EverGreen Manor

Lemon bleach

'Well I don't know how you do it, Miss Betty!' I chirp, gazing gleefully at the glistening porcelain bathroom. 'It's spotless!', Miss Betty smiles as she packs away her cleaning supplies, 'It's no trouble Miss Quince. No trouble at all.'

Miss Betty is our house cleaner. She's the only person in the whole, entire world who knows about my secret.Besides me, of course. Consequently, this has formed quite a strong bond between us both.
She found out last summer, (the 9th of June to be exact) when she stumbled in on a truly horrifying scene. I can still picture that afternoon so vividly, as if it is engrained in my mind. Miss Betty, clutching onto the bathroom door, her apron caked in her own vomit. Me, kneeling on the stained marble floor, covered in thick crimson blood. Hugo Harry, in the bathtub, blood pooling at the back of his head. She promised not to tell a soul, and I trust her. I truly, wholeheartedly trust her. She's been working for us for over 15 years. So why wouldn't I trust her? We were great friends beforehand, and even closer now. She's trustworthy, Miss Betty. And I need someone to trust.

'Mmmm, still smells like lemon bleach!' I smile, as the overpowering, sour citrus smell burns my nostrils. 'Actually, I must run to the store and pick up some more ready for tonight. How many bottles? 5,6?' Miss Betty quizzed. 'Pick up six just to be on the safe side,'
Tonight was going to be my first kill in over a month. It was driving me crazy, not having had a victim in so long. So, I planned that tonight would be the night. Everything needed to be perfect, so in preparation I had bought;
ten bin bags, five rolls of duck tape, plastic bags, and a metre of rope.
Can you believe all of that came to just $104.97 ?
I need to drop Matilda and Delilah at my parents house at 5, and say I will be attending a cooking class. By eight o'clock I will be pristine, spotless smiley Scarlett, dressed in a lilac sweater and blue jeans, picking up my two angel daughters.
Every minute detail had to be perfect, even things that seemed insignificant. If just one, minuscule detail was slightly wrong, the police can build a case. Then it's Bye-bye Suburban Wisconsin, and Hello high-security prison. For life.
And there was no way I was going to let that happen.
I was still not sure who to pick, however. An innocent store clerk, who I would follow home, seduce, and shoot dead? Or, an unsuspecting pedestrian, who walked a bit too close to the wrong car. Maybe even a clueless hitch-hiker, who I would kidnap, drive to a deserted area and shoot? So many options. I needed to decide, and fast. It was already approaching 1 o'clock. Usually by now, just a mere five hours before the murder, I would've decided who would be the unlucky victim. However I was finding it more than difficult today.
'Mommmyyyy!' Matilda whined.