Placing the items within her hands on the wide dresser closest to her, she stepped over to Caleigh and bent forward. Using both hands, she pulled Caleigh by her legs and dragged her back toward the closet. Caleigh twisted and turned in protest, trying with all her might to break free from Hillary’s grasp.
“Please,” she sobbed piteously, “please just let me go.”
Leaving Caleigh squirming on the floor, Hillary walked back toward the dresser, kicking the clothing out of her way to clear the area. She grabbed the garbage bags, shook one of them open and spread it out on the floor next to her bed. She did the same with the remaining two bags, overlapping them.
Caleigh was wriggling so spastically that she was just inches away from the bags on the floor by the time Hillary finished putting them down. She stepped over the bags and stood beside Caleigh’s wildly twitching body. She stooped down and rolled her onto the bags. Caleigh kicked her bound feet, attempting to avoid Hillary’s touch. She didn’t know whether her deranged sister had any weapons in her hand. She anticipated being stabbed at any moment. Her heart pounded explosively within her chest. She was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. Her eyes were heavy with tears and her fingers were numb from the tightened rope around her wrists.
“Stay still!” Hillary barked.
Caleigh continued to struggle. Hillary stood up, took a step back then kicked Caleigh’s side. Caleigh yelped loudly but continued squirming. Hillary kicked her again, harder. Again Caleigh yelped but stopped moving and whimpered. She lay curled up slightly in the shape of a crescent moon, her knees marginally bent.
“That’s better,” Hillary said firmly, “from now on you’ll listen when I speak.”
From now on everyone will listen when I speak, Hillary thought, and smiled. It was nice to be heard.
Caleigh could hear Hillary’s feet padding quietly away from her, toward the front of the room. Caleigh wanted to turn and face her sister but didn’t dare move. The last kick was especially painful where Hillary’s sneaker had forcefully connected with her lower ribs. Before Caleigh could hope that Hillary had decided to leave her alone, she could hear her footsteps approaching. Her heart began to race again.
Hillary walked in front of Caleigh and stooped down. She tauntingly brandished the bread knife in front of the terrified girl’s face. Caleigh’s eyes grew wide with horror and she made an indistinguishable high-pitched sound—a mutant combination of a shriek, moan and whimper. It made Hillary laugh out loud. She could see how hard Caleigh was trembling with fear. A surge of power rushed through her and she felt more pride than she’d ever experienced.
Hillary moved the blade to Caleigh’s neck. Caleigh let out a series of sharp panting cries, sounding much like a woman in labor. She looked sadly into Hillary’s savage eyes as she felt the sharp blade against her soft skin threatening to end her life.
Hillary cackled loudly, clearly amused by the position she had Caleigh in.
This can’t be happening, Caleigh thought, it’s just a joke, just a joke....
But she knew it was in fact all too real; Hillary’s eyes were fierce...they radiated pure hatred.
Caleigh closed her own eyes and awaited death, unaware that it would not come quickly...unaware that she would soon be begging for it, not dreading it.
Hillary stood up and walked behind her. Hearing Hillary shuffling about, Caleigh opened her eyes and wondered where her sister had gone. She twisted her shoulder slightly and tilted her head up.
“Stop moving!”Hillary shouted as she stabbed the knife into the back of Caleigh’s neck. Through sheer luck, the knife struck just the right part of Caleigh’s spinal cord, between her fifth and sixth cervical vertebrae. With the precision of a surgeon, Hillary inadvertently managed to completely paralyze Caleigh’s legs, hands and wrists and effectively weaken her arms, rendering her sister a quadriplegic. As Caleigh shrieked in pain, her body twitched briefly before slumping uselessly to the floor.
Horrified, Caleigh wailed even louder as she realized the extent of her injuries. She was paralyzed. She was little more than a breathing paperweight. She couldn’t even feel the blood and cerebrospinal fluid gushing out from the deep gash in her neck.
Unaware that her sister was paralyzed, Hillary stabbed the knife deep into her sister’s thigh. She didn’t flinch, nor did she gasp or shout out in pain, even as Hillary struggled to remove the blade from her mutilated muscle. Caleigh lifted her head off the floor, shook it wildly then let it fall back to the floor. It made a loud sound each time her head hit the garbage bag spread over the carpet. She continued doing so for over a minute, whimpering heavily, while Hillary watched on in fascination. She wondered why her sister kept banging her head against the floor. The bag and carpet offered little cushioning. She had to have a huge headache by now. Had she gone made?
When Hillary at last grew tired of seeing Caleigh’s bizarre behavior, she stepped over to her head, which was back on the floor now, and lifted it up by grabbing a handful of Caleigh’s hair. She yanked harder at the clump of hair within her hand, hoisting Caleigh’s head sideways to an almost impossible angle. She pulled until it felt as if her head might pop off her neck. Caleigh cried out but made no effort to resist. Hillary released her hair and sent her sister’s head soaring down to the floor. The carpet provided cushioning but based on the loud thumping sound, Hillary knew Caleigh must have suffered a painful blow. Yet her sister remained still.
Hillary looked puzzled. Why wasn’t her sister fighting back? Why wasn’t she struggling for her life? Had she given up that easily? Was she bleeding too much from her injuries? Maybe she was almost unconscious.
“Caleigh...” Hillary called to her in a deceptively sweet voice.
Caleigh didn’t answer. She continued to whimper and moan.
“Answer me, Caleigh!” Hillary demanded, rapidly growing incensed.
She’s not listening to you, the voice taunted.
“Listen to me!” she shouted, “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?”
The bloodied knife was still within her hand.
You know how to make her listen....
“I’m not a whore,” Hillary shouted as she tightened her grip on the knife.
Breathing heavily, she stooped down to her sister’s motionless body and began slashing at her calves, then up to her thighs, her abdomen, across her rib cage and just under her shoulder. Caleigh didn’t budge. Her sobbing maintained its steady rhythm and tempo.
Her hand stained with Caleigh’s blood, Hillary rose and stepped back to look quizzically at Caleigh. She could not understand how her sister could just lie there. Didn’t she feel the pain? Then it dawned on her. She couldn’t feel the pain. She must have been rendered paralyzed by the incision on her neck. That’s why she had moved so spastically. She could only move her head now.
Hillary began to laugh maniacally. She had reduced her sister to a worthless mass...a blob, a lump of clay. Like a sack of laundry, her sister remained still except for slight movements of her head and her trembling lips.
“Do you even know how much you’re bleeding?” she asked her devastated sister.
Caleigh heard Hillary, but more muffled than clearly. She felt groggy as if suddenly waking from a dream. It took a great deal of effort to understand Hillary’s words. Her head hurt too much to open her eyes, so she kept them closed. She could not feel anything else, just the severe pain within her head. Her head felt too heavy to lift, as if someone had somehow filled her skull with rocks. She heard a faint humming sound, unaware that it was her own whimpering and moaning. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out, only her doleful sobs.
“You look so pale, Caleigh, I think you need some makeup.”
Hillary dropped the knife to the floor beside her. She rubbed her hands along the gushing wounds on Caleigh’s body. She smeared them all over Caleigh’s face, painting her sister’s face with her own blood. Caleigh moaned softly but did not resist. She kept her eyes closed, unaware of what was happen
ing to her. She was in a state of stock. Her breathing was shallow and she was growing weaker.
Don’t let the fun end just yet....
Hillary knew what the voice meant. She couldn’t let her sister die yet. She knew what she had to do. She had to stop the bleeding. She turned and abruptly left the room. She walked into the bathroom and searched through the cabinet where her mother kept a huge first aid kit. She opened it and pulled out bandages, the few remaining pieces of gauze and tape. She placed the kit back in the cabinet and returned to her room.
As expected, Caleigh was still slumped on the floor where Hillary had left her. She was still bleeding from most of her wounds. Without bothering to clean them first, Hillary covered the small ones with bandages and the larger ones with the gauze, which she taped in place. She hoped she had done enough to keep Caleigh alive. She already had one smelly body to dispose of she didn’t need another adding to the stench and drawing attention to her room. It was bad enough that she would now have to figure out how to explain Caleigh’s absence.
Caleigh was silent except for an occasional moan. Her skin felt cool and clammy. Hillary pulled the sheet off her bed and used it to cover Caleigh’s body. She picked the knife up and carried it over to the closet. She placed it on the far left, jamming it just behind one of the bags.
Returning to Caleigh, she leaned over and grabbed her sister’s bound feet. She dragged her slowly to the closet. She kicked at the garbage bags in an attempt to make room for her sister’s body. When the bags barely budged, she struggled to lift Caleigh’s lifeless body over one of the bags.
Feeling her head jerk about, Caleigh slowly opened her eyes. She could see blood all over Hillary’s shirt. She knew it was her own blood. She began remembering bits and pieces of what had happened. She began whimpering again at the thought of being paralyzed. Hillary was cursing under her breath as she kept trying to position Caleigh’s body over the bag. She kept slipping down and slumping forward.
Caleigh could see that she was in Hillary’s closet. She could see the garbage bags that contained her father’s body parts. Equally unappealing, she could smell them. She shook her head frantically, repulsed by the thought of being placed so close to the body parts.
“No...” she panted breathlessly, “no...no....”
A surge of excitement gave Hillary the strength she needed to complete her task. With a smile plastered to her face, she hoisted Caleigh’s body upright then quickly turned and positioned herself beneath her. When Caleigh slumped forward, Hillary was able to bear her weight using her back and shoulders. It reminded Hillary of all the times she had given Caleigh piggy-back rides when they were little. For a brief moment, her smile faded.
Do it, the voice beckoned.
Hillary slowly struggled to stand up and place Caleigh’s dead weight across two of the garbage bags. Caleigh shook her head feverishly back and forth while she cried out “no” repeatedly, but she was utterly powerless to do anything about her situation. Her head throbbed. It felt as if it were about to split open. She could feel her right cheek wet with tears, her upper lip wet from snot which made its way down into her mouth and her chin wet from drool. Yet the way she must have looked was the least of her concerns.
“Please,” she begged Hillary at last, “please don’t leave me here....”
Hillary laughed briefly before her eyes glazed over.
“Do you know how long I had to deal with him? You deal with him now! At least he can’t hurt you like he hurt me.”
“Please...please,” Caleigh begged.
“I used to beg too,” Hillary said angrily, glaring malignantly into Caleigh’s frightened eyes.
“No, Hillary...please,” Caleigh continued her futile pleas for mercy.
“Have fun spending time with Daddy,” Hillary mocked as she took a step back and started closing the closet door. The closet was packed too full for the door to shut all the way.
“NO, HILLARY!” Caleigh screamed out loud. “NOOOOOOOOOOO....”
Hillary left the door open as she walked over to her dresser and picked up the duct tape. She tore off a long piece, walked back to the closet and placed it over Caleigh’s dampened mouth, hoping it would stay put. Caleigh’s cries were subdued to a muffled whimper. She could barely hear her.
As Hillary turned to walk away, she muttered a few curses. Though she had tried to be careful about keeping the garbage bag under Caleigh’s body, it had apparently slipped out from under her when she was being dragged over go the closet. As a result there was a long streak of blood soaking into her carpet. She let out a long, exaggerated sigh and turned back to the closet where she had stashed the cleaning supplies earlier that morning.
Caleigh’s muffled cries grew louder and more frantic as she craned her head to look pleadingly at Hillary. Hillary ignored her as she pushed her way into the closet. She climbed over Caleigh’s body to reach behind the bag. She grabbed the nearly-empty bottle of carpet cleaner and the sponge and tossed them on the carpet behind her. As she slid back along the bag, Caleigh’s body followed her down and fell upon her feet. Caleigh’s head hit the small exposed patch of hardwood flooring between the carpeted room and the filled closet. It made a loud sickening smack as it struck the floor.
“Shit!” Hillary yelled, quickly pulling her feet out from beneath Caleigh’s body. She could hear Caleigh moaning.
Everything had gone white when Caleigh hit the floor. She had previously thought that her head couldn’t possibly feel any worse. She now realized how wrong she was. She wanted to close her eyes, fall asleep and never wake up.
Hillary fought to lift Caleigh off the floor but could not muster enough strength. Angry and exasperated, she kicked Caleigh’s body to the closet, shoving her violently with her feet as far into the closet as the remaining space permitted. She kicked Caleigh’s head hard enough to make her face the back of the closet. Caleigh’s whimpering increased as she turned her head back feebly to face Hillary.
When it appeared that Caleigh’s body would budge no further, Hillary slammed the closet door. It nearly closed all the way but bumped into Caleigh’s shoulder. Hillary continued to violently slam the closet door against Caleigh’s body over and over until at last she managed to force it shut. She wiped the sweat from her brow, picked up the sponge and swiftly left her room. She walked to the bathroom where she rinsed her father’s blood from the sponge then returned to her room. She used the remainder of the carpet cleaner removing Caleigh’s blood from her already-stained carpet. It lifted much easier and quicker than her father’s blood since it didn’t have a chance to settle into the carpet.
By the time Hillary was done cleaning up, Caleigh’s whimpering had ceased considerably. She was crammed so tightly between the garbage bags and the closet door that she could no longer move her head—the one part of her body that she had left to control. She failed to turn her head away when Hillary had slammed the door the first time. Consequently, it banged violently into her nose. Caleigh heard the sound of her nasal bone shatter before she felt the pain, before she felt the warm flow of blood running down to her neck. The pain was bad, but the swelling was worse. Within seconds she could feel her nose and the skin surrounding it, widen and swell. She was sure her nose had doubled in size. It became increasingly harder for her to breathe. She blew as hard as she could from her nostrils, attempting to expel the blood and clear the passageways. She could feel the stream of blood and snot oozing slowly down her chin. It had helped just a bit, but hurt immensely. She was congested again less than a minute later.
She could feel one of the bags full of her father’s body parts pressing firmly against her left cheek. Though the smell of death still managed to invade her nasal cavities, she knew it would be much worse if her sinuses were clear. Still, being so close to the smell and knowing what was causing it revolted her greatly.
As Caleigh’s mind re-lived the horrors of her afternoon, she began wondering if and when she would run out of air. To her surprise, she found herself h
oping that it would be soon. She had no desire left to live. She prayed that she would die before Hillary opened the closet door again. Fantasizing about death’s sweet escape, her eyes grew heavy and in no time at all, she fell asleep.
~7~
Within twenty minutes, Hillary had devised a plan to cover up Caleigh’s disappearance. Springing up from the couch, she darted up the stairs to her parents’ bedroom. She knew that they kept their luggage set in the back of their closet. She went right to it, grabbing the largest suitcase. She threw it on her parents’ bed, closed the closet door and began rummaging through the dresser drawers in search of her father’s clothing. She grabbed armfuls of clothes, dumping each pile sloppily into the suitcase, sneering especially at his briefs. How often had she seen him undress from them before ravaging her unwilling body?
Hillary dragged the heavy suitcase to the hall and left it by her bedroom door while she proceeded to walk to Caleigh’s bedroom. She pulled a duffel bag out of the closet and stuffed Caleigh’s clothing and personal items into it. Placing the strap over her shoulder, Hillary walked to the hall and grabbed the suitcase. She knew she had to get rid of them but wasn’t sure how she’d accomplish that task. For now she figured she could stash them under her bed. Her mother had no reason to look under there. She would make sure her mother stayed clear of her bedroom altogether.
As Hillary pushed the suitcase under her bed, she listened closely for Caleigh. She hadn’t heard any sounds from her sister since she was cleaning the bloodied carpet. She hoped Caleigh didn’t die. It wasn’t time yet...the fun wasn’t supposed to end so soon.
Curiosity getting the best of her, Hillary crept slowly to the closet once she had finished hiding the suitcase and duffel bag under her bed. She placed her ear to door and listened intently. Nothing. It was completely silent. Hillary began to worry. She threw open the closet door quickly. Caleigh’s body shifted, slumping away from the bags into the open space. Her eyes were closed. Hillary thought for sure she was dead. The blood Hillary had smeared on her face had dried and turned a brownish color. There was brighter, fresher blood caked on her nose, all over the duct tape and down on her neck. Hillary could see that her nose had been badly ruptured. She couldn’t help but wince at the sight of it.
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