08. upon my liar's chair

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"I'm so happy because today I've found my friendsThey're in my head"

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"I'm so happy because today
I've found my friends
They're in my head"

-Nirvana, Lithium

Despite the obvious signs that she wasn't cognitively functioning properly, or as a normal person would, Violet carried out most of her daily routines excluding the social parts. She hadn't left the house in several days and called into work sick, claiming she had the flu; it's not like she would do anything at work with her mother on her business trip.

More like her business trip to hell, Violet constantly thought to herself. There's no doubt that's where she ended up.

Florence's disappearance wouldn't be noticed for up to a week which was when she was supposed to be back at work. Luckily, Graham hadn't asked questions about why their mother decided to leave early as he had no reason to. He appeared indifferent to the lack of communication from her. She had yet to call to check up on the two after she "reached" her supposed destination like usual.

But, what bothered Violet was that Graham also didn't seem to care if she was sick. She wasn't that bad of a liar but her brother could usually see straight through her and he hadn't called her out yet. He never questioned why she didn't go to work or why she hadn't left the house to go visit her friend from the circus.

Later, by day three of not leaving the house, Violet was uncomfortable with the thought that her mother's body still resided in the house, a floor above her. The bedroom likely smelled awful and would soon cause the entire house to smell. So, to take relieve the burden from herself, Violet thought that cleaning the murder scene. Disposing of the body would reduce her anxiety about Graham finding it.

Before doing anything, Violet took the liberty of googling the decomposition process to see the effects of rigor mortis. Reading some of the blogs and websites didn't exactly make her feel better once she read that by the third-day foam would leak from the body. The thought of seeing her mother like this made her nauseous. She could only imagine what Fitz's deformed body looked like right about now, assuming that he hadn't been found yet.

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"There you go, a nice cozy corner in the wine cellar," Violet crossed her arms, viewing the broken looking corpse in the corner of the small room. "I know how much you like wine mother so you're welcome. Although, please note this is only temporary until I can find the right resting place for you."

It was hard getting Florence to the basement, also it was incredibly disgusting. Her limbs were stiff and smelt so repulsing that Violet had to take several breaks to keep from throwing up. Her face as sunken in and the weird foam that was supposedly going to leak out of the body dripped down her chin and into her rust stained shirt.

Cleaning the completely white bedroom proved more difficult than moving the body. Everything in the room bleached and scrubbed down. The best Violet could do was bring down the color of the dried blood to a hue of dull brown. Flecks of dried blood still flecked the carpet. This is why one should never commit murder in a room surrounded by white. But, eventually, Violet was going to redo the room and replace literally everything up to the ceiling light.

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