the girl called mystery

• 12 •

I brush myself off, "Damn straight."

My father smirks, "Watch your mouth."
He lifts his hand and pulls back. I know what's about to happen. A harsh slap hits me across my face. Both of my cheeks are in pain now.

I grab my face in agony. My father hovers over me with his switchblade in hand. His bottle crashed on the floor. A puddle of liquid and glass shards lay close to the doorway. The blade is set at my neck. I feel my heart sink. I don't want to die this way.

"What the fuck?" Colin rises up. His fists are clenched.

"Try me if you dare, white boy," my father flashed the blade again.

"No, Colin, no!" I hollered.

Too late.

Colin threw two punches before his throat was slit. I witnessed him fall back in defeat. My father dropped the bloody switchblade next to Colin's body.

I ran to him, "Colin! Stay with me! Please, please, please." I have no idea what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. I took my drawstring off my back and got my phone and quickly tried to dial 911. I saw the life begin to fleet from his eyes.

Great. There's no service here. I have to make a choice. Do I stay with Colin or do I make my escape. Stay or go? Go or stay? I have to leave. Colin would have wanted it this way. He doesn't want me to die here. But he doesn't want to die here either. Looks like it's too late for him though. The deed's been done.

I lean down and kiss him on his forehead. "Thank you. You were a good one."

I picked up the switchblade and pierced a hole right in his heart. The growing bloodstain in his shirt granted me pure satisfaction. It was unsettling. My father stood in the doorway watching me. He smiled as I stood up, walking to him.

"You've come a long way, Estelle. You really have. I'm glad you've decided to finally accept who you truly are."
My father pulls me in for a hug, and I jerk away from him.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not like you. I'm-I'm better than this!"

"Are you? Is anyone really better than what they think they are?"