Monique

Lady Macbeth

In year eight, Monique read Macbeth. She couldn't help but read with fascination when Lady Macbeth saw blood on her hands and couldn't wipe it away.

She was crazy. She was a murderer. An evil woman. A delusional part of mankind.

Monique can't get the blood from her hands. She suddenly feels like Lady Macbeth.

She's fucking crazy.

Cold droplets of water roll down her porcelain skin and hair as she rubs her hand vigorously with soap. This is her twenty-fifth time. She's been counting, and she's losing it. She scrubs. Her hands are hard and sore, but she doesn't stop. She has to get the blood off her hands.

She hasn't cleaned her cheek yet. She places her hand under the water, watching as the white foam of soap falls to the tiled floor and rolls into the drain. Her hands are still red with blood. It's like a tattoo she can never remove.

Monique loses it.

She slams her fist against the wall. She screams. She swears. She curses John. She curses Jimmy. She curses Rosalie. She curses Carmen.

Carmen.

Fuck Carmen.

Fucking bitch.

Whore.

Drunkard.

Slut.

Murderer.

Her words are drowned in the roar of the water rushing out of the showerhead. Monique sinks to the floor and weeps. The urge for Blood Red has never felt so great.

It takes ten slams on the door from Evelyn for Monique to turn off the shower and step outside. She wraps a blue towel around herself and leaves the bathroom. She goes into Stella's room and gets changed, not giving a damn about the unlocked door. Monique throws her hair into a ponytail trying not to look at her hands.

As she places a hair ribbon around her bun, something wet falls on her face. Monique ties her hair and touches the substance on her face. She cringes when she sees her hands.

Blood.

Monique shudders. She has to get the blood off her hands.

She stands in horror as more drops fall on her face. Monique runs to the windows and look at her reflection. There's blood everywhere. On her face. Her neck. Her chest. Her legs.

She's dripping with blood.

Monique slowly steps back as the room vanishes before her eyes. She can hear their screams again. The ground beneath her feet is cold. Harsh. Unwelcoming.

Monique wants to shuffle away, but her mind is detached from her body.

A table stands to the left with a chainsaw and axe on the side bench. The screams. The screams. She can hear them loud and clear. She sees the children huddling in the corner, some whimper. Some scream for help. Others claw at the walls. Monique looks at her scars and shudders.

Monique's eyes meet Jimmy's. She can never forget his white eyes.

"Jimmy?" She says as moves closer towards him. "Jimmy?" He doesn't reply. He stares ahead, his lips chattering with fear. Monique is about to grab and shake him when the door swings open.

"All right children. I have something for you." Monique's blood runs cold as Rosalie enters the room. In her hand is a large bowl. Monique backs away as the children hurry towards her as quickly as they can. Something in red paper is handed to them and Monique watches in both horror and fascination as they open the small packages and place the substance in their mouth.

It's an instantaneous reaction.

They stop screaming. They stop crying. They lean back on the wall and close their eyes, a smile on their lips.

Rosalie chuckles and turns around. Monique trembles with fear when their eyes meet. Rosalie slowly walks towards her. Monique's eyes search the place for some sort of exit.

But there's none.

"Don't you want one, Monique?" The words roll smoothly from Rosalie's mouth as she takes the last package from the bowl.

"Stay away from me." Monique whispers.

Rosalie grins. "You can't run away."

Monique screams and lunges at Rosalie's face.

Rosalie disappears.

The children disappear.

Jimmy is gone.

The harsh floor has been replaced with the warmth and comfort of a carpet. Monique begins to heave, but nothing comes out. Not even the pizza she ate during the afternoon. She sits on the bed and stares into space.

It's then it hits her.

Nothing went to plan tonight. She does not have John back.

For a moment, Monique wants to cry. She wants to turn the room upside down and curse the universe and the Milky Way for all her problems. But she doesn't.

John would have never done that.

She recalls what he told her once, as they sat in their paradise under the cloak of blue. "Sometimes you have to go away to find answers. Not only does it clear your head, but it gives you a new perspective."

Monique looks outside the window. She knows what she must do.