Short Stories

Perfectly Capable

 There she was, happy, smiling like an innocent child. Well, as innocent as a teenager could be anyway. She always acted like a child, whether it was dressing up for Halloween or just being in school, skipping and hugging her friends. She hated to be wrong, always tried to research really hard for it to be true. At movie night with her friends, she would always be the one to start the cuddle fest. She squealed and sounded like a child - like her childhood was stripped and she was just trying to make up for it. She would sit in her friends lap as she ate in lunch and people always teased them, saying they were dating which left her confused and always asked the question, "Why would they think that? Boys are gross!" Her friends always found it cute when she did that, they never knew why but never asked. Some people thought she was faking it, she just seemed oblivious to the world. Though, at the same time... She was broken. Her friends saw that she was sometimes, in the mornings when she would cry, at night when she would wake up from nightmares..

Almost every night, she would wake up from a nightmare. She never told anyone about her nightmare but the next day when they saw her at school, they would see just how terrified she was, her brown, shoulder length hair then shiny from the sweat and shower. She would break down in front of him, start crying and when she stopped, her eyes would be red and she covered them in glasses, put a smile on her face and go to class like nothing happened only to ask if they could walk home with her and spill her feelings about how she was feeling lately. She would always kick the rocks in front of her, her brown, dull eyes on the ground in front of her as the people that walked her home try to help with the problems she was facing only to go back to skipping, her dull eyes then shiny with excitement and entertainment as she squealed happily. They all knew she had problems at home but she seemed pretty happy whenever she was with them. Little did they know, the horrors, torture and hurt she went through at home. Whenever something bad happened to animals or people sometimes, she would say how horrible it was and start whimpering. She had told them that in the past, people would leave her and she grew fearful that they would leave her. Of course, she was a bit clingy but they didn't mind - they understood. They understood why she would might cry if they left and they took pity on her but she always seemed fine a few minutes later.

The small, five foot one girl would say how some of her enemies are at that school, the reason why she hated them would always be because of different reasons but everyone hates at least one person. Sometimes, enough to even commit murder... But they never suspected that she could - she was way too innocent.. Right? They never saw an inch of hatred in her eyes, her body or anything. Then again, they did find the ounce of amusement whenever Light would write a name in the Death Note.. But they always found sadness and tears whenever a character from Supernatural had died or when someone died from Harry Potter. Most of her friends kind of glossed over that little detail. Only one would always confront her about it and she always grew sad and say, "Do you really think I'm capable of murder...? I just.. I just think they deserved it.. They were the exact people that always prove that humans are disgusting creatures." That one friend would always confront her only to get the same answer. They knew that something was off - she found amusement in characters deaths when they would die.. She would have fantasies of murdering her family, her enemies! How could all her friends just gloss over that fact? Soon, he gave up and went with the rest, wary of her and still slightly afraid but soon relaxed as she found maybe she was right. Maybe it was just her opinion.

It's been two or three months since all his confrontations. Everything was as normal as possible. Well, until term ended and she found out she had classes with a few of her enemies. Three of which, she wasn't sure why they hated her but since they hated her, she hated them. Though, they saw something in her eyes that concerned them.. It was.. It was hatred. They've never seen that in her. Her.. She.. The perfect, small, little girl that was so innocent and child-like.. Too oblivious for any of the world to bother her. Yet those three people.. Barely having done anything.. Bothered her. Why? It was concerning for all of them but they didn't really think anything of it. She was still the happy girl they saw when they weren't around, the jumpy, naive small girl.

Yet, there she stood... Her once dull brown eyes now filled with malice and hatred, her Ravenclaw blue-and-grey shirt now stained in red, there was no trace of regret or sorrow. Her small, delicate fingers was wrapped the sharp tipped knife tightly, her knuckles were white, and the blade was dripping with blood. It's not at all how the movies picture it, no.. Rather, the blade, from the tip to the very bottom is dripping, going to the grip in which her hand rests. Sighing, she shakes her head, a smirk, a mischevious smirk gets plastered on her face. "You hurt me... You deserve this... Oh no... Don't move.. Not now.." She giggled. The small, frail girl was looking down at the broken girl below her. Her wrist was probably broken and she had blood dripping from the hole in her stomach. She was trying to crawl away. Well, until the girl above her put her foot on her back. "No, you don't get to live.. You'll struggle for a few more moments... You'll be in pain, that searing pain you feel? I won't stop that... Die... Die... DIE!" She yelled when she saw her still breathing, slamming her medium foot, her right foot, with the Supernatural shoe, onto her back, straight on her spine. The girl's mouth opened, seeming to scream, to cry out, tears left her eyes, blood came out of her mouth. "Not so pretty now are you?! Yeah.. I'm ugly.. Even uglier because of you, your blood is on me! Ugh pretty girls don't deserve to live." She said, seemingly to herself.

Her bottom half was dripping in blood now. I was right... That does feel amazing... She thought as she watched the girl in front of her die. She laughed... She didn't cry or anything... She didn't feel pity... Remorse... Regret... She felt happy. "I see now why people murder... Though, this wasn't for fun, now was it?" She sneered, bending down to look at the bloodied and dead girl in front of her, her red hair cascading down her back, her slim features barely noticeable now. The girl screamed in frustration and kicked her face in. "EVEN DEAD, YOU'RE STILL PRETTIER THAN ME! STOP RUBBING IT IN MY FACE! STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!" She yelled as she repeatedly kicked the dead body before she finally stopped and rubbed the blood on the dead girl's sport sweater, leaving the scene.

Three bodies were found mutilated and murdered, all three in the same house. Police has said that they have thought of some suspects but- The news lady was cut off by the girl in a blue skirt, tilting her head. "That's not very fun to hear in the morning." She said, a pout gracing her lips. Her friends frowned. Why wasn't she crying or anything? She sat besides them and shrugged a bit, "I'm really tired... Barely got sleep last night... How are the rest of you?" She asked, a small smile gracing her lips as she asked, the friends around her replying hesitantly. The friend that always suspected her as an odd one noticed something... Her shoe... It was red... Was that blood? The girl noticed that he was staring and looked at her shoes, smiling, "Oh! I got some new designs on my shoes... I got bored and the red marker was the only thing I could find.." He still suspected her but shrugged it off.

The rest of the day, everything seemed to be normal. At lunch, she had a breakdown about the dead bodies, crying silently and calming down before the bell rang. Almost like every day...

Their days seemed normal until a week later and that smiling, childish girl was in cuffs, being dragged out of the school, crying and screaming, "It wasn't me, I swear! I... I hate them... I hate- I need them!" She whimpered, her eyes pleading for help at anyone who stared at her. Even her friends were in shock. But what unsettled them was what they heard next:
Laughing...
She was...

She was laughing... A weak, pitiful laughter that soon turned into a crazed laughter, "IT FELT DAMN GOOD TO DO IT TOO!" She yelled, now kicking the car in attempt to get out of going with them. That was all the confession they needed as they shoved her inside.

It was barely a day before they found out that the girl had killed herself... In the prison... She had stolen a gun and shot herself, they found cuts on her arms and pleading death notes for someone, anyone to kill her... It horrified their friends and they weren't sure what to think. Most of them needed to go to therapy, the others shrugged it off as a nightmare they all simultaneously had.

In the end, it didn't matter, the memory pushed back in their minds, needing to be unlocked with a very powerful key - they all knew it wouldn't be unlocked, they swore upon it. They wouldn't speak of it... Though, in the middle of the nights, it didn't stop that powerful key to unlock the memories, give them alternate endings and give them what could've actually happened instead of what really happened.