Hillary_Flesh and Blood

by Angel Gelique

  Thinking about the smell, she began to worry that her mother might enter her room and the putrid smell of newly decaying flesh would lead her straight to the body parts in her closet. She lifted her head up quickly. Panicked, she sat there with her lips parted, staring off at the books on the shelf across the room as she wondered what she should do. She wanted to go home but didn’t feel like walking the eleven long miles to get there.

  Hillary calmed down a bit when she remembered that her mother would be at the library until six-thirty that evening. Yet, she wouldn’t have to leave the house until ten after nine and it was only seven forty-one now. Hillary sighed heavily and dropped her head back down upon the table. It was going to be a very, very long day.

  As expected, the day dragged on. Hillary spent the day feeling paranoid, looking over her shoulders and expecting police officers to enter her classroom and take her off to prison. A few times she could have sworn that she heard her father’s voice. She first heard him just before her lunch period as she was walking toward her locker.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” she heard him say.

  Startled, she turned abruptly to see who was talking to her, but no one was within her close proximity. The closest kids were at least ten feet away from her, a group of girls huddled near the water fountain. Further down from her in the other direction, a young guy was walking toward her. There was no possible way it could have been him. Who would he be talking to anyway?

  Later on during her biology class during Mrs. Donovan’s incessant jabbering about the properties of blood, Hillary heard her father say “like my blood did” clear as a bell.

  Without thinking she said “what?” out loud.

  “I said that blood can begin to congeal in just seconds,” Mrs. Donovan repeated loudly.

  Hillary looked in her direction but past her. Who was in her head speaking to her? Was it the voice of reason? Why did it sound like her father now? She didn’t want to hear his voice. She wanted nothing more than to forget he ever existed.

  “Hillary?” Mrs. Donovan called to her, breaking her trance.

  “What? What?” she replied, as if being awakened from a deep sleep.

  “Do you have an answer for me?”

  “I didn’t hear the question.”

  “The small components in blood that aids with clotting....”

  “Uh...platelets,” she answered.

  “Very good,” Mrs. Donovan exclaimed in her high-pitched, whiny voice, “I thought you were zoning out on me.”

  Hillary managed a thin smile. After today she wouldn’t have to deal with Mrs. Donovan or any other teacher. After today Hillary would think of a way to get rid of those smelly bags in her closet. After today, Hillary would look for a job so that she could support her family. After today, Hillary’s new life would begin.

  “I’ll see you in hell,” her father’s voice mocked her, erasing all trace of the smile. Hillary looked to her left then her right. Was someone playing a joke on her? Impossible...nobody knew what she had done. Unless her mother had found the body parts....

  “I have to go to the nurse,” Hillary said, jumping up out of her seat and fleeing the room before Mrs. Donovan could even respond. She left her books and backpack at her seat.

  Instead of going to the nurse’s office, Hillary raced back to the school library where she spent the remainder of the school day. The librarian gave her various looks of disapproval and disgust but did not bother her or ask her to leave. When it was finally time to go home, she boarded the school bus with her sister, who ignored her completely. She closed her eyes until the bus stopped in front of her driveway nearly twenty minutes later.

  She was off the bus at lightning speed, pushing past her sister and sprinting to the house. Her mother’s car was not in the driveway which was a good sign. She threw open the front door and bounded upstairs, ascending the steps two at a time. She ran to her room and flung the door wide open. Her face involuntarily contorted from the smell which had grown even stronger. She heard the door slam and her sister shouting something from downstairs. Was she complaining about the smell?

  Hillary slowly walked back down toward her sister.

  “What did you say?” she snapped nastily.

  “I said thanks for waiting for me,” Caleigh snapped back.

  “Since when do we walk together anyway? Like you even acknowledge me anymore.”

  “What do you expect? You’re a freak now!”

  “You’re the freak...you’re dressed in shorts and a tank top and it’s barely sixty degrees out. I guess you’re a whore now.”

  “You’re the whore from what I hear,” Caleigh retorted angrily.

  “Really? And what did you hear?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me!” Hillary shouted.

  “Nothing, get out of my way,” Caleigh replied, trying to push past Hillary.

  “I’m not a whore!” Hillary yelled as she turned and jogged back to her room. Caleigh walked slowly up the stairs behind her.

  In the hall as Hillary swung open her door, Caleigh began gagging from where she stood on the last step on the stairs.

  “God, what’s that smell?” she asked as she coughed and plugged her nose. She made a sound as if she were going to puke right there on the floor, but nothing came up.

  “Nothing,” Hillary replied nervously, quickly entering her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She lingered behind the door for a full minute to make sure that Caleigh didn’t get nosy and barge in.

  When she seemed certain that Caleigh had moved on to her own room, Hillary hurried over to her closet. She paused at the closet door. The stench had become an entity, a monster attacking her nostrils. Like Caleigh, she heaved, covering her mouth with her hand, but nothing came up. Covering her nose with her forearm, she threw open her closet door and took a step back. The overwhelming smell made her stomach churn. Leaving the closet door open, she ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  Without taking the time to brush her teeth, Hillary ran back to her room to find Caleigh rummaging through the garbage bags. Before she could call out for her to stop, Caleigh screamed. She turned to run and stopped when she noticed Hillary at the doorway.

  Tears streaking from her horrified eyes, Caleigh stood frozen in place.

  “What are you doing here?” Hillary shouted, panicked.

  Caleigh’s mouth opened as if she was going to speak but she couldn’t utter a sound. She stood there trembling, panting heavily. It was obvious that she had seen the body parts in the bag. Judging from the blood on her right hand, she had even touched them.

  “Why couldn’t you just mind your business?” Hillary yelled, advancing quickly toward her sister.

  Caleigh shrieked, backing up slowly...one step...two...then three before her heels made contact with a smelly, dripping bag. Disgusted, she lunged forward toward Hillary, attempting to run past her. Hillary grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her back. Caleigh stumbled back but did not fall. She stood still, between Hillary and the body in the bags, crying hysterically.

  “Please,” she begged, “I don’t care what you did....”

  She sniffled and fought to catch her breath.

  “What did I do?” Hillary asked. She stared blankly into Caleigh’s terrified eyes.

  “You...you...you,” her voice cracked. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

  “I what?” Hillary persisted, eerily calm yet intimidating at the same time.

  “You...you....”

  “Spit it out!” Hillary demanded angrily, “what did I do?”

  “You killed someone,” Caleigh uttered apprehensively.

  She knows, Hillary heard the voice say.

  “Who? Who did I kill?” she yelled.

  “I...I don’t know....” Caleigh cried even harder.

  “Maybe I’ll show you,” Hillary said tersely.

  A smile formed on her face as she took a step toward her trembling, hysterical sister. Caleigh shook her head wildl
y as she slowly inched back.

  “Yes,” Hillary said playfully, “I think you should see him...say goodbye to him.”

  Caleigh was nearly hyperventilating. Her legs felt like putty holding up a monumentally large boulder. She knew she could not outrun Hillary. She knew that Hillary would show her the body and that there was nothing she could do about it. She knew that Hillary had snapped, had gone crazy. But would she kill her own sister? Overwhelmed by anxiety, she fell to her knees. Her head continued shaking. She could barely focus on Hillary through her wet, puffy eyes.

  “Yes, yes Caleigh...you need to say goodbye to him...”

  Say goodbye to whom? Caleigh wondered nervously.

  “Are you going to stay put or try to run away?” Hillary asked sternly.

  Caleigh felt nauseous. She stopped shaking her head and stared vacantly at Hillary.

  “Don’t even think of running...or I’ll kill you next,” Hillary threatened without thinking. Even as she spoke the words she was overcome with doubt. She couldn’t kill her sister...no way. She chased away the unpleasant thought and ran past Caleigh toward the closet, looking back when she got there to make sure that Caleigh stayed put. She couldn’t remember which bag she placed her father’s head in. She began digging through the bag Caleigh had torn open. Her arms were deep within the bag, blood soaking through the sleeves of her jacket. She could feel flesh and bones, but no head.

  Hillary glanced back to make sure that Caleigh was still cooperating. She was still on her knees in the same place where Hillary had left her, her head slumped down. She was whimpering quietly. Hillary turned to face the garbage bag to her left and tore it open quickly. New rancid odors wafted up her nostrils causing her to wince and gag. Still, she buried her hands within the opening and searched for her father’s head. Finding it relatively quickly, she smiled and pulled it out of the bag with both hands. It was wet and heavy.

  Hillary rotated it carefully within her hands so that he faced her. His eye lids were half closed and his eyes nearly fully rolled up within them. His skin had stiffened and turned a sickly grey color, aside from the streaks and smears of blood that covered it. His once dark blonde hair was now matted with blood and looked mostly burgundy. Dark black blood was pooled and thickened at the base of his neck where Hillary had cut and sawed through the vertebrae in his spinal column.

  Even though the heavy head within her hands scarcely resembled her father, Hillary stared at it loathingly. She fought the urge to launch it across the room. Instead, she carried it slowly to her sister. Caleigh sobbed harder as she heard Hillary approaching. Her head was still down and her eyes were tightly shut.

  “Look who’s here,” Hillary said bitterly, walking around Caleigh and kneeling down in front of her. She positioned the head to face her weeping sister.

  “Open your eyes, Caleigh,” Hillary demanded.

  Caleigh refused. She kept her eyes closed and her head lowered.

  “You have to say goodbye to him,” Hillary explained, “It’s the last time you’ll see him.”

  Who? Who is it? Caleigh wondered as she remained as still as her quivering body permitted.

  “Don’t make me force you, Caleigh, open your eyes and look at him!” Hillary shouted, growing angry.

  Caleigh kept her head lowered but began shaking it again. She didn’t want to see who it was. She didn’t want to see a dead body. Little did she know that it was a severed head within Hillary’s hands…her father’s head.

  “Last chance...if you don’t listen to me, I’ll have to kill you too.”

  Caleigh’s eyes flew open as a chill ran down her spine. Her head was still lowered but she slowly lifted it to face Hillary. When she saw the dead head within Hillary’s hand, she screamed out loud. She hadn’t yet realized who it was. The grey-tinged face was bruised and bloated. In shock, Caleigh stared at it for some time.

  Within mere seconds, Hillary could see the realization on Caleigh’s horrified, contorted face. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open. She was trying to say something, struggling to get the words out of her mouth, but Hillary could only hear a raspy crackling sound.

  “You know who it is, don’t you?” she asked blatantly.

  Caleigh’s head nodded slowly, her trembling lips desperately trying to form the words. Finally, finding her voice, she yelled, “Daaaaddddyyyy....”

  “Yep, it’s Dad. He’s dead.”

  Caleigh screamed even louder as her body shook violently. Hillary watched as her eyes rolled up and her body crumpled to the floor.

  What do I do now? Hillary wondered, staring at her sister’s unconscious body.

  Get some rope, the voice advised, tie her up or she’ll call the cops....

  “But—”

  Tie her up before she wakes up...you have to get rid of her too....

  ~6~

  The voice of reason had spoken and Hillary had to obey its command. She owed it her life. It had given her the courage to get rid of her abusive father once and for all. It was her friend, her ally. When everyone else had turned against her, even her own mother, the voice of reason was there for her. She had no reason to doubt it, to defy it, even though most of the things it urged her to do seemed so extreme and repulsive.

  She didn’t hesitate when it told her to clip off her father’s disgusting penis. He deserved it and Hillary was happy to comply. Yet Hillary was disinclined to hurt her sister. Sure, Caleigh irritated her...a lot. But she hadn’t done anything to deserve death.

  Hillary couldn’t bring herself to obey the voice at first. She questioned its judgment.

  “She didn’t do anything,” Hillary argued out loud.

  She knows what you did...she’ll tell....

  “No, she’ll keep quiet.”

  You’ll go to jail....

  “I’ll explain what happened, I’ll tell her everything. She’ll understand.”

  Like your mother understood?

  “I think she suspects...I think she....”

  She won’t listen...no one will...she’ll turn against you...you saw how she acted....

  The voice was right and Hillary knew it. No one would side with her and protect her. Her sister would offer no more sympathy or compassion than her mother did. She was entirely alone. Except for the voice, her savior. Hillary would have to dutifully obey its every directive no matter how hard it was.

  Without another moment’s hesitation, Hillary had left her room in search of some rope. She returned in record time to find that Caleigh was just starting to stir. She quickly went to work tying her hands together, then her feet. Caleigh was alert by the time she was done.

  “Hillary...” she begged tearfully, “please let me go...please don’t hurt me.”

  Caleigh’s mournful pleas tugged at the last remaining shreds of humanity left within Hillary’s conscience. But as quickly as she felt the pangs of remorse, they had dissipated. At once she was full of anger, a rage that overcame her so violently she made a low, deep throaty sound, almost like the growl of a wild animal. She barely recognized it as her own. It was as if the voice had taken over and now it was controlling her body as well as her mind. The Hillary she once was would go to sleep, would grow weaker and die. The voice, this being with whom Hillary had found and befriended would now take her place for good.

  Caleigh stopped pleading and cried silently. She was more afraid than she had ever been in her life. She knew her sister was crazy, she looked insane and sounded even worse. Caleigh expected her to attack at any second.

  Let’s have some fun....

  “Let’s have some fun...” Hillary hissed eerily.

  Hillary’s words and the way she said them made Caleigh’s hair stand on end. Despite the warmth of the room, she shivered uncontrollably. She knew the end was near. Or so she thought. Or so she should have prayed. Hillary had madness in her eyes. She looked as though she were possessed. Caleigh struggled against the rope as her cries grew louder. Hillary began to laugh. It was like nothing Caleigh had ever heard fr
om her sister, from anyone. It was a slow, low-tone taunting snicker.

  “No...please don’t kill me....” Caleigh whimpered desperately.

  Hillary ignored her. Though she was facing her sister, she looked right through her.

  “HELP ME!” Caleigh shouted repeatedly, frantically.

  Hillary looked over at her alarm clock. It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon. It would be nearly three hours before her mother arrived home with her little brother and they lived over a mile from their nearest neighbor. No one would hear her scream. Still, she didn’t want to take any chances. At some point, she would have to put some tape over her mouth.

  Get another knife....

  Without pausing, Hillary turned and left her room. She walked swiftly to the kitchen and straight to the butcher block on the counter. All of the knives were there except one—the one she had used on her father and thrown into one of the bags with his body parts. She pulled out the longest one. It was a bread knife but Hillary liked its sharp serrated blade. The voice hadn’t spoken again, but it didn’t need to. Hillary knew what she had to do. The bread knife would work nicely.

  She walked to the utility closet and grabbed the duct tape. With the tape and knife in her hand, Hillary started walking toward the living room but turned back. Remembering all of the blood from her father’s body and the mess that it left all over her carpet, Hillary grabbed some garbage bags and the kitchen sponge. She would do things better this time.

  Carrying her supplies within her arms, Hillary trekked back to her bedroom where Caleigh was still crying and screaming hysterically. She had managed to roll her body closer to the door, but couldn’t get past the heap of clothing Hillary had purposefully left on the floor to hide the carpet stains. It made Hillary chuckle to see her desperation. Did she really think she had a chance of escaping?

  “Where are you going, Caleigh?” she asked mockingly.