Author note: Nothing in this story could ever possibly really happen in real life. If Leena and the Orphan was real, Leena would be spending life probably in a mental hospital... but I like my version better :) Enjoy!
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Most writers or artist's would love the idea of working for a popular newspaper in Chicago.
Writer's are expressive. They are fluent in human body and emtions. They understand beauty dosen't have to be fake. They understand love can be a poison. They understand pain can feel good.
Writer's can take a unknown, un-named sould, and make that soul someone everyone want's to be. Take Kat in The Hunger Games, or Bella from Twilight.
Writer's are not afraid of letting their characters fall helplessly in love, become 100% insane, or be murdered.
Murder.
Murder.
Murder.
That's exactly what Leena had done. She killed a husband and a dad. One that loved her like she was his own daughter. He was broken from a still born. He has a disrespectful son and a deaf daughter, and a forgiving wife who looked past his cheating.
Cheating. Disrespect. Deaf. Forgiving.
None of the above is a reason to kill, injure, scar, or ruin a person, but she had done all of the above.
She killed a loving husband and father.
She remembered the night.
She remembered setting the whole tree house on fire, and watching it go all up in flames, while helpless little Danny was stuck without any other escape then to jump. He did, but that didn't help him. Sure, he wasn't going to die from cathing on fire and having his young flesh burned and melted off of him, leaving his organs out to roast, but his inside's were swelling, and filled with the bright red sticky liquid called blood. Blood that she was hungry for. If the ambulance was a second late, he would of died.
Yet, that wasn't enough. She wanted him gone. He was going to tell on her, and she couldn't have that.
John wouldn't love her anymore if he knew the truth.
When she was satisfied with the boys purple lips and breathless chest, she left him there to rot.
Kate couldn't handle it anymore. Leena deserved more then just a smack. She deserved to be tortured and killed for all the families she ruined.
John still brought her home though. All Leena wanted was one night of passion, and it would be all over. She would never hurt a soul again as long as she felt him within her, but he knew better. He yelled, and screamed.
A broken Leena had no idea what else to do. So she took the knife and stabbed him, letting him drain.
She took the gun and shot. She tried so hard to get rid of everyone. Anything. If she didn't get what she wanted, no one else should survive.
Most people thought she died that night. When you are telling the story though, you would think the whole family would die, as Leena was a cold blooded killer, but you would find out Kate kicked her in the neck. Broke it. She would sink lifelessly to the bottom of the pond, but if you knew anything about Leena, you would know that she is the master of trickery.
When Katie and Max left, the never told anyone where 'Esther' was.
Not until it was too late anyways.
When she slowly swam her way to the surface, she felt like she had been pierced all over her skin with frostbite. She saw no one. She heard no one. In the distance though, she saw the flashing lights. They were everywhere.
She ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she could. She lived life rough from then on. She hided in bars, gas stations... anything. She stayed with random truckers in theyre cars, just running from the police.
It was not the police who found her, or Kate even. It was the Saarne institude that dragged her back to Estonia. They tried everything, but nothing could help her. They thought about injecting her with a sweet, awful posion, but America had a better offer.
Apparently, American hospitals are beter then the ones in Estonia, because in three months, after talking to therapists everyday, many treatment options, sex addiction help, and taking a "special" medication, she was back to normal. Was that a good thing though?
She never knew the true meaning of hate until after four months of hospitalazation, she finally looked at herself in the mirror. She was different. Her medicine was specially made by her doctor. It had hormone's in it, and now, she didn't look like a child. Instead, she looked like a young teenager. She had breast's, and a longer legs and arms. She still looked a child though. She was really 37 years old now, but she looked much, much younger.
She looked older, more beautiful even. She couldn't swallow herself though. She was a killer. She killed two families, and ruined another. She couldn't go a day without thinking of little Max or Danny. She let go of the other families, but not Max and Danny. She couldn't handle the though of Max and Danny going off in the world, knowing she was the one who scared them and took away a person who loved them more then anything in the world.
After almost two years, and the law and the hospital decided to give her a second chance at life.
Now, she was working as a writer for a popular newspaper in Chicago. She live her life almost totally normal. Everywhere she went though, someone was always there. If she walked up the street, someone else was always right across the street. If she went shopping, someone was always in the same aisle. When she was at worked, the stayed near the cubical. The police were always watching her every move to make sure she didn't do something stupid. They looked over all grocery receipts, online orders, checked her bags, her room, which had no windows or vents, her cubical, and even her pockets for dangerous items. Someone even stayed in her own home with her!
She loved the freedom though. Looking at her, you would never tell what was going on in her life. The police were always hidden and no one knew she was being followed by police men everywhere except for her boss.
She just couln't stand her self. It took all the courage she had not to kill the little snowy faced girl she saw in the mirror. She wanted a second chance, but sometimes, she wished Kate's kicked had proved fatal.
This would not be the end of her story though. She had much more pain and fear to go through before she could let go of the past.
