Will you play with me? Please?

2: Investigation

This first bit of the chapter is the same as the prologue, so if you have read that, you don't need to read this part.

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At the sound of the birds singing their beautiful song through their chirping in the morning, I woke up. My tiredness could not be described in words.

After my little game that lasted the whole night, I fell asleep as soon as I arrived home through my window. Normally, I would not play games outside at night, but that's mostly due to my age and my need to sleep more. But, everything has an exception, doesn't it?

I pull off my duvet and stand up a little too quickly for my body's liking, making my head spin and my eyes see black. Oddly enough, instead of feeling disgusted by this, it actually feels kind of refreshing, though my mind is groggy and clouded. As I look around my room, I take in the rose-red walls, that reminds me of the happenings of last night.

Everything in my room was a different shade of red, even the light's in the ceiling gave off a soothing red and warm glow. If you still haven't guessed it, my favourite colour's red. It gives me this ecstatic feeling of warmth and love. That is probably also the reason for me playing these types of games. Whenever the red colour splashes upon walls, ceiling, floors or any kind of object, my stomach feels full of butterflies and my mouth automatically opens into a beaming smile.

Oh, and the screams. They're like music in my ears. Screams just add onto the satisfaction of being able to paint whatever you want with red. There's nothing better in the world than the feeling of accomplishment. The feeling that this is the right thing for you, and you should be proud. No matter how many times I do this kind of stuff, I simply cannot stop. I'm addicted, so to say.

I feel like an artist whenever the red splashes everywhere. I feel like myself. It's the only way to express my true feelings.

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Standing in my room, I look around to find that my drawing of the homeless man lay on the wooden floor. Not the most ideal place for it to be so to say. Especially since I've already made it become real. I wouldn't want anyone to make connections to the crime and a bit-too realistic drawing of gore and blood in the room of a child. But, even if they did make a connection of some sorts, I have a hard time believing they will actually think of me as the murderer. They'd probably be more likely to suspect Mommy and Dad, and I'd rather avoid such a situation if possible.

As I begin to walk towards the drawing, a knock comes from my door. My heart skips a beat. This is definitely not a good situation. As fast as my small legs can carry me, I run towards the drawing and stash it away in my drawer at the exact moment the door opens and reveals my mother. I try my best not to look flustered and give her a beaming and innocent smile.

Lucy: "Good morning Mommy!"

I release a giggle and run over to embrace her. She's got a suspicious look in her eyes as she looks down at me. I'm beginning to feel cold sweat trickle down my back.

Mom: "What are you hiding Lucy?"

Lucy: "Nothing Mommy."

Mom: "Then why did you look so flustered when I came in?"

Lucy: "I-I...just didn't want you to see a surprise I've prepared for you and Dad."