The Shattered Memory of a Violinist

//Ten - Violinist's Don't Commit Crimes//

//Ten — Violinist's Don’t Commit Crimes//

Willa Van der Mariel

To say I was feeling one-hundred percent confident would be a lie, I was actually quite nervous this wouldn’t work. But, I quickly pushed out my negative thoughts before they could consume my mind, and went over the materials in front of me that I needed.

Garbage Bag - check 

Prongs - check

Rope - check

Stink bomb that was supplied by my lunatic brother - check

Itching powered (again from Eldon. I suspect black-market) - check

Pegs - check

Wearing super cute outfit, that makes my curves look more curvier - check.

All set.

I doubled checked my clock, and saw that it was only a few minutes past midnight. Mason hadn’t spoken to me when I had gotten home, all the whole night, even. Which in it’s own right was pleasant, and made me feel much calmer. The quietness also helped me go over my plan at least twice.

Or seven times.

Next door, I could see Mason’s figure wrapped in the blanket’s, only just though. I sort of had to angle my head in a funny position to make sure I wasn’t seen. I tugged on my black beanie that I had found at the bottom of my draws from elementary school — it was kind of upsetting when it still fit. I waited for a few more seconds, before getting quietly to my feet. I had preyed that I wouldn’t fall over, and hoped God would listen.

Although, I am not even sure God could stop me from falling over flat surfaces.

I gathered up my material’s, and widened my window, carefully avoiding noise. I refused to look down, because then I would fall to my death.

Breath, breathe. Don’t look down.

What do I do? I look down. It’s only a small distance, and below is large shrub that makes the fall look gloomier and more deadly then it would be. I look up, swallowing again, then slowly reach out to his window — which was wide open, and used my long legs to crawl over and slip into his room.

WITHOUT A NOISE! Ha! THAT’S HOW WE DO IT! I AM THE QUEEN!

Willa, shut up and do the bloody prank before you wake someone up.

I huff, and quickly glance around the room. The room is dark, but the lamp from the bathroom illuminates the room.

Aw, is he scared of the dark?

The bathroom I know would lead to Mara’s room, and boy am I glad I see her familiar blonde hair curled in purple blankets from here. Mason’s room isn’t very exciting. There are boxes still, but most of his furniture is unpacked. A picture of his sister and him wearing their halloween customs sits beside his bed, and warms my heart. In the picture, his sister is dressed as a cookie and he is superman.

Don’t worry, he is like ten in the picture.

As soon Mason. I can’t see his face, since he is looking away from, and his pretty face is had dug into the pillows. Some part of me worries if he can breath, while the other hopes he can’t. Quickly, I remember why I was here and crawl across the room to the chest where all his underwear is. I open the draw, and almost choke. There, of course, is a box of condoms sitting neatly upon his folded piles of underwear.