I was randomly sneaking along the inside walls of someone’s house, wandering through the long corridors filled with doors. “One woman living alone shouldn’t have that many rooms...” I thought, shuffling along to the one room with a light on. Her name was Miss Havisham. Her fiancé had left her at the altar long ago, yet she was still dressed in her long white wedding gown, which had turned slightly yellow. Only one foot was slipped into a shoe, as she had stopped in the moment her heart had forever been scared with a memory of loneliness. I slowly snuck up behind her, my hands warm and ready. Frank waited right outside the door, ready for when I called him. I grabbed the old woman by the neck. As soon as she started struggling, I signaled Frank.

“Just forget my hands around your throat!” I said as her face turned the same colors as the drowning man’s had. Frank was busy ripping into her stomach, just as he and Gerard had done when they had tried to kill Skylar. We added her smile as she drifted off into unconsciousness. After all, she couldn’t scream if she couldn’t breathe! We dragged her body through the labyrinth of halls, to the ground floor, where here beautiful pool was just begging to be used. Frank quickly dumped her in, watching as the swirling blood made beautiful patterns in the chlorinated water.

The police found her the next day, face down and slightly bloated, taking snapshots with their camera lenses. A small girl whose eyes sparkled like stars stood by and watched as they fished her adoptive mother out of the pool. She didn’t cry one bit, but stood there with a face like a rock. It was simple enough to see that she had no feelings for the woman who had raised her.

“Rich Woman Found Dead in Pool” The headlines on the newspapers no one read anymore shouted.

“Evidence Found at Scene.” The subtitle read. My face went white as I saw it appear on the news later that day. A single black hair was found near the pool. I looked to Frank, who stared blankly ahead, not budging at the sound of one of his newborn daughters crying. He touched his greasy hair with one hand and stopped everything. It had only been us that night. My hair was blonde.

“Testing for DNA has begun.” The TV said in the background. Frank and I stared at each other, silently asking the other what to do.

“Maybe they won’t find anything.” He whispered.

“They have enough technology to find out everything.” I responded.

Notes

Poor lady full of sorrows...