Splintered Heart (Love and Other Lies)

1 | Dani

There's someone in the house.

Adrenaline surges through me as I peak around the corner of the wall, creeping down the stairs on silent feet, trying to listen for any noise, for any indication where they are.

A thump echoes above me and I whip my head up, eyes wide.

They're upstairs.

I make my way to the stairs, knowing the layout of the house like the back of my hand, each corner on the wall, every doorway, where the furniture lies. The marks on the wall where we used to record our height.

My fingers run over the slight indents from the shoddy paint job trying to cover up the childhoods lived here.

I take the stairs one silent step at a time, palm running along the smooth banister, eyes on the door above me, the one that I know Savannah had made her own since her parents passing.

Music begins from the room, a slight humming beginning to accompany it and I will myself not to hum along to the familiar song, to keep silent.

I enter the room, glancing around the new furniture but it's all known to me, all I've been studying the last few weeks.

There was not one speck of this place that I hadn't looked over with a fine tooth comb. Every new piece of furniture, how many coats of paint had been applied to each wall. If it had been recorded, I knew of it.

Savannah had a routine after her shift at the diner on Wednesdays. Every night she would return home, cook herself a pasta dish and with a glass of wine in hand, she would take it upstairs, play her favourite song and soak in the tub.

She'd been doing the same since we were teenagers, minus the wine of course.

You would've thought that I'd be sick of the song, having heard nearly weekly from the age of thirteen. But I hadn't, in fact it had played in my dream numerous times as I'd imagined this scenario, perfected it.

I slip into her room, eyes slipping from one corner to the next to make sure that everything is where it should be.

It is.

I place my bag down carefully, sure to not make any noise or disrupt anything.

The bathroom door is ajar, Savannahs soft voice accompanying the notes of the song, hitting every low hum and high tune.

It was a skill of hers. Of course, if the girl had only had loyalty as one of her skill sets then I wouldn't be here.

But alas, she did not.

I push into the bathroom, walking in silently and clutching the kitchen knife tighter in my hand and then I creep closer.

It takes less than ten seconds for one hand to grasp her beautiful blonde locks in my hand and pull her head back, another five to position the knife and five more to slice it across her neck.

She doesn't have the time to scream fully before it's cut off.

I let go of her hair, watching her sink further into the tub with no strength to keep her upright.

Her gurgles are buried beneath the tunes of the song and I walk towards the player, turning it up just that slightest bit more and then I turn to my former best friend, finding those brown eyes of her on me, wide and fearful.