Sad, scared, and abused.

Chapter 3

Alice sat in her room on the cold floor with her head in her hands, crying and shaking. She had never felt that type of fright before, and never wanted to again. She could feel all the blood rushing to her face in embarrassment and regret. The feeling of anxiety was still strong, and Alice had her hands clutched to her stomach in hope to ease the pain. There had been a feeling of adrenaline and excitement but it was very faint.
Images of jail and court were flashing through her panicked mind, and Alice knew that there was only one thing that would ease her thoughts.
Her mother.
She was so beautiful, and not just in a physical way. She was kind, and good. Alice's father never deserved her, even if he hadn't turned out to be a maniac, he still wouldn't have deserved a woman like her. She was like an angel with long blonde hair that fell gently down by her tiny waist, always putting people before her and never going a day without doing something kind for another person.
She worked hard, and always told Alice that she was saving up so she could have enough money for the two of them to get a beautiful house. She hated this one, said it reminded her of loneliness.
Alice found herself wishing that her father had died instead of her mother, Willow. He was the worst kind of person, cruel and not an ounce of mercy inside of him.
When Alice was only six years old she watched him from the doorway as he murdered her first pet, a small golden retriever. She couldn't bare to watch the whole thing, but she saw him pick the puppy up, and she heard the thud followed by a sharp bark. Alice had never gotten over that memory, it had been so traumatizing to her to think that someone actually had it in them to murder such an innocent being such as a harmless animal.
Alice was sitting upright now, her eyes filled with tears and her fists clenched at her sides. For the first time in a long time she felt something other than utter sadness. She was furious. He had done nothing to prove his worth in this world, and taken too many lives. Alice's thoughts turned to dark ones, and all that was ringing through her head was to kill him. Kill him like he had killed so many things in her lifetime.
It was like something had taken over her, Alice wasn't in control anymore. This thing, this angry murderous part of her was overflowing out of her body and she knew she was going to kill him.
Her father was asleep in his big chair in the living room with a beer still in one of his grimy hands.
Alice  in front of him now, knife in hand and close enough to plunge the it into his heart.
And that's exactly what she did. She took all of her anger, all the times he had hurt her, the last screams of her dying mother and she projected it all into the knife that was going deeper into his chest.
The beer bottle had dropped out of his hands, his eyes were wide in shock. He was speechless. Alice remember all of these traits from when she witnessed her mother die, and this caused even more anger.
The satisfaction she felt from doing this was terribly great.

He wasn't breathing anymore, and that's when it hit her. She killed her father.
Alice began to scream, and scream, and scream. She screamed until her voice cracked and her throat felt like it was going to break open. Then Alice ran, She got out of that house and she ran.