Poison Rose

The Tueur Twins

Before you read
This may have small mistakes
Enjoy?
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I start my strut down the street to my home. It quickly works into a run. I hop over the three front steps and open the door. Miss Angelica's Home for the Young and the Specially Gifted a small sign gleams on the door frame. Oh yes it's for the young, but there isn't a soul in this house that "specially gifted", unless you're referring to them as crazy.

After jogging up two flights of stairs (and getting winded), I get into my room. I pull a small box from under my bed and drop the silver bell in my hand into it.

"One day these will come in handy," I whisper to my self. What am I thinking? The best these things could do is sit and look pretty. That's a John job.

Speaking for John, I wonder how he's doing. He's caught a nasty cold. And all he's been doing is sitting around waiting for the relief of death. It's ironic that he is liveliest person you could meet, but he's the closest to death than a man standing on the edge of a cliff. 

I ask one of the kids how he's doing. They said that Miss Hannah is not allowing us to see John, he might get us sick and put someone in his condition.

And to you too, Miss Hannah, do I give you a big ol' fuck-a you.

I pull one of the two books from my nightstand onto my lap. Basic Plant Notes. I jot down a few things on the back pages and draw a picture of a flower. Belladonna. I wish I knew more about the plants. I want to help John. The doctors around here don't know shit. When they tried to treat him, he just got worse. I clinch my fist until the pencil breaks. The two ends fall onto the ground. I kick them under  my bed.

After placing down the book, I go to the bathroom. Thank lordy lords that no one is in here. One bathroom can get hard to share with 20+ children.

I close the door and "lock" the door( a hamster could open the door with its strength). I use the chamber pot and wash my hands in the small water bucket. I open the door back up, breaking the lock once more. I mutter and walk back to my room.

When I enter, I'm greeted with one of  my room. Janet. She was shuffling near my bed when I walked in.

"Where you touching my things," I hiss at her. I swear to Miss Hannah's flat chest, if she did, Janet will look worse than one of the undead.

"No, I just wanted to see if you had any rags I could use," she says back. She pushes back her blonde hair from her face.

"Henry has plenty," I says as I sit down. "And if he didn't, ask before taking my things." A grimace inches across my face.

"Henry didn't have any," she let's out a sigh. "May I borrow a rag of yours?"

"No."

"What?! I asked!" Janet is already turning red. She really needs to fix that short temper of hers.

"You still snooped. Go ask someone else."

Janet flares up. "Oh fine!" She gets up an stomps to the door.

"By the way, to break it to you. John died earlier today!" She yells as she leaves.

It took a few minutes, but what she said finally got to me.