Feli at home

Feli looked up at what was once her home through her car window. She shifted the knife to her other hand, climbed out of the car, and made her way toward the porch. Feli climbed the stairs, pressed the buzzer, and hid the knife behind her.

The door opened, and Feli smiled.

This should be fun. Her father stared at her in surprise.

"Feli? What…what are you doing here?""

Feli smiled wider, her hand tightening on the knife. "I came to visit, or do you want me to go?"

Her father blinked, his eyes searching hers. "Ah, okay. Come inside, the sun is burning today."

Feli eyes started twinkling as she walked in, and closed the door behind her. She followed her father to the dining room. Where he was standing with his back to her. He was trying to get a big bottle out of the fridge.

Her father took out the bottle and a small ceramic cup. Feli's smile almost faltered. He has bought another cup.

Her father placed the cup of cold water in front of her, and took a sit in one of the chairs, the blue one. Feli took a sit opposite him, on the orange one.

Feli removed the knife from her back and placed it on the table.

Her father's eye widened a bit. Feli smiled at him.

"I bought it from the market on my way here, I thought you might need it."

"For what, I have my own knife."

Feli tilted her head to the side, "Is it the blunt knife you say you have, or have you bought another one?"

Her father hesitated, "I bought another one."

Feli stare at him, her smile twitching. He didn't buy another knife when me and my sister were telling him to. He didn't buy another knife when our fingers almost fell of cutting potatoes. He didn't buy another knife then, but he bought it now for himself, selfish man.

Feli struggled to contain her thought. She took a deep breath, counted to one from ten, and let it out in a sigh. Feli took the cup and studied the designs around it.

"Aren't you going to drink?"

"I'm not thirsty."

"But you've been in the sun since morning."

"No."

Her father paused. "Why are you here Feli?"

Feli looked around the house, and ignored him.

"Feli, I'm talking you. Why did you come here?"

Feli spared him a glance and saw that he was beginning to get angry. Her smile widened again. Yes, be angry.

Feli stood up, and wandered into the sitting room. Which was full of cushion chairs. The glass and iron table where still in their spots. She walked up to the shelf table - still holding up the tv - and swiped a finger across it. It was clean, albeit a little dusty.

A chair scraped the tile, as her father stood up and made his way into the sitting room. Feli turned around.

"Feli…" Her father said in a warning voice.

Feli grinned at him. Ohh, someone's feathers were getting ruffled.

Feli walked toward him and stopped a few feet away. "The house is nice, daddy. And clean."

Her father paused, and stared at her. Feli stared back.

Feli took two step forward, and stopped. "I want to pass. I'm thirsty, I want to drink my water now."

Her father stepped back for her, and she walked into the dining room again. Feli picked up her knife instead. She should make it quick. But does he deserve a quick death or a slow one.

He's lived long enough. Quick death it is. Her father stepped towards her, and stood next to his blue chair.

Feli kept the knife at her side. I should do it now, he's close enough. Feli remembered what her sister had told her; killing him won't solve anything, just leave him there, he'll rot in that house.

But she was wrong, he wasn't rotting. He was healthy, and he was living the life.

Feli almost laughed then. The situation was a little bit funny.

"What do you want Feli, I have things to do."

Feli stared at his face. You have things to do uh? Well daddy, I also have things to do.

Feli moved before he took notice of the knife. She jumped toward him, and he - stupidly - raised a hand to help her. But she didn't need his help.

And in that second, where Feli's knife was an inch from his chest. And his hands were out, almost like an embrace. Feli was happy. And when the knife sinked in, and Feli smiled, it was real this time.

Her father staggered back, dragging Feli with him. He fell backwards - against the floor - his head smacking the tiles with a dull thud. She twisted the knife as hard as she could, and he let out a wheeze. Blood gurgled from his mouth. His eyes were wide, frantic. His hands wouldn't stop twitching. Blood was leaking out of his chest.

Feli climbed off him, leaving the knife where it was. Feli stared at him for a second, her hands shaking. She had done it. He should bleed out, his blood should stain his dining room and his orange-blue chairs.

Feli crouched next to him, wrapping her hands around the knife. She twisted it one last time, then she slowly, painfully pulled the knife out.

Her father coughed, and Feli closed her eyes as blood sprayed her face and neck.

Feli stood up with the knife in her hands, and looked down at her father. The blood was beginning to stain the tiles, soon it would spread. Feli took the dripping knife to the kitchen, and washed it in the sink. His sink.

She then placed it where the other knew knives were. It fit perfectly.

Feli tiptoed around the blood and headed to his room. She found the bathroom and washed the blood from her neck and face.

Feli sighed, it was done. And she couldn't take it back. Feli went back into the sitting room and walked through the front door. She entered her car, and sat there for a while. Letting it wash over her. Feli smiled again. He was dead.

He deserved to die, for all the things he'd done. For the way he'd treated her and her siblings. Especially for the way he'd treated the most important person in their lives. Yes, he deserved it.

Feli placed her hand on the steering wheel and began to drive. Her stomach growled. She should stop by Chicken Republic to eat. Feli's smile broadened. She would eat chicken!