Hide and Seek

ONZE

A/N: Before you go on to this chapter, I would like to warn you that there is a bit of a heavy undertone about death and murder. I do not condone the actions presented in this chapter (it is fiction after all however, I feel it must still be said) and do not promote the "ideals" that the main character portrays. I respect everyone's beliefs however, I do not personally believe in the principles implied here and it is written just for the sake of portrayal. Happy (or not) reading!

               Iris slowly approached Brooke, walking with only the lightest of footsteps. She grabbed something from the edge of the bed and hid it behind her back. It was all part of her spectacular idea and Iris knew Brooke would be surprised indeed. She sat on the bed, trying to make as little to no noise as possible. Iris leaned into Brooke, getting a whiff of her intoxicating scent, and kissed her passionately on her warm lips. A kiss that would seal their love forever. Feeling that Brooke was about to wake up, Iris started to bring out her gift from behind her. 

               The pillow that was so soft was forcefully smothered on Brooke's face, successfully cutting off her circulation. Brooke let out a muffled scream and was trying to remove the object that was suffocating her but the force that was holding it down was too strong. It took all Iris' might to hold it down, both the pillow and her tears.

              "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love. I'm doing this for you! You have to understand," Iris said, crying hysterically. Her hysterical sobs and countless shouts of apology buried Brooke's own muffled shouts, crying to be set free but Iris simply couldn't. She couldn't let go of the pillow even when Brooke was crying for help. She couldn't let go of the pillow even when Brooke had stopped struggling long ago. She couldn't let go of the pillow, fearing that Brooke was still breathing beneath it. Iris had to make sure that Brooke did not live through it, even though it hurt to think she was gone. 

              Iris knew it was all her fault but she had to do it. What they were doing was a sin and Iris felt dirty; she felt unclean like the dirt-stained her once pristine arms. She was desperately trying to scrub off the grime, the crime she had committed in society's eyes. Iris' sobs did not cease even when the early morning light shone through her windows.