other, she gave up and went back to where she had come from.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there looking out the window. It was always like this. She didn’t remember why this started; all she remembered was the urge she felt the first time. The same urge she was feeling now. She didn’t remember staying for a long time thinking, savouring what was to come the first time. She didn’t remember because at the time she didn’t know what was to come.
But now. Now she couldn’t wait.
She stayed in the same place like a statue for only one more minute deciding how she was going to do it this time.
Her hands didn’t shake.
Her hearth didn’t beat faster.
This was for her own good, because her head would rest after it was over.
How over it was going to be, she didn’t even know.
She got up heading for the kitchen. She wanted to make a mess this time. She wanted to feel it on her hands for more than a second. She wanted the feeling to stay with her until she cleaned herself up of this town and forgot.
She wanted to satisfy her urges for longer. She wanted to have more time to play next time.
She opened all the drawers.
Knives. Forks. Bigger knives. Bigger forks.
She picked up the biggest knife, drawing a thin line of blood on her skin.
Sharp enough. She smirked. She couldn’t wait. But she couldn’t rush it either.
She closed the drawers silently.
She walked to the stairs with light but big steps. The same way she walked up the stairs. Carefully so the old wood wouldn’t give her away. She wanted to be a surprise.
She stopped on top of the stairs listening.
She heard laughter. Happiness.
She followed the sound standing on the doorway. Studying.
There were three of them. No one saw her yet.
She hid herself behind the door. Deciding.
She decided for the bathroom. The white floor and walls were so inviting to make a mess in them.
She closed the bathroom door after her and hid her hands behind her back.
She called for the blond girl. She was the first. She liked her better.
The door opened. The girl looked at her confused.
“Do you need help?” She nodded, smirking. She knew she was freaking her out.
The girl watched her with curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat.
With a fast movement of her hand the girl fell to the floor. She kneeled next to her. Taking the knife out from where she had craved it on her chest.
She smiled a genuine smile and took a deep breath. The smell of blood was filling the small room; the blood was filling the floor, soaking her clothes with red.
She opened the girls mouth pulling her tongue out. Gripping the knife she cut it out with a fast movement.
“You talk too much. I like the silence.” She whispered.
Finished with the blond girl she got up. She called the boy, cleaning the blood of the knife and assumed the same position with her hand behind her back.
“What’s wrong?” He asked opening the door. Then he saw the blood, the girl. “Wha-”
He fell to the floor. Exactly like the blond girl. She kneeled again and pulled his arms from his chest, where they had fell and stretched them on the floor one to each side. She raised the knife and craved it on his wrist forming a deep cut. She repeated.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
She picked up his hand and threw it off the way.
“On to the other.” She sang quietly moving to the other side of the body and repeating the process. She picked up the bluish hand and placed it next to the to her.
“Now you can’t touch me when I don’t want.”
She heard a scream coming from the open door. She looked to see the shadow of the last girl disappearing. She picked up the knife and ran downstairs but there was no one there anymore. The phone laid face up on the table next to the couch.
“Is someone there? Miss?” She heard a muffle voice saying from the speaker. She ignored it and went into the kitchen. Nothing. The drawers were still open from when she took out the knife.
Only she had closed them.
She turned around sharply craving the knife on the girl heart. She fell to the ground.
She dropped the knife and walked out of the kitchen. She passed the phone on the table and went to sit on the armchair by the window. She pulled her knees to her chest and drew her hand across the window leaving fat lines of red from where her fingers touched the window.
She remembers hearing sirens outside. Flashing lights, red and blue.
Voices.
“Will you please come with us?”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh God! Come look at this!”
“Be very careful.”
“What do we do?”
“Bring her with us.”
A hand on her arm.
Blood on her mouth.
“Stop moving!”
“Give me the tranquilizer!”
“Be care-”
Black.
“I think we might be dealing with a severe case of schizophrenia.”
White. Forever.
She looked at her lap, where her hand was lying, restlessly.
“When can we leave?” His voice sounded tired, cutting the dead silence that had spread around the house, followed by the cracking of the old wooden staircase.
She turned her head to look at him.
The big brow chair she was sitting in was hard and uncomfortable and her surroundings were stuffy making her feel like she was suffocating. She turned her head to the window again, dragging her hand across the glass allowing herself to see better the landscape.
She felt insane, like she was living in a madhouse, surrounded by white.
Maybe she should be in one.
“Have you been getting any sleep?” He asked standing next to her. She turned her head at the sudden proximity. He was so quiet with his steeps. “You don’t look fine… Maybe you’re sick or something; let me see if you have a fever…” He said lifting his arm, reaching to touch her.
She caught his hand in middle air, shoving it away, retrieving her arm to her lap. The contact was starting to repulse her.
“Mm fine.” She mumbled barely audible in a weak attempt to make him go away.
They all were starting to repulse her. But she liked them. More than all the others
“You should get some sleep.” He said, turning around and leaving silently much like the way he came here.
She faced the window; a white, half transparent layer was covering it again.
“Don’t you hate this weather?” She turned her head sharply to look at the blond girl.
“I hate being here.” She said. The most she had said since the day before. Since before she had stayed up all night counting the time, waiting for it to be over.
“I’m sorry honey. I understand. I hate it too but we have to wait.” She said trying to calm her. She was calm. Like all the other times, she knew the pain in her head would be gone soon.
The blond girl come closer and reached her hand. She was ready to repel her, but her hand never came close to her skin, touching across the window instead so she could see clearer what was outside.
“There seems to be more snow everyday.” She commented. “The landscape looks so beautiful, don’t you think?” She looked at her waiting for an answer that never came, so, like all the other, she gave up and went back to where she had come from.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there looking out the window. It was always like this. She didn’t remember why this started; all she remembered was the urge she felt the first time. The same urge she was feeling now. She didn’t remember staying for a long time thinking, savouring what was to come the first time. She didn’t remember because at the time she didn’t know what was to come.
But now. Now she couldn’t wait.
She stayed in the same place like a statue for only one more minute deciding how she was going to do it this time.
Her hands didn’t shake.
Her hearth didn’t beat faster.
This was for her own good, because her head would rest after it was over.
How over it was going to be, she didn’t even know.
She got up heading for the kitchen. She wanted to make a mess this time. She wanted to feel it on her hands for more than a second. She wanted the feeling to stay with her until she cleaned herself up of this town and forgot.
She wanted to satisfy her urges for longer. She wanted to have more time to play next time.
She opened all the drawers.
Knives. Forks. Bigger knives. Bigger forks.
She picked up the biggest knife, drawing a thin line of blood on her skin.
Sharp enough. She smirked. She couldn’t wait. But she couldn’t rush it either.
She closed the drawers silently.
She walked to the stairs with light but big steps. The same way she walked up the stairs. Carefully so the old wood wouldn’t give her away. She wanted to be a surprise.
She stopped on top of the stairs listening.
She heard laughter. Happiness.
She followed the sound standing on the doorway. Studying.
There were three of them. No one saw her yet.
She hid herself behind the door. Deciding.
She decided for the bathroom. The white floor and walls were so inviting to make a mess in them.
She closed the bathroom door after her and hid her hands behind her back.
She called for the blond girl. She was the first. She liked her better.
The door opened. The girl looked at her confused.
“Do you need help?” She nodded, smirking. She knew she was freaking her out.
The girl watched her with curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat.
With a fast movement of her hand the girl fell to the floor. She kneeled next to her. Taking the knife out from where she had craved it on her chest.
She smiled a genuine smile and took a deep breath. The smell of blood was filling the small room; the blood was filling the floor, soaking her clothes with red.
She opened the girls mouth pulling her tongue out. Gripping the knife she cut it out with a fast movement.
“You talk too much. I like the silence.” She whispered.
Finished with the blond girl she got up. She called the boy, cleaning the blood of the knife and assumed the same position with her hand behind her back.
“What’s wrong?” He asked opening the door. Then he saw the blood, the girl. “Wha-”
He fell to the floor. Exactly like the blond girl. She kneeled again and pulled his arms from his chest, where they had fell and stretched them on the floor one to each side. She raised the knife and craved it on his wrist forming a deep cut. She repeated.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
She picked up his hand and threw it off the way.
“On to the other.” She sang quietly moving to the other side of the body and repeating the process. She picked up the bluish hand and placed it next to the to her.
“Now you can’t touch me when I don’t want.”
She heard a scream coming from the open door. She looked to see the shadow of the last girl disappearing. She picked up the knife and ran downstairs but there was no one there anymore. The phone laid face up on the table next to the couch.
“Is someone there? Miss?” She heard a muffle voice saying from the speaker. She ignored it and went into the kitchen. Nothing. The drawers were still open from when she took out the knife.
Only she had closed them.
She turned around sharply craving the knife on the girl heart. She fell to the ground.
She dropped the knife and walked out of the kitchen. She passed the phone on the table and went to sit on the armchair by the window. She pulled her knees to her chest and drew her hand across the window leaving fat lines of red from where her fingers touched the window.
She remembers hearing sirens outside. Flashing lights, red and blue.
Voices.
“Will you please come with us?”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh God! Come look at this!”
“Be very careful.”
“What do we do?”
“Bring her with us.”
A hand on her arm.
Blood on her mouth.
“Stop moving!”
“Give me the tranquilizer!”
“Be care-”
Black.
“I think we might be dealing with a severe case of schizophrenia.”
White. Forever.