This story is COMPLETELY OWNED BY ME! Please review :)
Blood stained the bottom of my dress, soaking into my shoes. The puddles of blood swarmed the room, showing the death that was here. My eyes were fearful, the disaster reflecting in them.
My family, my sisters, my parents. Gone. Their blood finished pouring out of their body, but it lingered around them, flushing them out. Paleness expressed their faces and arms and legs. My parents and sisters came home early from a party, but I continued to stay there, my friend taking me back home in her carriage. My beautiful home in Georgia, now the hot spot for a local murder.
Father's face was full of determination, his state of shock showing only from his clenched fists. His eyes squinted and his jaw clenched, he was in his stance of protection. I nodded, slowly, understanding. He was the one first killed. His black hair was ruffled, clearly from his fight before his short death. His dark eyes were full of protection and honor. Father was a good man.
Mother's curly red hair matched the blood that kept it wet on her face. Her light green eyes were wide in fear and pain, her mouth slightly opened from shock and horror. How awful, watching Father struggle to keep his family safe and then die right before her eyes. I could hear screams in my ears.
Molly, perfect Molly. My elder sister by two years, nineteen. Molly was engaged to the most wonderful Southern gentleman I have ever known. Sully, that's what they called him, though his name was Albert Sullivan. Molly matched me, petite, but full of life with dark black ringlets and sharp green eyes. My Molly. My elder sister, the person I turned to for everything. Molly's expression wasn't fearful like Mother's, nor determined like Father's. Her face was solemn, confused. Her eyes read Why are you doing this to us? It was so hard to hold back the tears. Molly stood there in a daze, lost in wonderment, while this person murdered her without a second thought. Poor Molly…
My eyes fell lastly on Danielle. Danielle, the youngest of us all, barely thirteen. Her light red hair and dark eyes were full of acknowledgement of what was happening around her. Her eyes tinted with a glare toward this stranger that came here. But she stood her ground, brave and true. Danielle was the everlasting resemblance of Father. She was even slightly taller than all of us, like Father's side of the family. Her face wasn't dark like Father's, but her expression clearly said don't worry, this will all come back at you later on. Danielle, you were only thirteen. How could you be so much older than us all?
Staring into all of their faces showed how much they really did mean to me. But, now their life was gone, ended. How in the world is that possible? Lingering on their ghost-like figures, I fell to my knees in between Mother and Molly, grabbing both of their hands. Blood stained me everywhere, some of it splattering onto the front of my dress, but I didn't care. I would sit in this blood for years just to bring them back. But, I couldn't. All I could do was cry for them.
Before I knew it, a thought opened in my mind. Sully. I could find Sully and he could help me. I stood up, slowly, full of pain aching in my body. My face never tore away from my family, the essence of my life that has perished. My family that protected me, made me life, shared experiences and memories with. Now, I stared into their faces, their deaths taking down my life with them. I had no one outside of my family. My family was certainly my life. I felt myself crumbling into millions of pieces.
A creak came from the stairs, the staircase I could only see the last three steps. The creak sounded much higher than that. I have been in this house my whole life, nothing creaked on its own. This house creaked when someone stepped on one of the special spots that did make a loud sound. I gaped up at the wall where the staircase lied on the other side, my mouth open just a hint. My tear filled eyes gazed at it, knowing that this mysterious murderer was still in my house. I wanted to confront him, torture him, maybe even kill him.
But, I knew I couldn't punish him. At least not in a murderous way. I had a better way of punishing him, torturing him. Let him get caught and known for what he did. That would be the worst punishment.
I scurried out the front door, holding up my skirts as I pushed into the darkened streets, full of lamplight that barely lit up in front of you. I ran, the tears still flying off my cheeks behind me, desperately looking for Sully's house. I memorized where he lived, but at this moment, I couldn't remember anything. I figured the murderer knew what I was doing, so he left. It was the only thing that made sense in my head thus far.
Somehow, my feet remembered the way to Sully's house. I turned another endless corner and suddenly, his house stood before me. I came to an abrupt stop, letting my skirts fall back to my ankles, only staring. Was this really happening? What should I say? How should I say it? How could I possibly tell him that Molly, his fiancé, was dead? I inhaled deeply, deciding to continue on with his help. My stomach churned and screamed to turn back, but I couldn't stop now. I had to help my family pass on, knowing that their murder has come to a rest.
I lightly knocked on his door, waiting for what felt like forever for him to open. The memories of seeing Molly covered in her own blood flooded my mind, bringing the tears back into my eyes.
"Cecily?" Sully's husky voice surprised me. "Is everything all right?"
I opened my mouth to answer no, my family is dead, but only escaped from my mouth. I discovered my voice would not allow me to speak, not yet at least.
I only shook my head.
"Would you like to come in?" His voice guided me with courage, filling me with a brotherly feeling that I have never felt before.
"Molly," I choked out, the first thing to fall out.
Sully froze, his back stiffening, his whole structure turning into stone, whilst his eyes went grave. "What's wrong with Molly?"
"Everyone…everyone," I started, but the words were tumbling out differently than my brain thought. "I got there and they…they were like that."
Sully cocked a fearful eyebrow. "Like what, Cecily?"
"Dead." I breathed it out like air.
Sully's face quickly changed to the color gray and I watched him crumble before me. He stood his ground, but how could I tell? The way his lips quivered with sorrow and worry, while his eyes disappeared from any sign of light. I could feel the word knocking the life right out of him.
"Dead? Your parents? Danielle? Molly? All dead?" Sully almost choked on his own breath.
All I could do was nod. What else would I say? I didn't want to tell him that the murderer was still at my home when I arrived, but most likely gone. I wanted him to go straight to the peace force, collecting all the Peace Officers he could. If I told him that I could hear the murderer, he would have stormed off to home, in the opposite direction.
"You go back home and find any clues you can, see if you know who the killer was. I'm going to get the officers," Sully stated, the determination returning into his eyes. I could almost hear his thoughts. I have to be strong for now. I can cower later on.
Sully gave me one last squeeze of the hand, telling me that all would be okay. But, would it? I had nothing left. Yes, I had my father's inheritance, but I had no parents. I had no one to find eligible men for me. I had no sisters to talk to when I was lonely. I had no Father to pick me up and swing me around on my birthday. I did have Sully, but he wasn't family. He was close to becoming one, pretty much a brother to me, but it just didn't feel right. Not without Molly. As I headed back toward my home, my heart was becoming weary. I felt myself dying, rapidly, but slowly at the same time. I felt like the walking dead, wandering around because I wanted life.
Turning the knob of my front door was the horror. This door that once held in so many cherished memories now held the gate to the world of my dead family. I was afraid to enter, I was afraid to breath. But, I made it. I forced myself to push the door open and lay my eyes upon my dead family. Father was slumped to the ground, lying on his stomach with his arms sprawled alongside him. Mother was on the floor next to him, close to the couch. Molly was lying on the couch, her head limply hanging off the edge. I closed her eyes, hoping not to look into them. Danielle was falling over from her slumped position against the couch. I didn't know whether they were killed with a knife or gun, but honestly, I didn't want to take a glance.
I stood in front of the couch, staring intently at Molly and Danielle, taking everything. This picture was terrible, the most horrid thing in my existence. Who would want to kill my family? I don't remember Father having any enemies.
Little did I know that footsteps were right behind me, silently coming up at me. Now that I look back on it, I didn't know the killer was behind me, but somehow, I could feel his presence. Was it a he? I don't know, at least, not now.
Hands slid around my neck, squeezing tightly. In surprise, I tensed up, bringing my hands up to pull the hands off. Soon enough, I knew I couldn't stop it. Instead, I loosened my body and let myself drift away. Why did I do this? I knew I was dying anyway. I didn't let him kill me, I died and let myself go clearly before he killed my body.
I awoke with the murderer gone, the door swinging open from the wind. I was lying on the stairs, a crick beginning to rise in my neck. Pain, dreadful pain. I made my way onto my feet, waltzing into the room that I found my family dead. I was praying that it was only a nightmare.
But no, my family was still in their right places, covered by newly released blood. But now I noticed another person in the party. Did I kill my family's murderer? I didn't think it was possible. I edged toward this body that was thrown to the floor with marks and gashes along its neck. The hair was long and wavy, darkly black, just like Mother's. Her eyes were a dark, pure green, sharp and pretty. As I continued to gaze at her, I fell to my knees, holding back the screams.
The body was me.
I'm dead? Where is the rest of my family then? Why was I so alone?
I caught movement coming into the door. I cautiously kept my sight on them, knowing that they couldn't see me. My glare was strong until I realized whom it was. Sully and three peace officers, just like he promised. I forgot that I was dead, since I ran toward Sully, so glad to see him here. He never once heard me or beamed at me. The terror and sadness in his face got to him.
He caught Molly first. He fell to the floor, grabbing her hand, kissing her all over. Blood smeared all over him, but he didn't care. He stayed there, holding onto her, crying in pain, screaming, balling. Molly was the most wonderful thing to him, and now she was gone so easily.
The officers caught his attention and finally pulled him away. Then, did he notice that I hadn't come running toward him. His eyes flickered around, calling my name. I tried to call back, but he didn't hear me. His voice, his wanting sounded as if he was on the other side of a tunnel. I was losing him, everything.
An officer pointed toward my body, asking him if Sully knew whom the body was. Sully was close to collapsing, seeing that it was me. His hand came to his mouth, forcing the tears back. I knew what he was thinking. He sent me back home to look around, and I was killed. I couldn't help it. Neither of us knew that the killer was hanging around.
Not wanting to see anymore, I tore up the stairs. I could hear my name being called. Cecilia, Cecilia, Cecilia. I didn't know who it was, but I could hear it. I ran to the end of the hall, stopping to stare at the portrait of my family. I knew I was dead, and I was alone.