Page 3 of Lilies from Hell

In the living room, I sat in an armchair and watched them exit the door. I tapped my foot impatiently as the minutes passed, and they didn’t return until someone caught my attention. I blinked to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me, but they weren’t. Apparently, the red-haired girl also lived in that house.

My feet led me to the kitchen. I watched from behind the door as she drank an orange liquid and returned it to the fridge. Then I waited for her to leave the kitchen before following her to what appeared to be her bedroom. When the door closed, I quickly returned to the main room.

I bit my lower lip, unable to bear the urge to see her again and find out more about her. I wanted to know what attracted me to her so much. Curiosity about what she was like inside soon added to my desire to know more about her, becoming a priority on my list. Maybe if I opened her up, I would know what made her so special.

The footsteps of my father and that man interrupted my thoughts, causing me to take my teeth off my lower lip. Before that stranger’s eyes were on me, I got up and headed for the car.

By the time we got back home, it was already dark. I went to my bedroom, passing my brother’s room. A couple of hours later, I still hadn’t been able to close my eyes. Even though it was almost dawn, I couldn’t fall asleep. I threw off the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what was wrong with me. The nausea in my stomach was still there every time I remembered that house.

I went to the window, looking for air to breathe. My feeling was one of suffocation. I rested my hands on the hinges and stared into space for a long time until my eyes lit up with a new idea. My father taught me that waiting for what you desired was pointless and cowardly. He always said it was best to take it yourself, and that’s precisely what I planned to do.

I put on something simple and grabbed my keys, shoving them into my pocket. Then I went to the garage to get my bike and set off for the same house I had visited that afternoon.

It took me longer than expected to find the house. With the daily training my brother and I were forced to endure, I could climb the fence with ease. The problem now was that her bedroom was on the top floor and the wall was difficult to climb. With a snort, I did so. The large windows were a great help.

By the time I reached her bedroom window, it was already slightly open, so it wasn’t difficult to get into the room. I wrinkled my nose at the powerful smell of vanilla mixed with something else, like meds. The darkness of the place did not prevent me from finding the girl sleeping soundly in her bed, surrounded by some stuffed animals.

I looked toward the desk, searching for anything that might be useful. Finding a thick book about zodiac signs made me raise my eyebrows. I opened it to a random page and found the word Scorpio in large letters right at the top of the page. My eyes fell, and I read the details on that sign. Then I read the dates for Scorpio, which coincided with my birthday.

I had heard my idiotic classmates talk about these things, but I thought they were nonsense. I closed the book and left it where I found it. My attention turned back to the girl who was sleeping like a rock, and the nausea returned, but this time I felt something else in my throat.

I approached her with slow, silent steps. Her chest rising and falling slowly. I tilted my head, observing her face as if it were the strangest thing I had ever seen. It was. Asleep, she looked innocent, like some kind of angel, but I knew she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. Someone whose father was such a close friend of mine couldn’t be.

Paying special attention to her still-closed eyelids, I took my gun out of my hoodie pocket and pointed it at her forehead. My eyes fixed on the piece of skin below the barrel. I wondered what it would be like to end her life at that moment and have her blood covering my knuckles. I brought the gun closer to her face, tracing her nose until I reached her lips, careful not to wake her.

Just as I was about to pull the trigger, the girl began coughing and stirring in bed. I moved away, watching expectantly for her to open her eyes. She didn’t. That was my incentive to leave that place, but I knew I would return to finish what I had started without even realizing it.

02

Two Weeks Later.

Age 13

I sat on the windowsill and leaned my back against the frame, with my legs in the air. I fixed my gaze on the birds I was tired of hearing every day, but soon something else drew my attention: a black SUV pulling into the front yard. Being alert to who it might be, I reached for the knife I always carried in my blue jeans, ready to throw it. It had been a gift from my dad for my last birthday. He stated I was good with knives.

I put the knife away and narrowed my eyes at a woman they were dragging along with them when I realized it was my dad and some of his men. Behind her was someone else I couldn’t see from the fourth floor where I was sitting. A shadow lurked beneath the woman’s skirt.

I went downstairs to the living room eventually, locating the woman who was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor. I often found myself in this situation after school or waking from a nap, heading to the kitchen for water. My dad never hid what he did. The violence he used, even when it wasn’t necessary, was his best ally in showing everyone who was in control and who had the power.

I narrowed my eyes, realizing that the shadow from before was a blonde girl. One of the armed men noticed her and separated her from her mother, grabbing her by the arm.

“Where’s your boss? Talk, you fucking whore!” my father roared angrily, pointing a gun at her.

My pleasant smile was proof of how much I enjoyed the tears and pain of others, without really knowing why. I only knew that somehow it calmed my unease. Sadly, my fun ended quickly. After speaking with the woman, my father shot her in the temple. Blood and brains spilled from her head, staining the carpet.

By the time I tried to get closer to her dead body, the girl let out a scream that made me wrinkle my nose and remember her presence. Her crying filled the room again, and it did not stop even when my father lifted her up in the air and brought her toward me with a smile.

“Here’s a new gift for you. Just like I promised.”

I looked at him indifferently before exchanging glances with the girl. What was I supposed to do with her? I had no need for another crybaby like my brother, and she gave no impression of being the type who could handle my games for very long. Killing her wasn’t an option either. I knew what happened when I broke the gifts my father gave me.

“Come on,” I said to the girl when I saw she was not following me as I started walking toward the stairs, but she still did not move or blink.

After leaving her there, I returned to my room. I had to keep trying to find out where the red-haired girl was. I hadn’t seen her since the last time I went to her house.

The next morning, the girl was still crying throughout the house, but at least now it wasn’t so annoying.

“Okay. Let’s read something, maybe that will shut you up for once,” I said, walking over to the large bookcase that held thousands of books.