What Really Happened-1

Oh crap.

This was the evidence she was talking about.

With an unknown steadiness, I tapped back from the torch on my phone, went to camera and snapped its picture.

The unknown steadiness returned to where it had come from and I started shaking again.

Tapping the gallery icon, I stared at the picture. Suffice to say, it was the creepiest picture I had seen in a long time. The last time I saw a creepy picture was a picture of drunk Eve creeping. Over her kitchen table. With her mouth full of mac and cheese. And her eyes shining because she had forgotten to turn off her flash.

I sighed loudly. I missed her.

And I sighed again because I had managed to get sidetracked again. Putting my bag on the ground, I zipped it open. There was it, the diary. Reaching, I pulled it out.

I glanced at the time icon on my phone which read '8:30' and let out a breath. Okay.

Murder story time.

I flipped through the diary, stopping by the page next to which were rough little fragments of the paper I had previously torn - so I knew the page was exactly what I was looking for.

"May 13.

I was packing my clothes when grandma stuck her head in my room and inquired, "where are you going, E?"

"I think it's time to pay my father a visit."

She was silent for a while and then croaked, "E, I know that he hasn't been the best father but do not do anything" -

I grinned at her.

"Why does she feel like we are going to do something?", Mr. Know-it-all asked quizzically.

"I wouldn't know. It's not like I spoke to you guys about what I was going to do in front of her. Did I talk to these guys about what I was about to? - No, I did not. Did I?", I blinked up at grandma.

It was a trick. Whenever I talked to the voices in my head before her, she would go all pale and shiver-y. She thought I was mad. No, I wasn't, you old hag.

And now she also knew that I was going to do something. Good for her. And don't you worry about her informing the police. She was too much of a wimp.

It was around 9:30 in the morning when I took a train from our town to where my father lived.

Train because if someone were to nose around the area from where his killer came from, he'd have to face a dead end since the trains in our town did not have cctvs.

The train journey was not so exhilarating. The olddie sitting behind me was chewing so loudly, I almost changed the plan just to get rid of her but Ms. Jolly was there, comforting and consoling me to not get distracted and to go with the plan.

I got off at the Empire Station at about 10:30 am." - the Empire Station, noted - "I knew where he was because of the letters mom used to write him and I remember his nonexistent replies too.

The more I thought about how he abandoned, and ridiculed us, the more my blood boiled and raged. He was going to get what he deserved.

So I held my head high and walked to his office. The one I hinted at to you.

On my way, I passed about a hundreds of people. This area was really crowded.

The people looked at me, blinked at what they saw, blinked again and then looked away. Because they did not see anything. Not my face, at least. I was wearing a mask. Yes, the same one you saw glued on the poem.

I had started working on it since mom's funeral. It was funny how I knew from that moment, that the mask would be the one thing I would need and use the most.

I made my way through people and asked for directions from a thin guy.

The place where my father worked was magnificent. I ate some granola bars on the way because, duh, a killer needs to be energetic enough.

Walking inside the place, I caught many eyes. But nobody really knew who I was. And that was exactly what I wanted.

The stupid elevator music fueled my anger more and so by the time I was marching towards father's office I had about pretty good reasons to kill him.

1. He left behind my mother and I.

2. His office elevator had stupid music playing in it.

3. He clearly was living a fancy and luxurious life considering the fact that he was working in this huge striking place while my mother and I were miserable.

4. I hated him.

Ergo, he deserved to die.

I knocked on his door softly, taking my mask off swiftly. There were slow footsteps and then the door opened.

I did not move for a beat. There he was, the green-eyed monster, who did not even take a moment before kissing my mother and I goodbye. Well guess what, the whole world was going to kiss him goodbye now.

I cleared my throat and his jaw dropped with the realization that I, his daughter, was there. He could recognize my eyes anywhere, I could see it written on his face.

"C-come in."

I stepped inside. The room was very small".

Glad someone thinks the same.

"I faced him again, but this time with a smile.

"What are you doing here?", he did not smile back.

"Why, father, I had to see you. A-after what happened, I - i just.", I choked on my fake tears. My, I was a good actress.

He blinked up at me. Yes, up because he was a little bit shorter than me.

"Kid, are you alright?"

"What kind of a father is he? Has he no shame? He has the audacity to ask after what he did?", Mr. Know-it-all grumbled.

"Of course he has shame. Why wouldn't he?" - I narrowed my eyes at father who was blinking even more rapidly trying to understand what in the world was going on.

Then, when he finally got the hint, his eyes comically widened.

"Y-you talk to yourself? Are, no, are you retarded?", I prepared myself for some curses to be thrown at me but what I got instead was -

"I-i am sorry my darling. Please I would do anything. I am ashamed. I-i am responsible for you talking to yourself and all this" - he sobbed. And I just stared at him.

I spent a whole minute thinking whether was I wrong here? I mean he was saying that he was sorry. Was it really necessary to kill him?

"Its just that after what your mother did" - I glared at him, so he was not sorry.

"I am sorry father, for what my mother did. I know what she did was immoral. But you need to know that you are my only family now. I need your help and support", I almost cringed at what I was saying but I kept talking to him in a soft manner, looking directly into his eyes so that he thought I was sincere, and I knew he believed it with the way his mouth was slightly open.

My guess is he expected me to blatantly refuse to what he thought my mother had done and I was going to do it, only after getting rid of him. Because the only thing wrong my mother had done was marrying this unhinged son of gun.

Good thing I was wearing gloves. That way I wouldn't have to use my hands to kill him. And to touch his stupid filthy blood when I kill him.

Because for some reasons, murder scenes can get bloody. I mean why? Can't they have no blood in their body?" - errr, that will make them zombies or dead, so no.

- "I smiled at him to make sure he felt at ease. And then, after waiting for a few minutes, he finally broke down. He told me everything that had happened in his life ever since he left us. He was happy that he had come here. And every time I saw him smile, I would get angry. At first I was scared of my anger that surged through me, it was dark and raging. But the more I saw him genuinely happy, the more I knew me being angry wasn't wrong.

He was genuinely happy. He ran away leaving my mom and I alone and there had been no karma for him. He had lived a long, happy life.

Well, his karma was finally here and was the most bitchy of them all.

So I kept talking to him, kept him busy. I didn't even let him have lunch, I mean it was going to be wasted anyway. I just batted my lashes and asked him not to worry about lunch when his daughter wanted to hear everything from him. He reluctantly agreed, because I hadn't contradicted him about mother.

But what he said after it, that's what really ticked me off.

"And I am happy, that you are not like your mother who went and had an affair with her stupid blue-eyed friend. I had always hated him and when I first saw you, I knew -", his bitter rant stopped when he noticed the look on my face.

And that was when I first heard her, the Enchantress.

She was whispering something. All the time when father was speaking, the others would talk in the corner of my mind. But now, when she spoke, no one dared to utter a single word.

She was whispering to end it all. She was livid.

"Kill him. He doesn't deserve to live after what he did."

"No, I can't kill him just now, that wouldn't be fun", I said out loud, pouting innocently at my father who's eyes widened like a saucer after blinking for the umpteenth time, finally understanding what I meant.

He gulped and trembled at the intensity of my gaze.

He knew that his time had come. A prey always knows it.

He whimpered.

"But-t you just-you agreed", he shuddered and stuttered pathetically.

"Oh, did I?", I blinked.

I knew I did. But I also knew why I did it. It gave him a tiny sliver of hope. He thought that I, his daughter believed him.

So being stupid, he told me everything, including the fact that everyone left the building at about 5:00 pm and he knew that it had been an hour since that. It was 6:00.

He knew he couldn't fight for his life. He was a limping old man whereas I could easily knock him out with a punch.

So he begged and whimpered in his moments. I didn't hear much of it. All I saw was red. The voices in my head were screaming and shouting and everything was a blur but I knew what I had to do.

So I stood up, went around the desk, held his face in my hands, said goodbye to him and gently bashed his head against the desk. And by gently, I mean the exact opposite: harshly and roughly. And smashed it again and again and again. Till I felt satisfied.

It took me a while to get back to my senses. I saw father laying on the floor, his jaw slackened and his eyes wide open. He was not breathing.

I kept staring at him.

I could only think of one thing. We had one thing in common. My one eye had the same colour as his both eyes.

"His eyes. They are like ours. Aren't they?"

I blinked when I heard the Enchantress' voice. I thought previously it was just my imagination because I had never heard her say anything before.

"Yes?", I had replied softly. I did not want her to go quickly just like before. She was a much darker version of me and I loved the thrill I had gotten with her.

"I want them. His eyes. I want them".

I shook my head puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Take them."

I blinked. She was right about wanting his eyes for myself. I never wanted to part with his eyes. But take them how?

"Use something. Tools. But take his eyes."