Four Best Friends 2: A New Perspective

Bloodied Hearts pt. 2

She will never know... Maybe one day I'll tell her, one day...

[10:00 pm - Kristopher]

I knew our parents were scaring her and personally I cannot let that happen. She means way too much to me, and if hate to see her upset. I'd do anything, anything, to make her happy. If that means standing up to the devils that my parents are, so be it.

All she sees about our parents are them fighting. If it’s not that then they’re taking her out for ice cream or something. I hate how they try to make it seem like everything’s normal when it’s not. 

My room is a bit down the hall from hers. I told her I was going to check on mom and dad, which is true, but I have to do something important first. Something that needs to be done now.

After stepping out of her doorway I grabbed the bronze colored knob and lightly closed the door. I didn’t want her to see where I was going, that would lead to trouble.

Taking a left instead of a right, I wandered down the hall until I stopped in front of a familiar door.  I got it painted red to fit my standards. I asked the same for Beatrice but my parents just ket telling me until she’s older. Which basically means never in their language… 

I pushed the thing open quickly, only looking for what I need. My room’s messier compared to what a regular one might look like, but it’s an organized mess okay? Got that? I know where everything is, hidden money stashes, razors, hey… I got you covered.

My most prized possession though was my exuberant red guitar. I always laid it up against the mirror in my closet, hoping that nobody will go in there. Beatrice seems to take a liking to it though, so I’ll probably leave it for her.

My bed’s straight ahead with a dresser to the right. The dresser holds all kinds of pens, paper, and pencils, just miscellaneous things. Those things though, were my target for the night. I would need them for what I was about to do.

I stepped over the pile of clothes that littered the ground to get to my shelf. Things were strewn across it making it look unorganized. Remember… It’s not.

I located a pen and a stick note. Hopefully this will be enough to write on. The color of the stick note was purple, her favorite color, so hopefully it will catch her eye. I can’t take the chance of her missing this one. It’s way too important.

I quickly scribbled something down, not even caring if I have bad handwriting. Mine’s probably worse than you’ve ever seen. I loved feeling the sticky side for some reason. It felt like what I would imagine a sea star sticking against my fingers. Like suction cups I guess.

My parents were still fighting, heard from the yelling downstairs. It seems like the never stop, it’s like all they do these days. They were so happy once Beatrice I mean Bonnie, for some reason she likes being called that, was born. I swear they like her so much better than they like me.

Now I just have to put this thing in a place that she’ll see it. Where could that be though… 

Ah what the heck, I’ll just put it on her door. Hopefully she’ll notice it. I stepped back over the pile of clothes and closed my door. I wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

The hallway was dark, but I knew this house by heart. I’ve lived in it ever since I was born anyway. I could feel my feet hitting the ground, making the floor rumble more then it should. My heart beat in my chest significantly, drowning out any other sound. I couldn’t even hear the yelling anymore. I guess I was more scared than I thought, all for good reason though. 

The door made no sound as I quickly placed the stick note on it. Just something blending in with the dull brown color of the door. Something only my sister will see.

What I was doing was for the best. I can rest assure that my dear sister is safe. No one will ever hurt her again. She can live a free life without any problems.

I placed my rough hand out in front of my face and sighed. The warmth of my breath curled around my fingers then moved into the air. I just had to reassure myself.

Taking a couple steps toward the stairs my heart started to beat faster. I might die from a heart attack before I’m done here. I laid my hand on the smooth railing that led downstairs. This would be the thing that took me to my doom.

“Kris!” My father yelled. Well I guess they saw me which isn’t exactly a good thing. I wasn’t planning to do this whole thing in the shadows though. I would definitely need their help for this.

“Yea?” I responded, trying to sound brave. The truth is that I’m so scared I could probably pee my pants. I’m going to pretend I didn’t think that…

I finished the rest of the way down the stairs, coming to a stop at the beige colored carpet. It’s the only thing we could afford in these rough times.

My dad, hands balled into fist, had brown hair that was cut short in a manly sort of way. Or so he thinks anyway. He wore a Patriots jersey, Troy Brown for those who want to know, and blue jeans that were really wrinkled. He seriously needs to iron his clothes.

My mom, on the other hand, had black hair that was white at the tip. She contemplated dying it brown to fit all of ours, but she ended up not doing it. I saw her purse laying on the chair, looking really sad. Maybe Bea-Bonnie could use it. She, for some weird reason, was still in her work clothes. A black jacket and pants with a red tie that actually blended in well. She looked really nice compared to my dad.

“Can you please prove to that witch of a woman that she’s wrong?” Dad spat out. I didn’t back away, I’m surprisingly used to this now.

My mind swiped through the answers I could possibly say. None of them sounded relatively safe, my dad’s usually wrong about a lot of things.

“About what?” I decide to say, taking a safe route. At least it might get him to stop yelling for awhile. 

“How Beatrice is my daughter and not her’s!” Something about what he said just ticked me off. I mean I already had this planned, but something pushed me forward. If it was my own instinct, I would never find out.

A single candle was lit on the table. It wasn’t a big table, enough to feed four people and the candle wasn’t anything special. One little thing can do a lot of damage though.

Before I could respond I sprinted over to the table. I looked back at my parents, or whatever you call them, and all they did was stare back at me. 

“This is for you Bonnie…” Was the last thing I would say in this world. Before I move on to the next that is.

On impulse I knocked the candle over, the flame catching the wood instantly. Blue flames started to spread across the table and my parents screamed. Of course they would try to put the fire out but I could never let the do that. I needed to keep Bonnie safe.

I know where all the knives are in this house. I only needed one to stop my parents. Only one…

The kitchen was to my right, where most of the knives are held. The ones in the drawer aren’t sharp, but we have a knife holder where the butcher knifes are held. Don’t ask why.

The blue mixed with the orange and red of the flames. Making something that can only be described as beautiful. A beautiful fire, set by my beautiful self. Meant for beautiful Bonnie, and to kill my beautiful parents. Perfect…

I soon found a sharp knife in my hands. I don’t know how it got there, but I sure needed it. The sharp part dragged across the palm of my hand, creating a straight line of blood. This really looks like a demented ritual then anything else.

My back was starting to heat up, the flames spreading across the room. I knew Bonnie would be safe though, she knows how to get out of the house not using the front door.

Some people may say I’m crazy, but I just saved my sister’s life…