RoseBlood

Thoughts

"So, you had to stay away from your house? For so long?"

I shrug and nod, the teacup clutched tightly in Hayley's hands like a source of stability as she stares at me in shock.

"Yep. It was good for me, I suppose. I could think clearer."

She glances around the room uneasily before turning back to me. "It must be so odd being back here. Still, I'm sure you're mature enough not to believe in ghosts and everything."

I scoff. "Of course. And I don't know. I might stay here. Might not. It'll be hard to sell if people have been murdered here, though, won't it?"

She shivers, fidgeting in her seat and taking a sip of tea. "Mm. It must be horrible for you. Do you think the killer's still out there?"

I raise my brows, having some of my drink and staring and my watery brown reflection in the cup. "Somewhere."

"It must be a shock, though," Hayley says, "having to dig deep into the case to find out about love affairs and secrets. Did you have any idea before?"

I shake my head. "I didn't, no."

"But your parents were so nice," she exclaims, "they were always kind to me, and I've never had a problem coming around to keep you company every now and then. It's such a shame. I'm sorry I missed the funeral. If I'd have known..."

"Don't worry about it," I say with a slight smile.

"You must be so upset," she says sorrowfully, and I hesitate, not knowing what to say.

I am upset. I haven't cried yet, but... I am upset. I'm not unfeeling. I can't be.

Before I have time to snap myself out of my stupid thoughts, my phone vibrates noisily on the table, and I quickly grab it, noticing Emerson's name on the caller ID.

"Oh, sorry," I say, picking up my vibrating phone and giving Hayley an awkward smile as I get up. "I should probably take this."

"No problem."

I leave the living room, dither in the hallway, and go upstairs. I'm a little hesitant to leave Hayley alone downstairs, but I don't want her listening in on anything important.

"Emerson?"

"Hi," he says. "Holly. How's it going?"

"Uh, my neighbour slash babysitter is here at the moment, actually. She just came back from visiting her family, so I'm kind of catching her up on things."

"Right, okay. Listen. We don't know for sure yet. But we're wondering if the RoseBlood Killer... if they might have been... Clarissa."

My brows knit, and I sit on the top step, lowering my voice.

"Clarissa? No, Emerson, she's dead."

"I know that," he answers, "but me and Edith, we've been considering everything. What if Clarissa was the killer, and did kill your parents?"

"What, and then kill herself?"

"To kill you. You can die in more ways than one, Holly. Physically." He pauses. "Mentally."

My mouth opens, but no words come out for a long moment, until I manage to find them, slowly.

"You think that Clarissa wanted me to go crazy? Paranoid? Like... how my dad was paranoid?"

"Maybe. Look, it's just an idea. But it's a good one, when you think about it. Who else could it be? We've considered everyone. We thought it was Clarissa until she ended up dead. People do crazy things for love, delusional love, whatever. We've seen that, haven't we? Crazy enough..."

"To kill themself?"

"Don't you think so?" he asks me, and I let out a long breath, shaking my head in a daze.

"I don't know. I know that they want me dead, and I would have thought they would want to do it with their own hands, make it up close and personal like it was before, for all the heartbreak they think they've gone through. I do see your point, though. Another kind of horrible pain is how your mind tortures you. But... no. It's not... not how I saw it. Or wanted it, Emerson... I've been ready for them."

"We all have. But, Holly, the killer didn't and will never see how strong the true you is. You'd never break down to drastic measures because of paranoia. Seeing those bodies every night, letting your imagination take you to dark places. You're amazing at keeping yourself together. Now, I'm not saying it's definitely Clarissa Newman, but think about it. It's making sense to us more than a lot of things right now. We'll still keep watch on the cameras, of course, because it's still a possibility. But think about it for us, okay? I'll see if I can come around later."

"Yeah. Okay. I've got to get back to Hayley."

"Course. Speak to you later."

I shove my phone into my pocket and go back downstairs, trying to untwist my face from its frustrated and confused expression. Hayley finishes the rest of her tea with a faint smile as I come in, looking out the window.

"I've never appreciated how peaceful this neighbourhood is," she tells me, as I come back into the room. "So much more peaceful than Manchester."

"Yeah," I breathe, forcing a small smile on my face. "Sorry about that. It's just... yeah, just a friend with a thought."

"Oh? Interesting," she smiles. "I'm sorry things are so overwhelming for you, Holls. I should probably go. Here, let me wash the cups for you."

"I'll help you with your case, then," I say with a tired half-smile, and she beams at me thankfully.

"Alright!"

Hayley goes off into the kitchen, blonde locks bouncing at her shoulders, and I let my head roll back to stare straight up at the ceiling. I clench and unclench my hands, heaving a sigh and moving to grab her suitcase and take it to the front door.

Clarissa. It was her all along, was it?

That's it, then? I was going to be the death of myself?

Thing is, I'm still alive. And if the RoseBlood Killer isn't, then I'll never get to look them in the eye when they're cuffed and shoved out of my house. I won't get the thrill of capturing their last words to me, the ridiculously close call of almost being killed once and for all, that anyone else would cry with tears of joy to avoid, but that I was almost anticipating.

What now, then?