Picture Perfect Girl

Red. A red sea swirling and swirling, bordered by pure white sands, as tired hands attempt to wash away. The owner of the hands looks up to find her own reflection staring back at her with bloodshot eyes. Her gaze returns to the stained pink porcelain sink; she doesn’t remember how long she’s been there. How long she’s been scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing. How long will it be until it goes away? Not just the blood from her hands, but the memories that go with it.



“Candy? Candy? Candace…” she could hear him calling out to her. She continued to flutter around the room, shutting every door three times. Shut, shut, shut.

“There you are,” she turned to see him standing at her door, his lips sealed in a tight frown.

“What do you want Chris?” she attempted to keep her voice level, but it still quivered slightly.

“Just wanted to check on you,” he replied, stepping into the room.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to check on me?” she asked harshly, now she had moved on to straightening every picture on the wall.

“You can tell me as many times as you want, but I’m not gonna stop caring about you,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off, and gave a tight smile, “Well you’ve checked, now you can leave,”

“Candy stop,” he said trying to get her to look at him.

"One, two, three..." she repeated quietly.

“Just stop and look at me,” he grabbed her arms, stopping her straightening.

“Let me go,” she growled.

“Not until you hear me out,” he replied sternly.

“Chris, the picture’s crooked. I really just need to…” she attempted to break free from his hold without much luck, he was much larger than she.

“No, you don’t,” he held her gaze, and she looked like she was about to cry.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know that!” she yelled, her tears spilling over. “Do you think I want to be this way? No. This, this is all her fault. Because if I don’t do it then she dies, do you want me to kill her Chris?”

“Candy…” his face softened, and so did his grip.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, and tore away from his hold.

“Then what should I call you, huh?” he asked as he stared at her back.

“Janie…” she whispered, “It’s always Janie,” Then she began to straighten the pictures again. Straight, straight, straight.

“You’re not Janie, Candace,” he said approaching her. She ignored him, and continued. “You have to stop this,”

“If I stop, she dies,” she said through gritted teeth.

“She’s already dead!” he replied, throwing his hands up, “And nothing’s going to bring her back,”

At that Candace stiffed, her petite frame looked mannequin-like as she turned to face Chris. She crumpled in on herself, and tears started flowing from her eyes.

“She’s dead…” she whispered, and stared at the walls around her. Each wall covered in frames, but the frames only held one thing. A beautiful young woman with flowing crimson hair, her smile lighting up the whole picture. Behind her was the beach, a perfect crystal clear ocean, her favorite place to be. “Janie, Janie, Janie!” Candace called out brokenly.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hushed, and came closer to her.

“Get out,” she replied, still looking at the ground. He didn’t move. “Get out, get out!” she screamed, looking up at him through her fiery hair. Then she turned back around, and placed a loving hand on the glass covering the picture.

“They don’t matter Candy,” he said quietly, “None of this matters,” he gestured to the rest of the room. She remained silent, pretending as if he wasn’t even there. “I want her back too, but this… she wouldn’t have wanted this,” he grabbed a frame from the wall, and held it out in front of him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at him frantically, “Put that back,”

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter!” he yelled, and smashed the picture to bits on the ground. The fragments of glass shattered around the photograph of the beautiful girl, leaving her with nothing but a broken smile.

“What did you do!” Candace shrieked, attempting to gather all the pieces. “No, no, no! You killed her,” she cried helplessly. Chris didn’t respond instead he ran his hand along the other frames, just daring. Suddenly he flung half the pictures from one wall, swooping his arm like a bird taking flight.

“Janie!” she screamed in agony, “Stop, you’re killing her!”

“Am I, Candy? Am I?” he said back, and then began opening the drawers and doors.

“Stop, please stop. You’re ruining everything, you killed Janie,” she said as she raced to shut all the doors three times. Shut, shut, shut. And in one drawer she spotted a silver lining, sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun.

Chris, who was still distracted destroying photographs, didn’t notice the girl behind him taking a menacing stance. She held out her shaking arms, with the silver lining in hand. He turned just in time to spot her, and the look on his face was one of distress.

“You killed my sister,” Candace stated calmly, and a loud bang echoed through the house. Then everything went quiet. She looked around at the torn apart room, and her hands shook so uncontrollably that she dropped the gun. It clattered to the ground, the glass making pretty twinkling sounds when they collided. She dropped to her knees, not caring about the sharp shards.

“Chris? Chris, please wake up,” she shook his lifeless body with all her might, “I’m sorry, please… just wake up,” she sobbed with her hands on his chest, the blood slowly soaking them red, red, red.



Straight, straight, straight.

A petite girl with bright red hair is straightening pictures on the wall of a new home, in a new town. She shuts every door three times, and always washes her hands. She sits in a room of a thousand pictures, and cries herself to sleep. The sea of red is gone, and so is the broken glass. Instead new shiny frames replace it. These frames all hold the same thing, a golden boy with an electric smile. He was far too caring with his soft eyes, and check ins. She places a hand lovingly on the glass covering the picture, “See Chris? I cleaned it all up for you. Now you’ll never die.”