Murderous Heart

Chapter One

     Beth was only five. Beth was five but she still can remember all these details. She still remembers them like it was yesterday. Beth wakes up screaming and crying but her father can't even walk up the stairs to come comfort me because of how drunk he is. So she just lays there, on a pillow soaked with tears, all she can do is try and distract her mind and tell herself everything is fine, it's only a dream.

     I remember mother was combing my hair with her vintage hair brush she got when she traveled to China. She told my to go sit on the bed, so I did. I sat on her bed as she combed through my hair and go all the knots out. I would look in the mirror infront of me and wonder what I would look like if I was a light brunette like her. I was complaining to her how I didn't like having pitch black hair, and she would tell me it was just a dark brown. I was telling her how I didn't like being an olive skin tone and wanted to be pale like her. She would tell me she loved my skin tone, but I would say that I look too much like dad and that I hated it. 

     It was noon on a Saturday. She was almost done braiding my hair when all of a sudden we hear the front door creak open. She told me to be quiet since I was humming the tune of my favorite song at the moment Blue Light 'till Dawn. She got up off the bed and tip toed to peek outside the door.. and then she gasped. She ran into the room shut the door with a lock and said "Betty don't make a damn noise! This is really serious darling okay?" She looked so terrified but at the same time she gave me the look I will never forget... She looked at me like she knew this was the end of her. That look gives me the chills to this day and I can't get it out of my head. The way her eyes were looking at me but they were clearly focused on what her life had been. I nodded and looked at her with a confusing, sad look. She told me " Honey get under that bed and don't make a peep until your father gets home at six." 

     I got under the bed and held my moms brush and my teddy bear in my arms. She staked books on the three three sides of the bed that weren't touching a wall. It was almost pitch black. But there were some openings where I could perfectly look out to the room but the room couldn't see me. I saw my mother standing against the door breathing so quietly but the room was so silent I thought I could hear her from a mile away. Then the door knob was twisting, at first it was turning gently. Then I felt the entire room start shaking, he was slamming against the door with all his might. I had so much hope that that door would never open, but to my disappointment, it did. I couldn't make out his face so I just focused on what he wore: a brown leather jacket , a black shirt, blue jeans, and brown cowboy boots. 

     In is hand was a axe. I only knew the name of the tool because my father days before Christmas took my mother and I Christmas tree shopping. Then he asked me if I knew what type of tool he needed to chop the tree down. I said a hammer and both my parents lightly giggled, he proceeded to tell me it was an axe. 

     My mothers voice was so shaky as she said "Please don't do this, I never did anything to you, I have a kid, please." 

     He got closer and closer and said "I have to, you hurt my feelings." He got so close my mother was crying against the wall while his hands trailed down her head to her neck to her lower back. He went in for a kiss and said "one last time." and she pulled away crying. 

     From behind he shoved her onto the floor and yelled things like " You whore! ""You lead me on!""You're married!" You should be ashamed!"" I'm doing your husband a favor!" His voice sounded like he was from Boston. She wasn't saying a word, just crying so loud. Under the bed I clenched my teddy bear and squeezed him to the point I thought I was going to pop his head off. He took his axe and swinged it high into the air then down to her leg. Then another swing to her back. Then another one to her head. By that point I couldn't handle having my eyes open so I went into a ball, covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut. Blood from the few openings where I could see out of splattered over my face, over my teddy bear and the brush. Her blood pooled all the way to where I lay curled up. I lied in a pool of my mothers blood. How's that for traumatizing? 

     He left soon after and left no traces on himself because he had been wearing latex gloves. I waited with my eyes open starring at my dead mothers blood from under the bed. I wondered what time it was. It felt like a eternity waiting for my father to get home just as my mother said. After what I felt had been months I heard keys jingling and trying to unlock the door. I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't terrified of him coming back, still to this day I get shivers hearing the door open. 

   Then I heard my father say "Kiddo I'm home! Where's my beautiful wife?" he sounded so happy, that was the last time I ever heard his voice go into a higher pitch, so much that I could hear his smile. I heard his foot steps coming up the stairs. He walked straight into the master bedroom where my mothers body lay. I'm glad I couldn't see his face when he first saw her. I just heard his panic. He started bawling, I could hear his heart break into a million pieces. After about five minutes of him accepting what his eyes were seeing he yells "BETH! BETTY! BETH HONEY ARE YOU HERE?" 

     Then I couldn't hold it in and I started crying and said "DADDY! DADDY! MOM! WHAT? WHY?" He threw those layers of books out of the way so I saw perfectly what had become of my moms body. There was so much blood and her body was chopped into 3 pieces but with many stabs in between. Her head was split in two and part of her leg was completely off her body. In the middle of her back her body was almost disconnected completely too. My dad pulled me out from under the bed and the last thing I remember is my dad cleaning me in the bathtub.