Chapter Two

I woke up late the next morning, which was no surprise to me of course. I had stayed up late into the evenings for the past week or so plotting and scheming in my bed. Ever since I had learned from Mr. Trenton at dinner ten or so nights ago that Santa was released from the pits of doom I had been enraged and vengeful.

He could not get away with a normal life after what he had done to Mama after all. He was not going to get away with his devilry that easily and that was my immediate thought as soon as I had heard those words “Big White Beard and Red Suit is back in town”. It had been supposed to be a joke to kind of lighten the tension that would immediately come after the remark. But it made me feel worse. Mr. Trenton was a great person and I considered him the dad that I should have had instead of that damned murdering freak I was stuck with instead.

I looked around my small room with half open eyelids and wondered where I was. And then of course I remembered. It was not some crazy little scam that someone was trying to play on her as she had expected at first glance around her old room. Nope, it was all her doing. She had organized all of this and when she went into Santa’s den she would find a dead Santa. He would be dead as a doornail. He would be as dead as my mother. But then again come to think of it she was probably in a much better place

I toyed with the necklace’s chain that was around my neck and felt the little butterfly at the end. The only thing I have left of my mother thanks to Dead Santa. I felt the cold chills of the Summer morning race through my body quickly change to heat bursting expectance and temptation. Okay that was definitely a thought that ought to be forgotten.

I slid off my small excuse for a bed and put on the purple fluffy slippers that I had kept with me since that horrible night before Christmas. Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Hmm? She had never fancied those stories even whilst Mama had been alive. She was confused at her own thoughts as she had often found herself being over the past few years.

Unnecessarily I tiptoed into the den. Santa’s den was silent except for the sound of the ongoing television. I walked over to it and turned it off, not so sure I really wanted to hear the news yet. Knowing Nikki she probably told Tim all about me leaving and Mr. and Mrs. Trenton were probably worried sick.

I glanced over at the bottles that were lying pell-mell on the rouge carpet before Santa’s feet. I grimaced and picked them all up. They were all empty. The carpet was soaking wet beneath my slipper-clad feet and when my hands grazed the carpeting I could feel the wetness on my hands. Going to the recycle bin I dumped the bottles into the bucket and dumped that outside not knowing or caring when the trash came to pick it up.

Going back into the house I went towards the kitchen passing by all the many treasured things I had been forced to leave behind. The ancient coo-coo clock still stood straight and tall and all the little Christmas ornaments still sat posed in their positions on the wall-shelves. Making a beeline for the fridge I popped it open and made some eggs with what remained. I found that they tasted gross after making them but I didn’t really7 care.

What irked me was the decision I had to make. I could no longer return to my other home at Nikki’s because then a few things might click not that I would EVER be suspected because Tim knows me and all and is certain I would never do anything so grimy or pain inflicting.

I could go on killing, a voice inside my head suggested. Wait, go on killing? Why? What did that accomplish?

You could kill all those horrid people who lived to kill anyway, the voice said again. You know the ones you hear them at dinner discussions between Tim and Mr. Trenton. All those wrongdoers that you could stop from doing the things that people have been forever provoking them to do.

Why would I ever do that though? I care about my life enough to want to start over at least! Maybe I can try and find a job in another state and forget about Nikki and Tim and…Don.

Alright I have a weakness. Doesn’t every murderer or murderess have one? I mean come on! Its what provokes them and motivates them to kill! Okay well in some senses it does. And it just so HAPPENS that my motivator or provoker is a high school boy who I just ditched so I could avenge my mother.

I am a genius you know, it shows every once and a while. I have those moments where I just do one of those SPECTACULAR or INCREDIBLE stunts that no one in their right mind would ever think up. Which brings us all to another obvious fact and that is that I’m not in my right mind.

I thought of my dead father upstairs in his den then. What had possessed me to kill my own father? Well the revenge that had bubbled up ever since December seven years ago might just push a few red buttons.

I groaned inwardly feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders just then. How was I ever going to survive now? What honestly made all those serial killers and homicidal losers want to do this fatal act so desperately?

Fatal acts, that brought on another side to the situation, another idea. You could commit suicide. After all Snazzy had often expressed that suicide was the way to solving everything in your life. Except that what Snazzy had forgotten to mention was that suicide only solved all the problems in your life because you had no life anymore, and that’s not exactly what I want.

But what is there to do with your life now? The voice inside my head (does it ever shut up?) whispered snidely enjoying their cynical twists and turns in this dire situation at hand. Big White Beard and Red Suit is dead remember? He went bye-bye last night, no thanks to you.

“SHUT UP!” I yelled throwing my hands down on the table and pounding my unbelievably small fists against the table’s surface. I think that was the first sine of insanity right there, I really do. It really is not often that people yell shut up aloud to their own head. Is Kitty loosing her mind? You could say yes and you could say no. But I, Kitty Colliman, say yes all the way.

I pushed back from the table and went up the stairs slowly, dragging my feet as I went. I opened the door to my room slowly and decided that I would sit quietly for a while and wait and see what became of my so far miserable new life. Feeling a little nauseated and irked I picked up the Babysitter’s Club book I had actually liked ten years ago and turned to page one.

Reading was always a remedy for madness.

A.N: To kill or not to kill? That is the question. POor Kitty! she killed her da...thats harsh but she dont feel to guilty. oOoOo and hint hint hint note the part where she notices that the floor is wet...thats a clue to this lovaly story that i have ingeniously created ladies and gents. Ah well no more hints for you suckers! IF you want to know the secrets behind Kitty Colliman's life that she doesnt even realize are important then keep reading and review to encourage :)

Da Vinci At Work: thank you for being my first and only reviewer. you are truly kind and have put me in a happy place :)