Rotten

Prologue

Wake up. Get dressed. Look into the mirror. Eat breakfast. Go to school. Go home. Have lunch. Get on the computer. Eat dinner. Sleep. Repeat.

Routine, always the same.

At least it was like that in Annabelle's mind.

It was up to that night, that her life was the same. Being made of at school for being overweight, just a bit, having her parents fight all the time over the stupidest things, gone. But not in the way she would have wanted to. She'd always wanted to end it, to just run away, maybe just find peace and leave it all behind.

Maybe she'd even thought once or twice about all of them suffering like her.

Maybe she even enjoyed it.

But she'd never imagined, they'd become rotten. Inside and out.

Now that they were undead, it would be only logical for her to change her mind about their fate. But, deep in her head, she had always thought they deserved the suffering and pain of their bodies being animated for eternity. Their bones crushing together, their flesh rotting on their arms and legs.

And there was no way to put them to rest, they always came back and back, their devilish bodies reviving like demons after they took a bullet.

She thought about this often. About life. About how she would ended up committing suicide if not for this breakout.

In some way, it wasn't that all bad.

She felt the knife in her hand as she slowly caressed the wooden hilt. She had found it in her father's room when she searched the house for the first time. Annabelle saw it just sitting there, hidden in a compartment beneath a drawer next to his bed. She knew what it meant, maybe she had always was...

She heard the soft tunes of a music box coming from her room and smiled.

Annabelle looked at the blade as it shone underneath the arid sun that leaked from the window. The soft chords of the music calmed her, sweet notes of the piano echoing inside her. It brought her nostalgia, the distant feeling of someone touching her face, slowly. She looked at the door in front of her, a small smile creeping on her lips.

As the music came to a sudden stop, she giggled.

It had been nice to hide herself for a while, but now she did not need to run away anymore. Annabelle knew that it would not affect her in the least to let go of the sanity, the small amount she had left. She slipped the knife in a hole in her dress, and it fit perfectly against her skin. Annabelle wanted to rewind the music again, to feel the familiar vibrations in her spine.

They tickled. She giggled again.

Her hand slid onto the wooden handle of her knife. It felt good not to worry about school anymore, nor about people. Finally, she could be free, free of the daily pain. The pain that teared her heart apart, that made her feel empty and filled with sadness. Tears that knotted in her throat, forcing their way to her eyes.

They made her angry.

Nobody made her angry.

She giggled again. As she twirled her fingers against the handle, her smile became only a curve in her face, frozen. It did not extend into her dark eyes that rippled like a stone in water. It was a curve of white teeth that just stood there, frozen, on her pale lips. It was empty, with no emotion. Just a movement of lips. Her eyes remained an empty void.

Annabelle walked up to the door, that large smile just plastered on her face like a stamp. She placed her hand on the golden handle and giggled again. A soft, cold sound.

As she opened the door, there was a creak of unoiled hinges. It broke the silence that was around her in the small house. It was old, with spiderwebs and dust covering most of it. Always filled with yelling and fighting, because of her parents. Only she screamed silence.

But now it was quiet.

She wasn't crazy. She wasn't crazy.

It was the phrase she repeated in her head, night after night, whispering to herself. Caged in her own world of lies and pain, it was the only thing she held on onto.

She wasn't...

...Crazy....

So maybe she was.

Annabelle knew she couldn't hide the voices in her head any longer.

She was just as she was born. Her black eye flashed a bit, but the red one shimmered a bit more. She was... different. Did it mean bad? Even she didn't know.

As the cold air came rushing in, it blew her short black hair back. The ruffles of her dark red dress moved as softly as her silky hair. It fell down to her knees, covering her white legs. The black socks with red stripes covered the rest of them. Her soft feet were smuggled in a pair of black slippers that she had worn for as long as she could remember.

She kept... smiling.

Annabelle realized, as she stepped softly into the unknown and watched with her cold eyes the undead bodies in motion, their dead eyes no longer existing because they had rot into their skulls, that she was finally free.

Not only free from her physical pain.

Not only from the emotional pain.

Annabelle was free.

She could finally do what she came here to do.

Kill.

She did not even flinch as the blood on the house walls began to drip on the grey floor. Annabelle walked out the door, not even saying goodbye to her parents.

As they laid dead, lifeless in a puddle of their own dried blood.

Annabelle giggled again.

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Gah I suck at horror:p Or whatever the heck this story is x) please comment what you thought. I felt like I had to leave the romance genre a bit and venture into unknown lands. Okay you guys tell me if I sucked or I rocked. It's your call if I continue this story:).

Thank youuu for reading<3