Delicatly Fatal

What I believe

He looked at me as though I was the flower which laid in the cracks of the pavement; crushed and ruined, disappointing and weak. Little did he know, his negativity in me only powered my body and gave me all the energy I needed to be able to complete what I had started.

**

I reminded my mum (for what seemed like the ten thousandth time) that I did not need any help. "Darling, I'm worried about you." She repeated her weekly cry. "You're not normal, I mean, you shaved your sisters hair off for fun." I laughed at the thought.

Little did mum know my sister was struggling with chemo therapy and couldn't face the fear of telling mother the truth.

"You replaced your fathers bath robe with itching powder, your behaviour is not normal."

Again mother is wrong. My sister had a fight with dad and only had one way of getting him back, itching powder. I do not understand how my family believe I have anger issues when really, I stay at home to look after my sister. I cook and clean for everyone, not that anyone notices... They think it's my Amber (my sister).

"You bunk off of school and you waste your life away. Beth, you need to do something with your life." I've had enough.

"Mother what do you know about living ? All you do is sit in an office which smells of old suits and coffee, then you come home and have a bath. You cannot lecture me about living when you don't even understand the definition of it." I sighed at the disapproving scowl on mums face.

"And that's why I'm so desperate for you to live your life Beth; because I'm not living mine." Then she left the car and walked inside the big hall I can only describe as hell.

Bethany Pete Maws

Anger and temper

Room 221

I slumped in the ugly green chair which held an uncomfortable amount of tears and had heard the most secrets no other ear had listened to. The lady done her regular routine and I answered with the same sequence: nod, smile, stare and drop my glance to the ground, say silent and laugh when she asks if I'm ok. It's how the session always goes and it will never change.

"I do not understand how you possibly could think for one minute that I would answer your questions seriously. I have no problem but then again, you believe I'm just denying it as part of my 'illness'. I have no anger issues and I do not have a temper, I just prefer to state what I think through voice rather then keeping it locked away in my head like a secret and then I'm labeled with 'too much anger'. I believe if I have thought it, it's just as bad as saying it aloud, am I right? No, I'm no right because that would mean there's nothing wrong with me where you and mother believe otherwise." I sipped my water.

"Beth this is not what-"

"But then again, who are you two to tell me what I am. I know I have no issues, I don't raise my voice unless you raise yours. Mother doesn't even see me much so she doesn't get to witness my 'anger'. You, you're a therapy lady who gets paid to try and give advise. You know what, the advise you give is all theory's people have came up with to try and label what problems everyone has." I laughed.

"You're struggling, I can see the anger you're holding. Beth it's ok-"

"Stop, I'm leaving and I'm cancelling our future lessons. You may be a therapist but you sure don't listen to what I have to say. You're as bad as a deaf person, you have ears but you don't listen to what anyone's saying." I stood to my feet and left.

With red cheeks and my hair flying in my face I turn't the corner of the street and looked left and right. Mum wasn't here, great. My feet slammed against the pavement while I gripped my bag tightly, the nights sky has always frightened me. Everything evil seems to awaken in the darkness and being alone in my town, that's just asking for me to get wrapped up in some web made by the sinless.

"Shut up."

I stopped. My breathing quickened and my heels dug in the ground.

"It's arse-holes like you which make my skin crawl with excitement. I love he satisfaction of taking your life like you've taken others." A laugh echoed through the alleyway ahead.

If I tiptoe and hold my breath then maybe, I won't be seen. Beth that's wrong, help the person being... Killed? Walking forwards I stood still, a man was held against the wall, his feet dangling two feet off the ground. Long fingers were wrapped around his throat while his eyes poured with tears, his skin was red raw and his mouth was trembling. I followed the arm holding the mans place and met contact with the eyes of the murder, his grin caught my attention on the fun he's feeling of killing this man.

"You ok there love?" His deep voice silenced my breathing while his smile caught my breath.

"Why are you still here?" He grew confused, I'm assuming on why I haven't ran away. If my feet would lift off the floor and my breath would enter my lungs then maybe I would.

"It's a little late, get out of town kid." His head turn't to the man struggling for his life. I sighed, his stare had gone giving me access to my breath. I realised what he had said and shook my head.

"I'm not a kid." There was clear annoyance in my voice and I didn't care.

"It's not late." And the bells rang straight after, reassuring me that it indeed wasn't late.

"And I'm not the one who should be asked if they're fine." I smiled lightly. He is killing someone and he's asking me if I'm ok.

The man whose eyes had started to droop was thrown to the floor, letting him gasp for air and wipe his tears.

"I like you." The killer smiled while taking a step towards me.

"I don't trust you." I frowned and took a step back.