1 Chapter One

Rifling in her drawers, mumbling in a different language. She shifts and stumbles around, slamming into walls, struggling to load the gun she was holding, yelling at her sibling to get behind her, a loud, accented voice booming down the hall. She turns off the safety of the weapon, pointing it at the door. She was bruised up and somehow still standing. Her breathing was heavy and short. The door crashed open, gunshots going off, blood splattering the wall and her, sobbing. She didn't bother to think about her soulmate or her own hearing, just shooting and keeps going, making sure he was dead. "Он мертв." (He's dead.) She said finally, collapsing in tears.

There was loud ringing in her ears, dropping the gun and covering her ears with blood-stained hands. Her brother ran out of the corner and into her pale, fragile, arms. "Мы свободны." (We're free.) His voice was barely audible over the ringing, clutching her brother close to her, scared for their own lives.

" Иди убирайся, хорошо? Помыться в ванне, и я позабочусь о нем." (Go get cleaned up, okay? To run a bath and i'll take care of him. ) Her voice was soft and accented as well, watching him run off.

She was in a heavy state of shock, dragging the body out into a pre-dug hole in the ground, barely able to hear. She buries him halfway, leaving around 6 feet between the body, putting a dead animal on top, so if the police would see the animal and assume that it had been buried by another animal. She tossed the gun in as well, spending the next 20 minutes or so covering the She creature as well, pouring some vodka on it as a final ritual, tossing the bottle in the trash. It was just her and her brother now, the young 16 year old might add. She had lost her mother years ago to a virus, and was left with her father, a drunk who couldn't control himself. She stumbled into the kitchen, tired and dizzy, her hands covered in dirt in blood, barely able to get that metallic smell out of her nose, and started to scrub her hands with dish soap and rubbing alcohol. She could barely hear the water running in front of her, all the while mumbling, "Мне нужно выйти, мне нужно выйти." (I need out, I need out). She pulls off her blood-stained uniform and tosses it into the washer after treating it with rubbing alcohol and stain cleaner.

Luckily the floors in her home were hardfloor, so she took a mop and some bleach before starting to scrub it, opening the windows, barely hearing anything. Her brother was in the tub, cleaning himself off, also in shock. He had saw what had happened with their father and knew not to say anything until they were safe.

She cleaned up her bedroom, tossing the sheets into a basket to be washed along with her pillowcases. She sprays spot cleaner on the bed as well, leaving her room to go take care for her younger, much younger brother, getting him fresh clothes and some towels. The ringing eventually died down enough for her to finally hear the water running in the shower, sighing, speaking clearly this time, "Если вы это слышите ... Мне очень жаль." (If your hearing this, I'm so sorry.) She slumps down into her parents room, gathering a trashbag with his clothes and other items, dragging it out into the yard as well, headed for the garage, looking for lighter fluid for the grill, finding it, along with coal and lighter, dragging it out as well. She was walking around in a tank top and shorts despite the below freezing temperatures, shivering hard.

She throws open the grill and pours some coal into it, also pouring lighter fluid as well. She picks up a stray stick and turns on the lighter on, watching it as it catches fire, all the while mumbling, "Проклятие человека прошло, наконец, я могу уйти .." (The curse of the man is gone, finally, I can leave..). Her hands fumble in the bag, tossing clothes in one by one, laughing maniacally. Her eyes wander around the yard, staring down a tree, breathing heavy, finally switching to english. "Just waiting for an acceptance letter from the academy.."

Lets describe her more, now, shall we? The young woman stood at 165.1 cm, her pure white hair flopping side to side with each movement. Her eyes were a startling clear blue against her fragile, porcelain skin. She was littered in bruises, dirt, and ash, with many open wounds and scars. She kept her hair in a loose ponytail, swinging around her back, some sticking to the blood pouring out, staining her back.

Your still reading? Why?

Well, its kind of rude to read a dead-woman's diary, but I guess I can't stop you now huh? Oh well. My name is Keo and I was 19 when I died. Here's what happened leading up to my death, starting after that quite graphic murder scene.

I was walking home that day from my high school, actually having a good day, which was rare. My little brother, skipping along right beside me. He wasn't much older then 10, too young to witness what was bound to happen to our drunk-ass of a father. My mom had died years ago, due to birth complications, with him just barely making it. After Mom died..everything went downhill. Dad started drinking behind the coal plant with his friends and coming home drunk and angry, destroying what I had cleaned and prepared. So, I was just praying that that wasn't going to happen again.

I open the door to our house with the old key, sneezing from the cold, ushering him inside and turning on the heat, unbundling him before I did so to myself, listening carefully as he tells me about his day, checking the mail on the table for that letter that was supposed to be days ago. I had applied to a academy. Honestly, I thought I would get in easy, despite the fact my highest grade is a B+, and had a 3.5 GPA. I was multilingual and got along with people very easy, seeming to be friends with a lot of people.

Anyway,

How do I describe what I do around the house? Hm..I'll just tell you, in detail about the house first. It was a fairly large cottage with all new insulation and electrical wiring, done by yours truly. Now, what do I do?

Basic household chores, like, sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, dishes. Honestly, I hate dishes, especially after meals?! The squishy food at the bottom?! EW. Not my cup of tea.

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