𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 |𝐘𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮

Prologue

Possibly, Lia had lost her mind. Maybe it was as simple as that.

Regular people go insane all the time, give them  the "right" circumstance and it becomes more effortless than anyone could imagine, especially since not everyone has the same standards for what is truly insane.

What would you say? The ball is in your court, is murdering your physically, mentally, and sexually abusive parents an act done by an insane human being? Or is this logical?

To an insane person, this is logical. This was how their brain calculated a solution to their situation. So to say it's insane is both right and wrong, right?

"They weren't there to go through it all..." Lia told herself, sitting in the corner of her parents' room. She was on the floor, cradling herself, rocking back and forth. Repeating the same words aimed at the people that would call her crazy. "They weren't there to go through it all..."

With the kitchen knife in her hands, covered in thick red crimson, she dropped it to the floor from her hands that matched the blood on the floor. In their king sized bed, her parents laid, stabbed to death in their sleep.

She got them both in the heart first, to kill them and make sure they couldn't gang up on her. Then she took her everything out on their corpses. Her mother was stabbed 21 times, while her disgusting step-father was stabbed a brutal 108 times.

Lia had no plans for tomorrow, or the days after that. She would go to the red bridge and that would be it. She'll start anew somewhere, hopefully luckier.

She felt like she was fighting the floor as she got up, her knees aching for being bent for so long, her head was in pain too. It had been since she was a child. She thought she was letting toddler Lia down, by ending up this way, but she knew that she was still proud of herself, and maybe her younger self will learn to forgive her.

As she covered herself in black sweats, she thought about what the news would call her.

Twenty year old from San Francisco murders parents in family home.

Twenty year old victim murders abusive parents in family San Francisco home. No they won't be that nice, and Lia won't be here anymore to tell them that she was abused.

Maybe, 'Crazed woman murders family in childhood home and flees the scene.'

Most likely, something like that.

Before she left the house, she left a note on her parents' nightstand. 'I'll be gone by morning.' And then put two white roses over their bodies, the blood oozing from their wounds turned the leaves red. They turned Lia's leaves red; the white was no longer visible, and the innocence was gone. 

She stared at the white petals, watching the flower go from white to red. She earned those roses, in her life, she's earned many roses. Usually white or red. Standing at the front of the stage, a blooming ballet tutu around her tight waist, she bows like a human swan for the applauding audience. 

Hiding the pain in her toes and ankles with her smile, masking misery and abuse with makeup. The audience gives her kudos for how many hours she put into her lead role, they thought it was only her time and junk food that she sacrificed. 

But every time she bowed on that stage, she had only felt like she sacrificed more than what she had. 

Roses fall at her feet, collected and thrown into a bouquet for her once the curtains close. Only when she gets home, the white pedals are ruined with red because her parents would swear, she wasn't good enough for the roses, not even for white ones which signified innocence. As if it was her fault that they and her ballet instructor took that away from her.