"You're so cute," he leaves a soft kiss on my shoulder, "and beautiful," he buries his nose in my hair, planting another kiss against my neck, "and incredibly smart," he smiles against my skin, moving slightly to tilt my head, "and finally mine."
A...
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A R I A
I feel as bruised as Uncle Paul looks. It's like I've been slapped in the face in front of an enormous crowd. The cracks in my heart become larger until it finally shatters all over again.
My Aunt Lydia.
The woman who'd always manage to make me laugh no matter the circumstances, the person who'd cry with me and hold me together so I wouldn't fall apart. One of the most supportive, loving, and important people in my life, the person who I thought would always be there for me, has been against me this whole time.
Oh god, no. No, no, no! How could it be her? How could my Aunt Lyd be my parents' murderer? No, this has got to be a joke or, hell, an episode or something. This can't be real. She has to be kidding.
"No . . ." I breathe out, shaking my head furiously. This isn't the Lydia I know. "It can't be you. It can't. Not you, Aunt Lyd."
"What?" she scoffs, a smirk forming on her lips, but it's not the usual teasing kind. It's the type villains wear in movies, and that alone is enough to send shivers down my spine. "You think I'm joking?"
All of a sudden she's aiming the pistol at my feet, and before anyone can even register what's happening she pulls the trigger. My screams are engulfed with the sound of the gunshot, Paul's grunts, Miles' yelling, and Aunt Lydia's chuckles.
I shut my eyes and wait for the familiar pain to course through my body, but when it doesn't come I slowly open them up to see pieces of hardwood plank in front of my feet, the area been completely demolished. The only pain I can feel are tiny splinters in my toes, and though they make me grunt, there is no pain greater than the ache in my shattered heart.
"I don't kid around, Aria," she spits my name like each letter is dripping with venom and her tone of voice makes me flinch, "not anymore. I have been waiting for this moment since before you were even born, and now that it has finally arrived, I can guarantee you that no one but myself will leave this house without a bullet hole in their head."
My eyes snap to Miles, who's frantically searching for a weapon of some sort. Oh, god. How is this happening?
"My only dilemma," Aunt Lydia continues, a malicious smirk stretching across her lips, "is that I have to decide who to kill first."
No, no, no.
"You?" I choke out, still unable to believe this is happening. "It was you? You killed them, A-Aunt Lyd?"
"Jesus," she mutters, and I catch her rolling her eyes as a sliver of moonlight crosses over her face, "how many times am I going to have to repeat myself? Yes, you stupid girl. It was me."
