Her Secrets

15

Entering my house which was quite big enough to be called a mansion, my eyes scanned around the place, looking for the familiar girl I call my sister. Clarissa and I surprisingly got along really well. She was two years older than me and a nice woman.

We shared the same mother, not the same father. Clarissa was, in no way, related to Alessio. Sure, he knew of her miserable existence and he knew that she was the only girl I actually tolerated. Nonetheless, he didn't like her and he made that pretty clear a lot of times.

Clarissa was everything like my deceased mother; short, a redhead, tanned skin. and was above all—pathetic. She was the perfect mixture of my mom and step father. My step father's name was Gerard or something like that and he was a total dick.

Gerard was careless, he never cared about me or my mom— or Clarissa in that matter. He always treated me worst, probably because he knew I was not his offspring. But that didn't matter, I didn't care about that. What I cared about was the fact that he would use my mother to satisfy his needs and throw her aside once he was done. He had other women, yes, plural, in his life. My mother was never enough.

Now, my mom wasn't all innocent either. She was not someone I'd die for whatsoever. But I was grateful to her because she gave birth to me. That was the only reason I kept her alive. But unfortunately, one day, a few years after my step father died, she made me lost it and I just couldn't hold it. I had to kill her. I couldn't not do it. It was a need at that time. However, I do not regret it.

I was seventeen when I did it. Alessio helped me cover my tracks. My twelve year old self forgave her when she brought those random strange men who she called her friends home who ruined my life. When she found out about what her so called friends did, she simply threw them out of her life, not even bothering to call the cops or shit. And I never said anything to her about that.

But then five years after that, she had the audacity to bring these men back again and I found out that she had been screwing them all behind closed doors. I was enraged. And I had to kill her. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

Clarissa thought our mother dearest died in a car accident. But actually it was me who killed her after torturing her for hours. Then I randomly dropped her body on the road before driving over her. It was a sight to say the least. What an adventure.

Psychotic? Who? Me? You've got the wrong person. I can assure you that I'm anything but a psycho.

"Hello? Clarissa?" I called out as I made my way further into my house, "you home?"

"In my room!" She shouted from upstairs making me head there. Opening the door to her room, I stepped in to find her lying on her bed with her phone in her hands. She shot me a questioning look, "yes?"

"I was wondering about your business party," I started, closing the door before leaning on it, "where are you holding it?"

"In this house," she sat up straight, narrowing her eyes at me, "why?"

"When?"

"In a month or so," she shrugged, "I'm not sure. I need to check my schedule. Why?"

"Curious," I muttered, "how many people will you invite?"

"All my business partners as well as some renowned businessmen to acquire new partners," she responded, throwing her body on her bed again, "you know how it works, honey. You'll be there though, right? I'm going to need support!"

"Of course," I pursed my lips in a thin line, "I'll always be there for you—that is, as long as you don't fuck everything up and behave lik—" she cut me off, holding her palm in front of me, "—mom. I know, I know. Oh and the theme is black! Don't forget that."