It was a warm summer day at the Wilkinson's home, where I volunteered at, in the summer. I went into the house after being dropped off by the taxi. I walked in and Jacob, the oldest child, was waiting for me on the stairs. He has always enjoyed helping me around the house dispite his mental illness. He was very tall, skinny, and tan. He had brown eyes and dark hair like his father. He looked at me and smiled. "Mom needs tea." I nodded. "Okay Jacob let me just hang up my coat and purse and you can help."
The kitchen has always been huge and nice. Marble counter tops, and stainless steel equipment. I've always loved to cook in that kitchen. I began to boil the water for her tea. "Jacob sweetheart can you get me a coffee cup?" He turned and began to look for a cup. "The cabinet above the sink." He grabbed out the hot pink one. "Mom likes pink, this will make her happy." He smiled and set it down on the counter. I poured the water into the coffee cup and let Jacob pour in the creamer. He poured alot in so I had to take it off of him. As I went to put it away, Jacob grabbed the sugar, and dumped about 1/4 of the bag into it. "No Jacob!" I yelled. "Thats too much sweety." He got upset and went upstairs. I'll have to explain that I wasn't mad at him later. I grabbed the tea bag plopped it in the cup followed by a quick stir, and started my journey up the stairs.
I walked through the hall and I had the feeling that someone was watching me. I quickened my pace as walked down the long hall that seemed to stretch on forever. I walked past the bathroom and I heard a loud pitched squeal. I peered into the bathroom and it was Michael, the youngest of the children. His back was facing the bathroom entrance, and his hands were in the bath tub. I set the cup down in the hallway, and walked into the bathroom. I walked quietly because I wanted to see what he was doing. I crept up behind him and looked over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?!" He had his pet rabbit taped down in the tub and he was using one of the kitchen knives to cut open the poor creature while it was still alive. I pulled Michael away from the tub, and looked him in his dark brown eyes. He had black hair, like his father, and he was short and tan. There was no emotion in his eyes. No remorse. I looked down at his hands they were covered in blood. "What is wrong with you?" I whispered. " I was exprimenting." He said with a smirk. "Killing isn't exprimenting, it's tourture!" I said with pity in my eyes. "Well why are you taking care of mommy? She's miserable. Why let her suffer?" I looked away. Damn he had a good point. "You can't kill it's wrong. Things must happen naturally. Don't do this anymore. Okay Michael?" "Yes ma'am." He replied faking sadness. "Okay. Now go play with non-living things. Like your toys." I said smiling and patting him on the back. He nodded and walked out of the bathroom. I walked over to the tub, and looked at the poor creature. He was squirming with pain, there was blood everywhere. "Why would he do this?" I whispered to myself. I shook my head and took the knife and put him out of his misery. I put him in a bag and carried him out of his tourture chamber.
I walked down the hall with the tea in one hand and the corpse in another. I got to the end of the hall where Mrs. Wilkinson's room was. I knocked on the door quietly. A raspy cough meant come in. I slowly opened the door. It was dark, there were only candles lit. "Ma'am..Here's your tea. Sorry I'm late, I had to clean up some.......things." She coughed then raspily replied "I heard.... Your conversation. That is." She chuckled. "Awwwe my boy, he was always something." I chuckled. Yeah some thing crazy, I thought. I walked over to her bed and sat on the edge of it. She was deathly ill with terminal brain cancer. Her name was Malissa Wilkinson she was a sweet woman. She was in her late 40's, she was very thin and pale. With short dark brown hair. She sat up against her head board as I offerd her cup of tea. "Thank you." She whispered. I noddded. "So why is he like that?" "Like what?" She replied blowing on her tea. "So emotionless." "He just has always been that way." I looked away, then scooted closer. I whispered, in a hushed yelling tone "He was tourturing his pet rabbit...." I paused, letting my words sink in. "Why would he do that?" She shook her head. " I don't know my dear, I just don't know."
We spoke for sometime then I left for I had to do some chores for her around the house. I walked through the halls and stopping when I heard Emily playing with her dolls. "Hi Emily how are you?" She smiled while brushing her barbie's hair. " I'm fine Christine how are you?" "I'm good." I replied. She was always so sweet. She was the middle child, short with blonde hair, glasses, and bright blue eyes. Yet she did not inherit the tan skin everyone else in her family had for obvious reasons. " So what are you doing?" She said batting her big blue eyes. "Nothing just walking around the house, I might go work on the garden." There was a small silence as if she were pondering what to say next. "Oh, ok. Have fun." Emily's smile faded, then she quickly turned back to her dolls. "Emily, are you ok? Is there something you want to tell me?" I said kneeling down to her level. She continued to look at her dolls. "No ma'am I'm fine." "Emily." I said with a concerned tone. She kept her head down. I began to reach for her doll to catch her attention, she pulled away quickly and screamed "No! I don't have to tell you anything!" She glared at me. I stared at her astonished. As I was looking at her I noticed a reflection in her glasses. It was a person. Not a person. It was Michael. I spun around quickly and looked at him. He ran down the hall. "What is he up to Emily? Please tell me." I said with pleading eyes. "I can't tell you" She started to cry. I looked at her in disbelief. I got up and walked out of the room. If she won't tell me I was going to have to find out myself.
