Bringer of Bad Luck

Chapter 4

A red sticky liquid now clung to Miss Duncan's hands, mixing with the soft curls of her hair, and the stench of blood hung in the air. Black dots danced in her vision, forcing her to close her eyes, but even so, the black spots still appeared before her. In addition to holding the spot where pain emitted from, Miss Duncan also let out low whimpers along with her labored breathing, trying to prevent herself from letting out another cry of pain.

Sometimes we regret decisions we make, and right about now, Miss Duncan was only feeling a sense of regret for having come to teach the 'red-eyed devil.' Even with a hammer figuratively pounding against her head, making her feel as though her head was about to split open, she regretted having a student like the one she was supposed to be teaching at the moment. If she'd turned around, then maybe she wouldn't have been in her current predicament. If the little girl didn't have such a loaded father, no one would want to be in her company, she was such a freak. If only, if only, in the back of her mind, she thought of what had befallen her. If only the little girl wasn't there, then maybe her heel may not have broken when she was so close to the desk, causing her to fall forward and smashing her head against the left corner edge of the table that Crimson sat at.

If only that 'demon' had never been born, then this would've never happened to her, that was her last thought before the black dots finally vanished and darkness seeped into her world until it had completely enveloped her.

She blamed everything on Crimson and all the things  and people that caused her frustrations in life. She never thought of the faults in her character or the fact that this could be all due to coincidences, but still, to a certain point, it wasn't wrong to blame Crimson for what had happened to her.

After Miss Duncan had ended up on the floor, Crimson barely spared her a glance and then returned to looking out the window, apparently admiring the scenery or, she was possibly curious about some sort of critter that had made it's home near to her house.

After about fifteen minutes that the lady lay motionless on the floor, there was a soft knock on the door, and without waiting for an answer or invitation to enter, the person on the other end twisted the knob and flung the door open. Crimson's father who was wearing a goofy grin and had a tray of cookies and other sweets along with a cup of juice in his hand, was revealed. At first, he didn't notice the limp body that lay on the floor, instead, his eyes were trained on the back of Crimson's head and the part of her face that he could actually see. Crimson's dad was unfazed by the fact that she didn't seem to acknowledge his presence, rather, he questioned to himself, what she saw outside that was so intriguing. Then, momentarily, he wondered where Miss Duncan was, they were supposed to be in the middle of a lesson now, hence the reason he'd brought snacks for his daughter, to allow her to occupy herself while she absently listened to Miss Duncan rattle off her and knowledge and schooling.

Suddenly, he felt the familiar feeling of skin brushing against his foot. He'd completely stepped over Miss Duncan's legs and the side of her left calf was touching his bare feet.

Almost immediately, his head snapped to the flaw and what he saw made his goofy grin disappear. With what he saw, Crimson's father's grip on the silver tray greatly intensified as his eyes grew to be as wide as saucers and the words 'what the,' trickled with a slur out of his mouth.

He then glanced back to his daughter who was away from the body on the floor, to observe that she was seemingly unaffected and indifferent to the limp body of her tutor. Quickly, Crimson's father put the tray in front of Crimson, then gave Miss Duncan his undivided attention. He dropped to his knees, slightly raising Miss Duncan's head off of the floor to see the damage. He was at first reluctant to move her, but seeing the blood that oozed out onto the Italian wood-flooring from the wound on the side of her head that was pressed to the floor, his better judgement coerced him into moving her body.