It was the night of the full moon. The thickness of blood stained my tiny palms as I saw my father infront of me, desperately trying to gasp for more air. Right beside my pure white dress, ripped apart and covered with blood was a kitchen knife, splattered and tainted with blood. I was panting heavily. My eyes were showing no sign of will or consciousness. The bloody corpse beside me was scary and frightful, enough to make one puke. I was thirteen. I had just killed my only father who was trying to assault me. What should I do?
The flickering sirens from police cars were right outside the house. I could vaguely see the blinking red light behind the draped windows. It reminded me of blood. The colour was stuck in my head, really unpleasant. Soon enough, there were several knocks on the door, followed by bangs and pushes. Muted voices came from the other side of the heavy wooden door which made me feel dizzy. A large bunt on the door was enough force to open it. A few officers in blue with golden badges and investigators came marching in. A young man with marshmallow blonde hair in a black suit checked the corpse's pulse and condition for the autopsy then headed to my direction. Without knowing that I was the one who killed him, he asked, "Are you alright, young lady? What happened?" He tried to straighten my back and slumped posture by sliding his finely structured hands down my stiff back and small framed shoulder. "Phillia. Phillia Steward," A voice came from the back of the young man, "Daughter of the diseased Richard Steward. Must've been a shock to her. She looks so frightened, as if her soul's slipped right out of her mouth." The person who spoke was a tall, masculine man with ruddy cheeks. I didn't utter a word. The whole time I could only hear murmurs related to the case. I didn't move, didn't dare to. Scared that I would blow my cover.
"This is a problem. If she doesn't move, we can't investigate the place properly. Get her to move, Johnson," The masculine man ushered a woman who was tall, like a model, and had long, slender limbs with a balanced structure. She had her black hair pulled back into a plait bun and small framed glasses on. She knelt down slightly and smiled, "It'll be a problem if you don't go away. It must've been frightening, hasn't it? Come with big sis and I'll bring you to a much safer place." I stared at her for a moment, blinking my eyes once. She swung her arm around my waist and lifted my hand onto her shoulder as I staggered with her support. She dragged me over to a tent-like place and sat me down. Through the whole time, there were questions that bombarded me but I didn't reply a single word.
YOU ARE READING
To be Seen by Crimes: The Heart
RomancePhillia Steward, a thirteen year old, killed her own father who tried to sexually assault her with her two bare hands. Ever since that night, Phillia wouldn't utter a word. Having put in a new family, a new city and a new school, how will Phillia co...
