Hillary_Flesh and Blood

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Hillary_Flesh and Blood Page 25

by Angel Gelique


  Outside of Caleigh’s room, the house was dark. Was Hillary home? Was she in her room? Was she asleep? Questions bombarded Kathy’s mind. It was hard for her to concentrate with all the noise in her head, between the ringing, the nagging queries and her instinct warning her to leave...begging her to run out of the house. This time, Kathy was going to follow her instincts. Ignoring it had come at a hefty price.

  She slowly crept toward the staircase. She paused at the top step, listening for any sign of Hillary. Aside from the maddening ringing, she heard nothing. She took a step down, then another, then another, clinging to the railing for support. She stopped at the last step and listened. There was no sign of Hillary lurking about. Kathy hated the darkness. She was greatly tempted to flick on the hall light but didn’t want to risk waking Hillary if she was asleep on the couch.

  Kathy inhaled deeply, quietly, as she took a step forward. She wasn’t too far from the front door. She could be out of the house in no time at all. Should she get her shoes? Her purse and keys were in the foyer. She could grab them on the way out. Her legs were becoming shaky again. She had to be strong. She had to be confident. She was so close now, so close....

  She walked forward on trembling, rubbery legs. Each step took a great deal of effort. She paused each time to listen, listen for the killer that she had given birth to in more ways than one. She was nearly past the living room, nearly to the foyer when she felt the impact on her leg. She screamed out in terror, jumping back, nearly falling. She placed her hand over her heart as Storm barked loudly. It was just the dog.

  “Shhh,” she whispered nervously, “It’s okay Storm, settle down.”

  She patted Storm’s head and began moving forward.

  The light in the living room went on sending faint beams of light throughout the hall. Kathy’s heart skipped a beat as she held her breath. She was trembling like a leaf. Like a deer caught in the headlights, she froze. When at last she had the sense to sprint the rest of the way to the foyer, Hillary was already within eyeshot and approaching fast.

  “Hi Mom,” she said icily.

  Kathy stopped and turned slowly to face her daughter. The words sounded distant and garbled, as if Hillary were under water. Kathy was barely able to make them out. What was unmistakably clear was Hillary’s cold, calculating glare. Kathy gasped. She knew she had lost her chance. She cursed herself for always making the wrong choices. She should have crept slowly to her room and called the police. At least then help would be on its way. Now she was alone. Alone and in grave danger.

  “What’re you doing, Mom?” Hillary asked, advancing toward her.

  “I...I can’t hear you so well,” Kathy stammered nervously, louder than she realized or intended.

  “Awww,” Hillary mocked, “do you have a boo boo?” She shouted the last part then laughed out loud.

  Hillary flicked on the light in the foyer. Seeing Hillary made Kathy shudder. She didn’t bother to clean herself up. Her clothing was covered in blood. It was smeared on her face like war paint. Streaks of blood highlighted her blonde hair. Dried blood was caked under her fingernails and around her mouth and chin.

  Hillary reached over and gave her mother a hug. Kathy let out a weak, long-winded mewling sound.

  “Were you going somewhere?” Hillary asked loudly.

  Kathy didn’t know what to say or what to do. Her heart pounded heavily within her chest.

  “I said, were you going somewhere?” Hillary repeated, shouting out the words slowly.

  Kathy shook her head nervously.

  “I didn’t think so,” Hillary replied, “the sun’s not even up yet and you’re not wearing shoes. Maybe you were just bored. Did you want to play a game?”

  Kathy shook her head again. Her terrified eyes were glistening with tears.

  “Let’s play, guess where your purse is? Guess where your keys are. Guess why the phone doesn’t work.”

  Hillary threw her head back and laughed scathingly. Then she stopped abruptly and looked intently at her trembling mother.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she warned sinisterly.

  Kathy’s head and eyes were down. She didn’t know what to do.

  “Understand me?” Hillary yelled ferociously, giving her mother a shove, “You’re not going anywhere!”

  Kathy nodded quickly. She understood completely.

  “Well, since we’re both up, why don’t you make us a nice breakfast?” Hillary said loudly into the bloodied hollow where her mother’s ear used to be.

  Kathy nodded, stepped forward nervously, paused a moment then continued to the kitchen. Hillary followed behind her. Her mother flicked on the light, walked toward the oven and froze. She squinted as she stared at the orb on her stovetop…the orb with the matted, singed blonde hair…the orb with the charred face. In addition to boiling Joshua’s head, Hillary had cooked it in the oven. It was cooked to a golden brown hue, his epidermis crispy and peeling like the thin rind of fruit.

  From where she stood, eight feet away, Kathy could smell it...smell him...smell her dead son’s decapitated, baked head. She opened her mouth to scream, but could not. She was too distraught. She fell to the floor, buried her head in her lap and sobbed heavily. She felt compelled to go to it, to tell it how sorry she was, but at the same time she was so repulsed by it. It was once part of her son, but Hillary had tarnished it, had damned it.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?” Hillary asked loudly.

  Kathy couldn’t erase the image of Joshua’s roasted head from her mind. She couldn’t take it any longer. She couldn’t endure another bit of the mental trauma. Rising to her feet, she faced Hillary.

  “You’re an animal!” she screamed, “you killed everyone I love. How can you live with yourself?”

  “How can you live with yourself? You might not admit it, but it’s your fault...your fault for not helping me.”

  “You’re going straight to hell, Hillary. You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done.”

  “How much worse can it be than the hell I’ve already been through?”

  “Innocent kids...they were just innocent kids,” Kathy cried woefully, thinking of her young, dead children.

  “I was innocent too...remember? REMEMBER?” Hillary shouted.

  “Oh, God Hillary, what have you done?” Kathy cried out. It was too much to deal with. She hadn’t even had a chance to accept that her children were gone—dead—brutally murdered by someone she loved and trusted. She hadn’t had a chance to grieve their loss. It was going to hit her hard. She knew that without heavy medication, she would never sleep again.

  On impulse, Kathy ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Hillary was right behind her, grabbing at her legs. Kathy kicked at Hillary trying to knock her off. She managed to kick her in the face, knocking her two steps back. Hillary cursed as she lunged forward, just missing Kathy’s foot. Kathy was in the hall, just outside her bedroom when Hillary caught up to her and grabbed her hair.

  “Leave me alone, Hillary,” Kathy cried, “let me go, just let me go....”

  “I said I wanted breakfast!” Hillary demanded, yanking her mother’s hair as she walked back toward the stairs. Kathy followed her to alleviate the pain.

  “Okay,” Kathy cried, “I’ll make breakfast…I’m sorry...please stop pulling my hair.”

  Hillary released Kathy who surprised her by running past her toward the stairs. It was Kathy’s last attempt at freedom. She failed miserably. She was no match for Hillary’s youth and speed. Hillary was on her within seconds, slamming forcefully into her mother.

  Hillary herself wasn’t entirely sure if it was intentional, but she sent her mother tumbling down the stairs. With a sharp outcry of pain, Kathy landed at the bottom of the steps. She moaned loudly as she attempted to sit up. She was certain that her left leg was broken. She could already feel it swelling. Likewise, her left forearm was fractured.

  “That’s good for you. That’s what you get for being such a liar,” Hillary shouted as she slowly
descended the stairs.

  Kathy tried to creep away. She knew it was foolish. It would likely infuriate Hillary even more, but she was desperate to get away. It proved to be an absolute waste of time and exercise in frustration. Hillary hovered over her menacingly, blocking her way. She grinned madly then walked away. She was back moments later with a baseball bat.

  Kathy could almost feel the pain before the impact of the bat broke her right leg, at her shin. It was an intense, excruciating pain that ran up her leg like a streak of lightning. Hillary continued to slam the bat into her mother’s leg several times more until she could see the tibia bone jut through her skin. It was a nasty comminuted fracture, the bone splintering into multiple fragments.

  Kathy wailed and groaned in pain. Her legs were broken. Hillary had made sure that she wouldn’t try to run again. But she wasn’t done yet. Kathy could see the hatred and conviction in her eyes. She saw Hillary lift the bat high and bite her lower lip as she swung it fiercely at side of her mother’s head. Then Kathy saw nothing at all.

  When she awoke hours later, Hillary was once again nowhere in sight. The house was quiet, but this time bright. Kathy was sore all over. Her head hurt too badly to lift it off the floor. The ringing in her ear seemed magnified. She closed her eyes and drifted back into oblivion.

  Hillary had taken a long nap in her bed to make up for all the hours of sleep she had lost napping on the couch. She awoke just after one in the afternoon feeling refreshed and invigorated. But as she stepped out of bed, a wave of nausea so intense hit her so suddenly that she barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up the foul-tasting bile from her stomach. Hillary was convinced now. There was no other explanation for all of her prolonged symptoms. She was pregnant.

  Enraged by the thought of her father’s maggot within her uterus, Hillary considered giving herself an abortion. She even went as far as to untwist and straighten a wire clothing hanger. She had read about that somewhere, how abortions had been done illegally with hangers. She knew how well those often turned out. She was too afraid that she would do more harm than good. She would have to find another way to rid her body of its unwelcome intruder.

  For now, she had other plans to work on. She chose a nice pastel outfit to wear, grabbed her dirty robe and walked to the bathroom. Hillary disrobed and stared at her naked abdomen in the bathroom mirror. It didn’t look any different. It was still firm and flat, though her breasts did look fuller and were definitely sore. With a labored sigh, she stepped into the shower. The warm water felt good on her skin. She lathered up, washing the blood off. Soon, she’d be transformed from Hillary the murderous monster to Hillary the all-American sweetheart. She’d look sweet and innocent in her pretty spring wardrobe. Until she was done visiting Jax....

  Hillary was careful to avoid the pools of blood throughout the house as she made her way to the foyer. Jax would be home by the time she drove to her house. She lived about ten minutes away. Hillary felt confident that she could make it to her house and back without drawing attention to herself. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over. She would drive slowly and carefully and everything would go as planned.

  Hillary grabbed her mother’s car keys then zipped open her purse. She pulled out her wallet and searched within it for cash. Her mother had forty-six dollars which she grabbed and stuffed into her pocket. She exited the house quietly and jogged anxiously to her mother’s car. It was a big sport utility vehicle, much larger than her father’s small passenger car. Hillary had never driven it before. She unlocked it and nervously sat behind the steering wheel. She felt so small within the large leather seat. She adjusted the mirrors and started the ignition.

  Taking a deep breath, Hillary backed out of the driveway, screeching to an abrupt stop before hitting the mailbox. Her heart raced. Could she really pull this off? Would she be able to drive this big car all the way to Jax’s house? She thought about it for a few seconds before pulling out onto the long, winding road. She didn’t have any other choice.

  The drive to Jax’s house was uneventful. Hillary pulled into the empty driveway and exhaled deeply. It felt as if she had been holding her breath the entire ride there. It took only twelve minutes, but the tense journey seemed to take hours. Hillary exited the car, walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

  “Hillary, you’re here!” Jax said excitedly when she opened the door, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “I told you I would,” Hillary replied.

  “Come in. Uh, where’s your mom?”

  “I came alone.”

  “What? You drove here? Alone? Get outta here, no way!”

  Hillary entered Jax’s home and Jax closed the door behind her.

  “That’s soooo cool! I didn’t know you had your license. Wait, but you’re—”

  “God, Jax, take a breath,” Hillary complained.

  “But you’re two months younger than me,” Jax continued, “how do you have your license?”

  “Advanced driving classes,” Hillary lied. She knew she could feed Jax a heaping spoonful of lies and misinformation and Jax would eat it up greedily and ask for more.

  “Oh my God,” Jax said animatedly, “you’re sooooo lucky!”

  “I think you need to cut back on the coffee.”

  Jax laughed out loud as she twirled a strand of her long blonde hair.

  “Shit,” she said, losing some of her exhilaration, “this would have been the best time to hang out at the mall, but I can’t...I have to babysit the twins...they’re sick.”

  “Darn,” Hillary said, being purposefully facetious.

  “I miss you, Hill, are you normal again?”

  Hillary had to laugh out loud. Normal? Not quite.

  “Nope, I’m a horrible murderer now.”

  Jax laughed, slapping Hillary’s shoulder lightly.

  “Oh, Hill, we need to start hanging out again. I told Maddie you’d come back from your mental vacation.”

  “Is that where I was?” Hillary asked, amused. “Maddie Woodmere? Why are you talking to her anyway?”

  “Well...we sorta kind’ve been hanging out now. She’s not that bad, Hillary, you’d like her....”

  “Maddie’s a stuck-up, pretentious, know-it-all rich bitch and I will never like her,” Hillary snapped.

  “Don’t be mad, Hill, I guess I just wanted someone popular to hang with while you were—”

  “On my mental vacation, yeah, I get it.”

  “I guess you’re kinda right about Maddie...she did say some pretty harsh things about you to people. Laura too. You know how they are.”

  Hillary narrowed her eyes angrily.

  “What things?” she asked irately.

  “It doesn’t matter, I—”

  “Just tell me!” Hillary shouted furiously.

  “All right!” Jax said with a huff, throwing up her arms, “calm down. She said you were a flake...a fruitcake...a basket case...you know, all those things you call crazy people. I defended you, Hill, really...I told her it was just temporary.”

  “That cunt! I’ll gut her alive!” Hillary said, seething with rage. She would make Maddie Woodmere pay. And Laura too.

  Jax laughed, breaking the tension.

  “You’re so funny,” she said, “I forgot you were a horrible murderer.”

  “You know, maybe I will get to know Maddie better. Why don’t we have a picnic in the woods together tomorrow after school?”

  “That would be so cool!” Jax replied excitedly.

  “Give her a call.”

  “We’ll see her in school tomorrow.”

  “C’mon, call her. I don’t want her to make other plans.”

  “Fine. When did you become so bossy?”

  “Persistent,” Hillary corrected her, with a thin smile, “the word is persistent.”

  Jax pulled out her cell phone and called Maddie. From what Hillary could hear Maddie wasn’t too keen on the idea of picnicking with Hillary.

  “Just be there, please, for
me?” Jax pleaded, then after a short pause, added, “great! It’s going to be so much fun!”

  “Killer fun!” Hillary chimed in jokingly, at least as far as Jax knew.

  “That was such a great idea,” Jax said, giving Hillary a quick, fond hug. Hillary sneered behind her back, forcing herself to return Jax’s embrace.

  “How long can you stay, I’ve got so much to tell you!”

  “Does your dad still work late?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And what time is your mom getting home?”

  “She had to switch shifts because of the snotty-nosed twins so not until the morning, why? What d’ya have in mind?”

  “Oh, my dad wanted to know if you have some duct tape he could borrow.”

  “Duct tape?”

  “That silver tape that—”

  “I know what duct tape is, Hill...yeah, I think we have some...somewhere.”

  “Can you get it for me?”

  “What, now?”

  “Otherwise I’ll totally forget and my dad will bitch and cry all night.”

  “All right, I’ll go look for it. You can go up to my room, your backpack’s by my desk.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Jax’s house used to be Hillary’s home away from home. Jax used to be Hillary’s most trusted friend. Early on when her father began abusing her, Hillary had come close to confiding in Jax. Yet, she knew Jax well enough to know that Jax would have told her mother and her mother would have stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. She would have contacted the police or a social worker or someone who would have screwed things up even more.

  That was then and Hillary was no longer the weak, stupid, pathetic victim she used to be. She was the strong one now and she had no time or patience for fools like Jax who had no clue about life. Sure, Jax was acting sweet and nice now, but Hillary remembered the things she had said to and about her once her life started spiraling out of control and she began withdrawing. Hillary would make her regret it. She would pay for her insolence

  Before walking up to Jax’s room, Hillary quietly strolled to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife that she could find. She could hear Jax fumbling with things in the hall, most likely in the utility closet. She hid the knife in front of her and slowly ascended the spiral staircase up to Jax’s bedroom.

 

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