Stains


Utter concentration traced the girl’s soft and pale features. Hand clenched tightly on the handle of the blade that she was slowly dragging against white skin. The phone rang, its loud, piercing sound shattering the perfect moment. The razor in her hand jerked, destroying the straight line she was carving in the flesh of her right arm. A scowl etched itself across her face and, clutching the blade tight again, continued her previous activity. Perhaps if she ignored it long enough that the person calling would give up on trying to reach her.

Several rings later she reluctantly set down the blade and decided that whoever was on the other end of the line was too determined. “Hello?” she said, blood dripping down the arm from the gash as she held the phone to her ear. The response, “Hey Lynn,” sent shivers up her. “How’ve you been, Terry?” Terry was the one person in Kaitlynn’s life that she had any room for in her heart. His deep voice and cheerful smile inflamed her body and soul with passion.

Idle chitchat filled the moments and then rushed them by so quickly that before she knew it Dave, her father, was home. Well, he was her father in the sense that after he fucked her mother, Lynn was born, but that was about it. He neither cared for her nor expected love, and that was alright with her.

“Hey bitch, get off the fucking phone! How in fucking hell am I supposed to order a fucking pizza with you jabbering on and on with your fucking pimp?”

The scowl that had just recently departed darkened her face again, as it did so frequently in her life. “Listen, Terry. The drunk’s back and he wants me to get off so he can order some pizza. But before you go, would you like to come over tonight?” Terry had been out of touch with her for the past couple of days, and both her body and spirit sorely wished for him to return to the routine that had begun since she met him. Terry cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Lynn, I’d really love to, but Mom’s making me go to a party.”

Noticing how he avoided mentioning whose party it was, she put some false cheer in her voice. “Where at?” An awkward silence filled the stale air, and then he spoke once more. “Bethany’s.” He had pretty accurately guessed her reaction, and her fist tightened around the phone. She didn’t really know Bethany very well, but it’s pretty easy to hate someone who’s trying to steal from you the love of the only person worth living for.

You’d have to be either stupid or oblivious to miss the lewd flirting that she threw upon that boy. It wasn’t the first time some silly girl had had a crush on one of the more popular guys in school, but it was the first time that he had paid any attention to one of them. What Lynn didn’t know was that his mom, who just happened to be close friends with Bethany’s mother, was pressuring him to form a friendship with the showy but desperate prep. And of course, Terry didn’t want to tell anyone that his mom had any control over his social life – he’d be the laughingstock of school in no time.

After another couple of embarrassed seconds, she found her voice again, much to her surprise. "Oh. Well, bye." Her voice, before silky and joyful, had a hollow sound, and she set the phone down with that, not wanting to wait to hear his reaction. Glancing at the blood that had collected beneath the cut on her arm, which was even now scabbing up, she methodically grabbed a shirt that was hanging from the bedpost and dropped it on the puddle, not bothering to check if it had absorbed everything out of the dark red carpet - it wasn't as if anyone would notice. The color helped, but Lynn suspected that even if her carpet were white no one would note the stains.

**********

Sunlight drifted lazily through the dark curtains, just bright enough to awaken the sleeping girl. Blinking wearily, she climbed out of bed, glancing at the clock as she walked toward her dresser. Eleven already? Oh well. So she’ll miss another day of school. Who gives a shit. Pulling on black sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt in spite of the obvious warmth, Lynn quietly stalked down the stairs. If she could just get to the kitchen without making any noise, Dave wouldn’t wake up. No such luck. On the second to last stair she slipped on a loose scrap of clothing. A deep rumble came from the chair in front of the TV, where her father pretty much lived, and a voice called out. “Kait, do me a favor and go get me a beer. And don’t be a bitch about it, either, it’s too early in the morning for that.”

Deciding to just ignore him, Lynn continued on towards the kitchen, where she fixed herself a bowl of cereal. Slowly eating it, she wondered how Dave would react. The answer to that question really depended on his mood, which depended on whether he got laid the night before and how bad his hangover was.

In the other room, Lynn could hear him rising out of the chair. That eliminated a few of the options – such as ignoring her, yelling at her, or just asking again. There was absolutely no chance that he’d be going so far as to get his own beer, which led her to wonder what he was up to.

Dave wasn’t really that fat, but his posture and figure just, well, radiated a sense of bulk, of largeness. What was odd, though, was that a decent part of his weight was muscle. He was quite striking before Lynn’s mother died and he let himself go, not caring much about anything anymore.

Before she could even react, Lynn was shoved off the chair. Her head hit the ground hard, and her vision was spinning as she was kicked savagely. The mutter of his voice was like poison to her spirit. “Next time I ask you to do something for me, I expect you to do it, whore. Next time, it’ll be worse.”

**********

Refusing to believe what she had just experienced, Lynn brushed herself off. Still in a bit of shock, she grabbed her coat, slipped on her boots, and sauntered out the door. Once outside, the fear that had been building within her at the thought that perhaps Dave would make a comment as she left slowly dispersed. Then the realization of what just happened slammed into her.

Biting her lip to stop the string of profanities that wanted their chance to taint the air, Lynn took a deep breath. Without noticing the change, her steady step had slowed and she was standing stock still – and so she picked the pace up again, not all together sure of where she was headed.

Spotting a café just a few shops down, she slipped inside. After a glance over the menu, she wished she’d kept on walking. There was absolutely no alcohol here. With a reluctant sigh, she ordered a cappuccino and sat down at a table in the corner to mope.

Sipping it slowly, she was quite annoyed by the constant ringing of the bell as customers entered and left. After a while, it bugged her so much that she picked up her coffee and began to make her way to the door. A couple feet away from her destination, Lynn saw a pair of familiar faces enter the café, chatting and laughing and so into their conversation that they didn’t notice her.

Fists were clenched so tightly as she stormed down the sidewalk away from the shop, that blood had begun to well up where her long nails had pierced the skin. That couldn’t have been Terry. There was no way that Lynn just saw Terry. But there was no mistaking the pale blond hair and idiot grin of Bethany. And it sure did look a lot like him. He wouldn’t do that do her. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t possible.

No matter how far Lynn drove her mind in that direction, a little voice in her head kept popping up, unwanted. Stop fucking lying to yourself. Terry was at the café with Bethany.

**********

Back at home, long and elegant fingers run gently over the razor blade as Lynn wondered if she should play with it again tonight. Lately, though, she hadn’t been able to even smile. Not since the encounter of Terry and Bethany at the coffee shop.

Why was she responding so strongly? So they were talking. It didn’t mean anything. It was in Lynn’s nature to be possessive – suspicion was always the underlying emotion whenever she first judged a person. Who they were was of no importance. The question she asked, instead, was what they were trying to do to her.

Most of time Lynn didn’t exactly do anything about her opinions and feelings, no matter how strong they were. Oh, sure, there were a few exceptions. Like when she was with Terry, and sometimes when Dave made her really mad. Something in her, though, really wanted to fix this problem between Terry, Bethany and her. And as one might guess, her way of fixing problems usually sprouted a few more.

Then again, those new problems were completely unimportant and totally irrelevant. What mattered was that Lynn was happy and everything was all right in her life. Or at least as right as she thought it ever could be.

What to do, what to do? After a couple minutes of sitting there, the answer, which had been lurking in her mind for quite a while, sprung forwards and made itself apparent. It was brilliant, if not exactly original. It was sure to provide for quite a lot of amusement while the plan was carried out.

Whistling cheerfully, a smile seeming so out of place on that ghastly pale face, Lynn happily slipped the razor blade into her pocket.

**********

Fingers ran through blond hair, happy at the lack of knots. Smiling at herself in the mirror, Bethany couldn’t believe her great luck. Not only had Terry actually started hanging out with her, but he was also coming over! Tonight! Giggling softly to herself, she fingered her dress. The best part about it was that it was both soft and easy to slip out of, though she wondered if it betrayed her intentions too wildly.

**********

Now. How should she go about this? What she had deduced was Bethany’s bedroom was on the second story, so climbing in through it would prove to be a bit difficult. Taking the front door was always an option, but by the sounds Lynn picked up Bethany’s parents were having a party.

She silently cursed herself for not waiting until later to come. But at one o’clock she had decided she couldn’t linger any longer, and Lynn excitedly began the hunt.

The night was windy, and surprisingly warm for an autumn night. The moon was cradled by wisps that could, perhaps, pass off as clouds. All that was needed to complete this picturesque scene was an owl, hooting softly from a tree.

Trees… Bethany had a small backyard; a simple three trees. Glancing upwards, she looked over them. Maybe one of them would help her? The first was black and appeared dead, a few limp and moldy lemons dangling from broken branches. The next seemed to be easy to climb, but the longest stretching branch was a good ten feet from the house. Eyes moved to the third, hardly daring to hope that perhaps this one would lean towards the house.

It didn’t. Exasperated, pale hand brushed aside dangling bangs. Fingers then reached down to caress the blade in her pocket. That blade that had helped her to survive so long, and, hopefully, will help her even more tonight.

Walking around the side of the house, still searching for a way to Bethany’s room, she spotted a ladder on the side of her house. Blinking in surprise, she could barely believe her luck. The newly strung Christmas lights dangled at one end, as if someone was too lazy to finish putting them up after they started.

Grabbing onto the first rung, Lynn easily climbed up to the roof. Once there she was presented with the problem of having to find out where, exactly, was Bethany’s window. After a few minutes of scouting, she carefully lowered her feet over the edge of the roof.

Tense seconds passed by, but her feet did, eventually, get purchase. Grabbing tightly to the roof, she went as far down as she could. Inch by inch, she slowly made her way down the wall.

**********

The beam that had looked so horrible on her face when pocketing the razor looked worse now, if that was even possible. The window was simple to open, not even a latch. Planning ahead, Lynn wasn’t even wearing her shoes; boots were too loud and large for quiet movement. And she needed to be as silent as possible, tonight.

Once inside, it was easy to spot her target, the large lump on the bed that moved as Bethany breathed. It was very dark in the room, the only light coming from a crack beneath the bathroom door.

Before Lynn took a step closer, she was overcome by fury. Pulling the razor blade out of her pocket, she ran at the bed, not giving a shit about being quiet anymore. Stabbing the blade clasped tightly in her hand down at the figure, she didn’t stop until she was absolutely positive that her target was dead. Blood seeped through the sheets and began to soak the blanket from the numerous wounds the knife had probably inflicted on the now-dead body of her victim.

Grinning happily, she wiped the blade on her pants, and then slipped it back in her pocket. Deciding to survey the work, she pulled back the heavy blanket. Smile dropped off face and pale face grew even paler.

Shaky hand pulled the razor back out, and then ran it across her throat.

**********

Flushing the toilet, Bethany turned on the faucet and started washing her hands. She couldn’t believe it! Terry had actually followed up on his word, not that she ever doubted he wouldn’t, and he had even agreed to stay the night!

Most regretfully, though, he hadn’t caught on with what she really wanted him to do with her, but there was time for that later. Turning off the running water and wiping her hands on the dangling blue towel, she opened the door, and then screamed.

**********

This last time we encounter Bethany is in between padded walls. Perhaps she was going to end up this way, no matter what happened. Perhaps she would have led a normal life, had she not found both her crush and his girlfriend dead, on her bed.

Maybe this is all a dream concocted in the mind of the crazed, perhaps it is a fiction cooked up by a bored author. Or there’s always a chance it has happened, just a few blocks down from your own safe little residence. [May 2003] {c} Galina Tucker, 2004