Snowstorm

OK, so I'm writing a new short story. It's supposed to get into the mind of a psychotic woman. And it's about murder (first time I've ever tried this topic out). So yes, what my cousin told me before I started to post this is true: it comes off as creepy. But if you find it disturbing, I encourage you not to read. I refrain from swearing so cursing/obscenity will not appear whatsoever. I personally don't see it as that creepy as, obviously, I'm the one who came up with it. I think my cousin exaggerated but to each his (really it's a her) own. Anyway, I hope you like it. Leave a comment (or check off the thumbs down or weird reaction if you like) if it does come off as creepy because my cousin is the only one I allowed to hear it. Here it is. (There is a background on the woman so there will be little confusion. It's a really short story so I didn't go into depth with her character; it's just a briefing.)

Background: Charity Ball has always had an illness, she’s inflicted with a personality disorder. A personality disorder cannot be cured. When she was little she used to kill her pets (and other animals), boil their blood over the stove, and proceed to drink it out of a cup. Her parents tried to get her help but it was all in vain. The doctors couldn’t “fix” her. Under the care of a special program, she was released in her 20s as they helped her assume a new identity. Before she was Charity Bell, she was Kylie Lawrence. For a while, she seemed perfectly healthy and was no longer under watch. She eventually met Guy Jones in which they married and produced a child, Kent Cyrus Jones aka K.C. Jones. Meanwhile her mental state slips little by little and her family soon fades to black.

It was really cold that night; I can remember the ice pellets of the brisk snowstorm clapping against the window glass. I had been in another argument with my husband and I was sitting up in bed… gazing at the reflection off the window. I saw myself, tearstained and tired. I’ve had enough, I wanted to die that night. But something rather… peculiar… kept me from offing myself apparently. I had this urge to get up from bed but I just sat there, looking through the glass. But then, as I recall, I saw the oddest of birds perch right there on the window sill: a hawk! Yes, a hawk in the middle of blizzard! I remember thinking how bizarre, but it pulled me closer to the window. Just there staring up at me as I slowly paced my fragile legs over there. I thought, such a beautiful creature it was. Especially in the middle of this weather. As I neared, I stroked its very image and it almost felt as if I could feel its own magnificent feathers. Time felt like it lasted a few hours longer in those two minutes. As I goggled the hawk’s brown, it proceeded to make this loud and unbearable squawk that seemed to make my ears bleed. I felt this unbelievable anger towards it as I brought my hands to my ears. It wouldn’t shut up, it wouldn’t shut up! I fell to the floor and banged on the window, “SHUT UP!! SHUT… UP…!”

“What’re you doing?”

I swiftly turned around and there was my husband Guy, standing above me. Our 2-year old sliding ever so helplessly over his father’s manly hip. Their eyes on me, I looked back and said in a loud voice as if the hawk was still screaming, “There…! There, the hawk was there. And it was screeching. And, and…”

“Hawk? There is no hawk… You did leave the window open, though. It’s freezing in here.” He let our son down. I smiled softly at him but he clung to his father’s pants’ leg. “Can you close it, please?” I didn’t get up and didn’t even answer, my hands still over my ears but loosely. Guy sighed and walked over to the window. Before he went to close it, he asked an awkward question, “Is… is that blood?” He turned around at me, pointing at the some thick liquid dripping down the edge of the window. “Did you hurt yourself? I don’t see any cuts. Are you ok?”

“Y-yeah, uh huh. I’m fine, Guy,” I shook my hands. “They’re okay, nothing to worry about.” I got up and closed the window. Looking back at him, I repeated sternly, “I’m fine…”

As if in defense, Guy put his hands up, “Ok, ok, just asking.” I could feel his eyes burn through me as I returned to bed. He took K.C. back on his hip, “Dinner’s almost ready, something new… Speaking of hawk earlier, do you eat it…?”

So this part isn't the end. There is another part that comes with this. That will come in my next post. I swear it will be longer than this.. So wait till then. See you next time ;-)