Chapter Two: Closet Gems:

"Girls, breakfast is ready! Get your little asses down here and eat!"

I groan and roll onto my back, placing my arm over my eyes to block out the blinding sunlight. Another groan answers mine, making me smile.

"She won't stop until we come down," Blanche, my cousin, answers groggily from her twin bed across mine. I give her a knowing look as I grab my phone.

Blanche rubs the sleep from her eyes as her light, curly blonde hair falls in front of her face. She breathes out and blows the strands away, not bothering to waste energy lifting her arm.

"To think I've lived with that woman my whole sixteen years and haven't gone mental yet...it's astonishing."

"Just be glad she's still here." I make my way to the bathroom.

"Sorry," Blanche mumbles as I shut the door, turning to look at my reflection in the mirror. It's been three months, yet I still have nightmares. I also find myself in tears whenever I'm alone. I can describe it as the feeling of a knife being pierced in my chest. I can try to pull it out, but the hole only increases in size, pulsing and tightening. It's paralyzing.

The mention of my parents or anything to do with family, makes me sick to my stomach. I can't remember the happy times we spent together, for all I recall are their heads ripped away from their bodies. And the thought that their killer or killers are still out there...

The police seem to have given up on solving this case, hoping it would just flow off into the wind. In a sense, that's exactly what their killer may have done. There was no forced entry into our home, no fingerprints, and basically nothing to help solve the murders. At first I had been a suspect, but I was proven innocent due to the invention of technology: my neighbor's security cameras. My parents' bodies are still missing, and I was not seen leaving the house to hide two adult bodies. The most frightening information of all is that no one else was seen entering, or leaving my house. The killer just vanished along with my parents' bodies.

"Girls!"

I shove my pajamas off and quickly step into the tub, closing the shower curtain. This is my solitude, where I can be completely alone with my thoughts. I can cry here without anyone questioning if I'm okay. No, I don't need that. Sympathy? It's not what I want. What I want sits on my dresser in two small white urns, side by side. My heart clenches painfully at the thought.

"Are you almost done? I need to get in too, girl!" Blanche knocks on the door, but refrains from opening it. Before my parents died and I had weekly sleep overs here, Blanche and I didn't give a shit about privacy. If she wanted to use the toilet, brush her teeth, or do her makeup, there was no stopping her. I didn't mind and neither did she. But now, she knew I needed my space.

"I'll be out in a second," I reply, tying a towel around my body.

"Took you long enough," Blanche smiles as she strides into the bathroom. I shrug, moving into our room to get dressed. Choosing a matching track outfit, I make my way down the stairs.

"Morning, hun," Aunt Autumn smiles, grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

"Hi," I mumble, sitting down in front of the table.

"Eat up, we have a big day ahead of us."

"What are we doing?" I shove a piece of bacon into my mouth.

"We'll be going to your house," she eyes my reaction.

Of course, I nearly choke on my food.

"Why?" I can feel my heart rate skyrocket at the idea. I hadn't been there since the murders. It was in the middle of being processed for selling, which Aunt Autumn was handling for me. I didn't think I would ever need to go back there.

"Well, I've gotten rid of a few things. But there are items I believe are too precious to be thrown out. They are all yours now.

"Can't you just bring everything here?"

"No, there's still too much. I believe you need to face this, Rayne. I know what happened was tragic. I lost my sister too, yet I need to go to her house and see where she raised you—where she and I were raised. Please," Aunt Autumn looks at me with tears in her eyes, which I try to avoid.

"Fine, I'll go."

Another mistake.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Blanche asks as we follow Autumn up the steps to my house.

"No, but I should push myself to do this. It's the only way I'll get over it," I whisper, watching the windows to check and make sure my parents' ghosts weren't there, warning me away from the house. If only they had been...

"I'll be right next to you, okay?" Blanche holds my hand, giving me a gentle, reassuring smile. I nod in response, turning towards the front door with caution. Aunt Autumn unlocks it, shoving it open as she carries a bag of groceries. I expect to see flames bursting out, melting our flesh into a pool at our skeletal feet.

But that is not the case.

The first thing I see is the living room, slightly bare and not like its old self. It seems as if the life has been sucked out of it, no personal items or implications that a family used to lounge together there.

"Most of the stuff is in their room and yours" Aunt Autumn says.

I nod, moving to the entrance of the hallway between the living room and kitchen. I can recall the sight of the old image of the room, where my parents' decapitated heads had been. Shivers immediately erupt over my skin, tingling up and down my spine.

Blanche pats my shoulder, trying to reassure me. I turn away from the old memory, and continue down another. My eyes immediately find the spot where the small pool of blood had been. Not being able to focus on it due to the tugging on my hand, I let Blanche lead me into my parents' room.

"Aww, look," Blanche holds up a family photo inside a glass frame and hands it to me.

I stare down at it and battle my emotions. Tears threaten to fall, but it feels like I'm completely zapped of them. So my eyes squint together painfully, and my lips quiver as a defeated sigh releases from them.

I had been a toddler at the time the picture was taken, playing in an enormous gathering of fallen leaves. Mom was standing next to the pile, bellowing with obvious laughter and clutching her stomach. Dad, on the other hand, had a pretend annoyed expression on his face. He sits cross-legged next to me on the ground, staring at mom. His facial expression may have portrayed annoyance, but his eyes gave off the impression of being madly in love. He seemed incredibly happy. We all did. I wore a purple winter jacket with an image of Ariel the Little Mermaid on it. Black jeans fit my tiny legs, and an odd combination of brown cowboy boots were placed on my feet. Dad must have done my hair that day, as my head had multiple pigtails all over in random spots.

"How about we put everything you want to keep in a pile over in the corner here. And stuff you don't want, put it over there."

Nodding in response, I start sorting out my life.

At least, what is left of it.

"Girls, we should head out soon! It's getting late, but we can come back tomorrow!"

"We're almost done though!" Blanche shouts, leaning on the open door frame.

"We'll be coming here tomorrow anyway. We can head back and play a game of poker. I'll make us some lime margaritas?"

"Okay, we'll be right out!" Blanche turns to me with a huge smile, jumping up and down. She goes to close the closet door but something blocks it.

"Oh my God, did you paint this?"

"What?" I turn to the object that peaked her interest. As soon as my eyes meet the canvas, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. There is a sense of dread—a sense of uneasiness as I stare at the painting. For a second I thought the red-headed woman moved to look at me, but it was obviously from my wild imagination. Or fear.

"This is your best yet!" Blanche leans down to touch it. For some reason, a part of me hates the thought of her near it, or that she even knows it exists. I feel genuinely concerned for her, as if she is bending down to put her hand inside an alligator's mouth.

"It's not my work." I watch her like a guard dog.

"You definitely need to keep this."

I shudder; just the thought of that painting being near gives me the creeps. It hadn't before, only now. Maybe because of that night?

"No, I don't want it. It's going in the garbage!"

"Can I have it then if you don't want it?" Blanche ignores my annoyance, her eyes alive with excitement. It almost looks like she has been possessed.

"No, come on!" I move towards the hall.

Aunt Autumn gives me a look as I stride pass her and run out the front door. Once I'm in the car, I feel a strange sensation ripple down my back. My eyes scan my surroundings in fright, sensing that I am being watched. It's an odd perception of awareness. I just know someone is watching me right now, and I would bet my life on it.

I glance at the forest and the other houses on the block. The car shakes as the trunk is opened, making me shout in shock. I hear Blanche mumble my name as she talks with her mom. Realizing that the threat of danger is no longer present, I lick my lips and take deep breaths.

Tomorrow, that painting is going in the garbage.