Don't Piss Off the Redhead

Death and My Mum are Related

First, I'd like to thank everyone for their patience. Second, I would like to give an explanation.

I'm making this better. Going through, correcting strange grammar and adding sentences that didn't know they were missing. Some POV changes. Some cuts. (thank goodness, I love being able to guiltlessly replace phrases)

If you've already read this and loved it, fantastic! Hopefully after this, you'll love it even more.

If you're new, congrats! You don't have to read what baby-me wrote. It was decent, but I still cringe sometimes. That's okay.

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1) Death and my Mum are Related

"Would you get off the phone already? We have to go, we'll be late!" My mum yelled.

I hastily said goodbye to my friend and shoved the last of my sandwich in my mouth as I tugged on the fancy jacket Mum had insisted I wear. We left our flat in Dublin, going to Bray for a wedding.

I loved weddings. The dresses, the decorations, the cake, the dancing. I just wasn't so sure about this wedding. Don't get me wrong, Mum's friends were really nice, and I was happy for them. I just felt... weird. Off. Maybe the sandwich meat hadn't been as fresh as I'd thought.

I dragged myself out of the car, and trudged to the cathedral. It had huge arches, lots of coloured glass where the sanctuary was. There were also a bunch of angels, Mary, Jesus, Saints, general churchy stuff. I wasn't too good at attending church, but neither was Mum, so I didn't think too much of it when we were greeted at the door by a man in black. He was wearing overly large sunglasses, so I only got a vague impression of an unremarkable face. I suppose I thought him to be a groomsman. It seemed like mum knew him.

As we were about to sit down, Mum went to the restroom. I was fine, but it was awkward sitting in a pew by yourself at a wedding you don't know anyone at. These were Mum's friends, I was just her kid.

When Mum wasn't back in five minutes, instead of sitting like an oversized doll in the pew, I decided to go check on her. I did find her in the restroom, only she was holding a gun to one of the guest's temple. Naturally, I was startled.

"Mum! What are you doing!?" I was confused and frightened. Mum glanced at me. The guest took this moment to knock the gun out of her hand. The guest then tried to strangle my mother, both hands around her neck. Mum jabbed her elbow into the woman's stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and putting her in a chokehold I recognized from when my mum would roughhouse with me. It was one of the only ones I could never get out of.

"Get out, sweetie," Mum said in a calm, controlled voice as she snatched her gun back, and tightened her grip around the lady. I backed into the door, but not quick enough. There was a muffled shot, I screamed, and Mum dropped the lady before her blue dress turned purple by stains that would be extremely hard to get out. This cold, calculating, person who had just killed someone was not my mother. My mother was a kind person. My mother carried spiders out of the house. She had never even swatted at them. My mother made the best biscuits, and would take me on picnics when it was sunny outside. I did not know this killer.

She shoved the gun in her purse, hiding it from view if someone came to investigate. Mum put on scared face and stood next to me, as though we were in this together. I hid in a corner, still screaming, eyes dry, not even able to leak a tear out. Partially because the murderer wearing my mother's face had just killed someone, and didn't look the slightest bit guilty. Another guest came in, turned whiter than freshly fallen snow, and backed out to call the police.

Mum turned to face me. She no longer looked scared. "Now darling, I need you to listen to me. That was a bad person who was hurting lots of people. They needed to be stopped. Do you hear me? You need to say that we came in together and saw the body, but were too shocked to do anything. Which is true. You are in shock, darling, and I can get you through this. Just go along with me, I'll explain later," She is very calm for having just killed someone, I thought through my haze of horror.

I had only been 13.

Four years later.

As the target paced back and forth, I hid in the shadows, a black scarf and hood covering the bright red hair that could give me away. I wished the target would get off his ridiculously large cell phone already. He had spent an hour discussing a payroll that wouldn't matter once he finished the call, and I was annoyed. Perhaps he had a bad feeling about today, and was prolonging having to deal with it.

Wouldn't be the first, won't be the last, I thought. Many targets' subconscious whispered about the shadows lurking behind the next corner, some vestige of when humans were under constant threat from wild things. Now, that threat was me. And I was annoyed with having to wait to kill the obnoxious guy.

My target finally got off his phone. I silently pulled out my switchblade. This one was supposed to look like a mugging gone wrong. Not difficult, per say, but I preferred more... elegant ways of ending a life. I wrinkled my nose at the measly piece of sharpened metal. Barely worthy of being called a knife.

Oh well. At least with the mugging-gone-wrong scenario, I got maybe twenty euros and a very nice watch to pawn off.

As he walked through the nearly empty car garage, I slipped through shadows, nearly becoming one myself. As the target got to his car, I emerged from them.

"Put your hands up, drop your keys," I said in a gruff voice, my face hidden by my hood. As he turned around slowly, a frightened look on his face, I lunged for his chest, digging the blade between his ribs. But, since the blade was easily found at a nearby convenience store, it didn't reach his heart, so I stabbed him in his stomach a couple times, making sure they were sloppy-looking. He would also die slower than if he hadn't made me wait. Imbecile. I hated waiting.

As he lay there, crumpled on the ground, I began rifling through his pockets. I found the keys to a Mercedes Benz. Lovely. I also got a decent Rolex watch, and about 250 euros in cash. This guy didn't really need a pay raise. Saints-forsaken inconsiderate greedy people.

I glared at the dying man as he took a rattling breath. Good. That meant I hit his lungs especially well. I took out a lollipop, bubblegum, and started sucking on it. Loudly. Not like anyone else could hear me. "You know, you should really never keep someone waiting," I remarked in a condescending tone. "Especially when they've the means to make you die slower than originally planned." I tsked at him and shook my head.

With that, I stabbed him twice more in the torso, speeding his unfortunate demise. I had a conscience, I just didn't use it very often. I didn't leave a job unfinished but I wasn't a particularly patient woman when it wasn't necessary. I wiped my blade on his black suit jacket, folded the knife up, and tucked it in the front pocket of my jeans. Then I sauntered away, still sucking on my bubblegum lollipop.

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So! Let me know of anything I could do to improve it! Thanks, hope you like it!

Anyhitherwho! ~KK