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Amy had never seemed to fit in. She had never stayed in one place long enough to, and even if she had, people would only distance themselves from her more. Unlike 'normal' teenage girls, Amy was almost deathly pale, and wore only black with a little red or white. Her hair was dark, black it seemed, until the light revealed a deep shade of purple. Amy would go weeks, sometimes even months, without saying so much as a word to another person. She had mood swings, but they were subtle to the untrained eye. To Amy they were torture. To the doctors however, they were schizophrenia. Although on the outside there was little change, on the inside, in Amy's head, such dramatic motions left little doubt. People who didn't understand Amy, the 'outsiders', her mother used to call them, saw the moods swings only as Amy being reluctant to speak and Amy refusing to speak. Amy herself saw them as 'Amy' and 'Kaitlyn'. Kaitlyn had never spoken aloud before, and she never intended to.
The jury saw no difference between Amy and Kaitlyn, and it was Kaitlyn who was supposed to be pleading innocent on all charges, but she could only stand in her dark silence, Amy wishing she could talk. Kaitlyn had been very strong back then, and Amy was weak and vunerable. She hated Kaitlyn for taking advantage of her. Amy's lawyer, in the end, felt he had no choice but for his client to plead insanity. This didn't seem to surprise the jury, especially after hearing the evidence against her, and as she was taken from the courtroom, Amy finally gained a moment's control, just long enough to scream, "it was Kaitlyn! Kaitlyn did it all! It was her idea!"
Three years on, Amy had undergone treatment, but a strong mind was the only protection against Kaitlyn. After being moved from New York to California, Amy was entered into a school. Just a regular, public school. She had been given a chance at normality.
Somehow, though, word about the trial had spread around the school, and Amy found whispers and stares where she had hoped to find a sign, any sign, of acceptance or welcome. After two months at her new school, Amy found the isolation and discrimination suddenly stronger than ever, as if someone had dug up another part of her past and spread it around the school just like the first. She remembered the day some p***k in her English class told people about the trial.
* * *
Sitting alone at the back of the History class, watching the clock tick, waiting for school to finally end, Amy noticed some people glance over their shoulders at her, whispering frantically. At least, they thought they were whispering. The whole class could hear. "Did Johnny tell you what he read about that new girl?" "About the thing? With the...?" "Yeah,. isn't it scary? Apparently she's mental or something." "Well you'd have to be, I mean, to do s**t like that." "Johnny said she's schizo or something." "You can tell, I reckon. She looks seriously ******** up." And so, the conversations continued, but one day, someone asked Amy about what happened. "So, uh, Amy... Is it true?" "Is what true?" "That you're... You know..." "No, actually. I don't believe I do know. Please enlighten me." "Well, it's just that, some people have been saying some things. I was just wondering if those people were right." "What things were these people saying?" "Just, like, that you... You know... Oh, I don't want to say it. It's too horrible." That was both the first and last conversation Amy had with any of her schoolmates.
* * *
Amy's memories of the night it happened were blurry. Kaitlyn's, however, were still perfectly clear. It was about three and a half years ago now, yet Kaitlyn could remember every detail. Amy was sitting at the kitchen table, it was 1:54am, and she was eating ice-cream. French vanilla. Out of the bowl with the tiny chip on the rim. After finishing her snack, having no idea why she was eating ice-cream at 2am anyway, Amy put her bowl in the dishwasher. She noticed a handle of something sticking out under the rack slightly. She pulled it out and found it was a knife. Amy smiled slightly. Or was it Kaitlyn? Amy hadn't met Kaitlyn back then. But Kaitlyn knew Amy. She had always known Amy, had always sat dormant in her subconsious mind, waiting. For this moment. Wondering why she was smiling, Amy put the knife back into the dishwasher, laying it down as if it were the body of a loved one, cradling the blade slightly. Still vaguely confused, Amy went to bed and was soon asleep. She would never recall the events of the next hour Because she, essentially, was not there. Kaitlyn was.
After Amy was asleep, Kaitlyn woke up, feeling more alive than ever. She knew what to do, and a moment later felt the cold steel once more. "Any will do... This is mere practice..." Kaitlyn told herself, creeping down the hallway. She slowly pushed open the first door she came to and edged inside. A figure lay sprawled on the bed, in deep slumber. Unaware. Kaitlyn stood at the person's head, knife poised over the sleeping form that would never wake. Kaitlyn lay the tip of the knife down and pressed, one hand grabbing a pillow, ready. The person started, and what would have been a piercing scream was stifled just in time. Kaitlyn increased the pressure on the knife, drawing blood. Then the veins. The veins, Kaitlyn would always remember. Blood gushed out onto the bed, dark stains formed on the drenched sheets. Kaitlyn smiled. She felt no more resistance and removed the pillow from her victim's face. A strange gurgling noise rose from the bloody mouth, and Kaitlyn was quick to cover it. After a moment or so, she lifted the pillow back up, but this time there was only silence. Kaitlyn smiled again, a sadistic glint in her eyes. Satisfied, she returned to bed, not bothering to wash, or to return the knife.
The next morning, what Amy woke up to was nothing short of pandemonium. Two of her sisters rushed into her bedroom, bawling, screaming, and leapt on a very tired Amy. The three brothers soon followed, and five of her siblings were in tears before her. She was still under cover of the duvet, and wondering where her third sister was. Maddy was 6, the youngest in the family. Every worst case scenario rushed through Amy's mind, as her family cried, "Why did they have to take her?" It wasn't long until Amy was crying too. She demanded to be left alone, burrowing deep into her covers, her head poking out. She watched her family leave, then buried her face in her pillow.
Even through the stifliing wetness of her tears and the sudden, desperate loss, Amy's mind snuck back to the world of reason, the world of reality. The world of reality, as it turned out, was quite damp. Amy was suddenly alert, wondering why her bed would be so wet. She threw the covers off, and fainted.
As she came to, Amy wondered how long she had been out. Not long enough, it seemed. Now there was more than her blood-covered arms, pyjamas nd sheets. There was a smell, the smell of blood, and it sat like an unpenetrable fog as Amy choked, struggling for fresh air. She fainted once more.
After waking up a second time, Amy didn't see how it had happened. She noticed a handle of something sticking out between her bed and the wall. She pulled it out and found it was a knife. After a little deja vu, Amy threw the knife to the opposite wall. She stood up, dazed, and walked out of her room still covered in blood.
Through even the deepest shock and mourning shines the voice of reason, and the eldest brother, Phil, had called the police to investigate a homicide. They had arrived minutes before Amy emerged from her room. She saw at least two policemen sitting on the couch, talking ot her siblings. All of her siblings. Maddy was there. Amy was convinced it had been Maddy. Who, then? Her grandmother, her mother, her aunt... It was one of them. They all left early in the morning at different times for different activities, so they wouldn't have noticed anything.
Almost subconsiously, Amy wandered into her mother's room. It was then Kaitlyn got her first clear look at her victim.
Amy was more than willing to forget that incident. However, for the people at school, it was a very different story. Whispers and stares followed her wherever she would go. Yet this day, after two months of enduring treatment not unlike a zoo animal, minus the happy children, as she walked down the dimly lit corridor, the whispers and stares seemed somehow more intense than any other day. But this was any other day, as far as Amy knew. Amy knew wrong.
Recently, she had taken to glaring at anyone who so much as glanced in her direction. It had been working, until today. She heard a small, quiet comment behind her back, but it was all she needed. "Did you hear what Johnny said?"
Amy - or as it more likely was, Kaitlyn - decided to finally get even with the person who started all this. She found Johnny, for some reason, taking a leak on a teacher's car. "I hope he's enjoying it," she thought, pulling out a switch blade knife. "Because that mother ******** going to be pissing out of a tube for months."
Yeah, I don't really like it. But hey, I suck XD! Does anyone else here not like it?
karmakaze11 · Mon Jul 18, 2005 @ 05:18pm · 3 Comments |
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