OK. Before you start, you need to know the Lizzie Borden story. I've always assumed that everybody knows that story, but it seems like a shocking number of people... don't. So just in case you don't, here's the gist:

"Lizzie Borden took an ax; Gave her father 40 whacks; When she saw what she had done; She gave her mother 41!"

It's a true story, but it was never proven if she was guilty or not, and she didn't actually give them 40/41 "whacks"... it was more like 20 or 16 or some obscure number... just go wikipedia it if you're bored enough, it's actually a really interesting story.

(Cough) Anyways.

Disclaimer- don't own the "He had it comin'" song from Chicago. :)

---

Oh Irony!

It was going to rain any minute now. The clouds had been circling in all day, and turning darker and darker. The temperature had dropped to somewhere in the 60’s, compared to the near heat wave they had gone through the week previous. The wind was ruffling the leaves of the trees in the park and the grass looked like it was dancing, but it was too quiet; it was unsettled.

“He had it comin’… he had it comin’…”

She could hear a siren in the distance, but she didn’t flinch. She didn’t even blink. She just pretended that it wasn’t there.

“He only had himself… to blame…”

Because this was a big city- there were lots of accidents. Wherever that ambulance was going wouldn’t necessarily find a forty-year-old man lying dead on the yellow and red-splattered kitchen floor with a several large, bloody gashes in his throat and his pale grey eyes wide open, a liquor bottle shattered in hundreds of little pieces several feet away from him, but the weapon that had killed him nowhere to be found.

“If you’d ‘a been there…”

She had always been impulsive, but she had never been stupid.

“If you’d ‘a seen it…”

The roll of thunder stirred her, and she looked upwards and smiled wryly. Rain had always meant things being washed away, and the rain would wash away the scent of blood and fire that she still had on her, even though she had changed her clothes (and burned the old ones).

“I betcha you would have done the same…” She sighed in slight discontent.

She could never go back. She would never see any of her friends again. She would never play truth or dare with Zoë or Riley or Eva again, or have a ‘battle of wits’ with Milo, or be able to make fun of Patrick, or play video games with Shea….

Her smile dropped and she gripped hard onto the small, bloodstained dagger that she still had in her hand. She stuck the blade in the ground and pulled it back out, wiping it off on the grass. She looked back out on the horizon and saw lightning flash in the clouds.

So what could she do now? She could own up to what she had done, and tell the truth once they found the body. But that wouldn’t be awkward at all. They would make her go into therapy, and that was the last thing she wanted. She wasn’t crazy; just very impulsive.

She sighed and stared hard at her dagger again and said to the girl that it reflected back, “Well, Lizzie Borden, you’ve really done it now.”

END

---

So it's a modern-day Lizzie Borden. 'Cept she didn't kill her mom. :)