Caroline Cross? nah, Caroline Ray

what shade of red is blood?

5/1/65

My mom and I both heard it, it startled me awake first..glass breaking and the sounds of a brief struggle for bloodthirsty power, it had to have been a nightmare..everything was going fine today, today was my 7th birthday, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary? My breathing felt heavy, but it was short and fast. Anxiety wracked my veins as I contemplated even getting out of bed.

I was so scared..I don't know what's happening downstairs, but I still go to investigate..as I reach the stairs and grab onto the railing with shaking hands, I see my dad laying on the floor, a knife being plunged up and down into his chest. His struggles lessen gradually for each stab wound implanted into his chest.

I was shaking at this point, frozen even. I didn't move at all..but..a small part of me felt intrigued? Is that the right word for this? I almost didn't want to place my gaze elsewhere, of course I didn't want to see my dad die..but at the same time..the blood was a pretty color, I always liked red. It was vibrant and stood out from other colors, but this shade of red was dark, almost black. I didn't have THIS shade in any of my crayons or paint..I'm sure I could recreate it though, it can't be that hard. But colors aside, I had to either move, or accept my death..and like HELL I was going towards the latter option, my mom approached me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up from where I was sitting on the steps.

"Charles c'mon!" She whispered, fearfully..she dragged me into my room, towards the closet, before we reached the closet I grabbed my pocket knife from my dresser, it wasn't actually mine. I stole it from my mom and dad's room one night when they were asleep, I like blood, it tasted metallic and sour but..it wasn't all terrible, I liked how it felt, what it looked like..I heard his footsteps edging up the stairs, we both did. My mother was horrified, more for me then herself.

She put her hand over my mouth, and her other over my eyes, I pushed her hand away as she blocked my vision. "I can't breathe..!" I spoke a bit louder than I should have, she shushed me quickly..I could see the tears running down her face, and the horrified expression, something I'd never seen on her before, ever? I don't think I've ever seen my mom be anything other than happy.

I looked at her as I flicked open my knife, my hands were still shaking slightly and it took a bit of fidgeting to get it open, damn this anxiety, damn it to hell.

"I'm not scared.." I whispered to her,

"Charles please..be quiet.." she spoke in a tone just as quiet.

I held the knife up to her view.. "I wanna see what it feels like." I didn't catch what mom said, at all..I must've blacked out, not entirely..I slashed the back of her neck and stabbed her in the chest, I felt every stab and slash I was making on her..but I didn't see it? It felt like time sped up as I killed her, when I snapped back and focused again I looked at her and smiled slightly.

"Feels good.."

I heard the closet door slide open as I looked at her body, admiring my work. I turned to look at the man who killed my father, he seemed impressed with me, I like that. I wanted it, I'd be pretty damn pissed if I got any other reaction..not like I was expecting a different one. I noticed how I no longer felt that..anxiety..was it even anxiety? Or excitement? Tension? I'm not sure what to call it. It felt like my mind was trying to push my body to do what I just did..but my body didn't want To. Causing earlier's anxiety.

"I helped." I said simply,

"You sure did. Not bad, kid.."

He took my pocket knife from my bloodstained hands, and wiped the blade on his coat sleeves to clean the blood off, he handed me the knife once the blood was off. I looked up at him, completely in awe and honestly? Idolizing..if that could even be described as a feeling.

"You wanna do this right? Gotta cover your tracks, see you around kid." And with those parting words, he got up and left without a single scratch or stab inflicted on me, now I was all alone in my house but..I didn't mind. I went downstairs to observe my dad's body and what the man had done to it, God it looked just..amazing! It looked amazing, I can't keep pretending I'm scared. I'm not. If this is supposed to feel wrong, I don't want to fucking feel right.

"So..yeah..that was my first kill, I never forgot about it and hell..I've forgot about a lot, hah."

My eyes widened, a bit of shock..a bit of thrill, serotonin maybe. "Wow! That's so cool, chucky! But..did you..want to kill your mommy? I can't imagine killing mine.."

"Caroline? I used to think the same thing. Until I did it, and it felt great..also..not entirely did I want to, but..hey..spontaneous is the most fun." He looked at me with a smirk after finishing his sentence..like a joke I didn't understand.

"Well..give me time..I haven't had my first kill..at all."

"Don't worry, we'll get ya there, kiddo."

"Thanks, I dunno what I'd do without you.."