A Strange Kind of Beautiful



As she sat on the cold tiles, water pouring down her back, she felt the tears running down her face and she could taste the salt in her mouth. She watched the blood run off her pale creamy skin and swirl across the tiles before running down the drain. It was hypnotic, a strange kind of beautiful. A deadly kind.

As she sat in the cold dark shower, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Random images flying through her mind. The air so heavy, like it was clinging to her, trying to suffocate her. A smashed window, the curtain fluttering in the breeze. The blood splattered across the wall. These images, flicking through her mind. Disconnected, like a compilation of horror movies.

She loosened her fist to look at the small silver locket, the one he had given her so long ago. Her name engraved on the back, written in his script. She stared down at it frozen; he was not going to forget this, never going to forgive her.

The water flowing down her body was ice cold, it made her feel uncomfortable, but helped to keep her awake. She feared falling asleep, what she would see there in her nightmares, even though she feared sleep, she was starting to wonder if being awake was much better.

Seeing the kitchen window smashed had forced her into an instant state of panic. Running up to the house and pushing through the unlocked door she called out their names. No reply. She ran to the stairs, turned on the light… but nothing happened. Damn the power must be out. She hurried through the dark empty house, worried. Thinking where was her daughter? Where was Hailey? She had asked Hailey to baby sit her daughter Kendal while she had been at work, but where were they? A wave of caution flooded over her and gave her the urge to do this as quiet and slowly as possible. As she crept up the stairs she was suddenly afraid of her own house, she didn’t understand why. The sudden stillness frightened her. It was as though if she made a noise everything around her would shatter. Suddenly she tripped over the stairs and smashed her head on the railing and everything went black.

She woke up, disoriented and confused. It didn’t take long for fear to grip her once again and chill her to the bones. How long had she been out? Her hand flew to her throat, a reaction from when she was younger, the silver locket she had since she was born. Shocked, she drew her hands away; was she so delusional? She touched her neck again, it was still there. Her locket! That was strange; she hadn’t seen it in years, not since… No she wasn’t ready to think that yet. She pulled herself heavily to her feet, pulling on the railing for support. She looked in the mirror on the wall, god she looked horrible, like a victim from a horror movie. She traced the big black circles under eyes, then the cut along her eye, it stung as she passed her fingers over it. The fear on her face made her look about ten years older.

She stepped up the last few stairs making sure not to trip this time, reaching the top she could see Kendal’s room, the door hanging partly open. A sudden wave or urgency washed over and she almost sprinted to the door, but an even stronger sense of caution stopped her. She crept quietly the last few steps to the door and timidly pushed it open with her foot. She stopped suddenly, all thoughts frozen in her mind, and sunk to the floor. She started to rock, backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards. “no, no, no, no, no, no,….” She cried incoherently. She crawled towards her daughter’s bed and grabbed her hand. She couldn’t bare to look at her body. What he had done to her. There were not even words to explain the sight. She pulled herself up slowly and covered Kendal’s body with her blanket. Now all that could be seen of her daughter was her long silky black hair.

It was time to face the facts, and it all started with her locket. When she was a child she had been her father pride and joy. The perfect daughter, smart and loyal, but like every girl, there was a boy. Her father was very old fashioned almost like he spent his life trapped in a book, Romeo and Juliet in particular. She was Juliet and James had been her Romeo. However James could ever be good enough for his daughter. When she had dared to defy her father, something inside him had just snapped.  One night when he had caught her sneaking out to meet James, he had made sure that James could no longer be her anything. He grabbed James and had beat him violently before finally killing him. However what her father had not known was that she was already pregnant, and in that way James would live on. Her father had been sent to prison for murdering James and a sense of security had fallen over her. She had assumed that after killing James that it would be over, as he would never harm his own daughter and he was in prison anyway. But now she knew it was not over. He had finally found her and her small daughter Kendal; he would never have been able to look at her without seeing James. It must be over now then, there is nobody else for him to get rid of. She now had nothing.

She had gone into a zombie like trance then, and walked through the house, not even pausing as she stepped over the body of her baby sitter Hailey in the hall. She walked into the bathroom and sat down in the shower, without even bothering to take off her clothes. She sat on the cold tiles, water pouring down her back, she felt the tears running down her face and she could taste the salt in her mouth. She watched the blood run off her pale creamy skin and swirl across the tiles before running down the drain. It was hypnotic, a strange kind of beautiful. A deadly kind.

She finally stood up and prepared herself mentally to get out of the shower and return to reality. She pulled back the curtain. And there he was, her father. The last thing she heard before she fell to the floor as the darkness closed in was her father’s smooth voice whispering “goodbye Melanie”.

As he stood there over Melanie’s dead body, watching the blood run over her pale creamy skin and swirl over the tiles. He remembered the way the light faded from her surprised eyes as he thrust the knife into her heart. It was memorizing, even beautiful, A strange kind of beautiful.


~ by Nikki on May 28, 2012.

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