We Must Be Killers

"We came here to start over, and I am starting over!"

– Norma Bates

Chapter 1: Restart

Elena Perrish spent the night drunk and doing terrible things. She woke the next morning with a headache, put her hands to her temples, and felt something unfamiliar, a pair of knobby pointed protuberances. She was so ill - wet eyed and weak - she didn't think anything at first, was too hangover for thinking or worry.

But when she was swaying above the toilet, she glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink and memories of the previous night hit her like hurricane; shouts, yelling, tears, cruel words... Elena inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself, though her killer headache wasn't helping her.

She suddenly felt a sick feeling in her stomach and the next thing she knew, she was throwing up everything she consumed last night. She shoved herself into a pair of dark blue leggings and wore a crimson blouse; she didn't feel like being fashionable or proper today, the need for escape was slowing overwhelming her.

She wandered into the bedroom slowly, trying to keep herself steady. The bedclothes were shoved back on either side, and the bottom sheet still bore the rumpled impression of Scott Martin's body. She had no memory of him entering into her room, but he must have climbed from her balcony, she didn't even remember talking - another missing part of the night. It had been in her head until this very moment that she had slept alone and that Scott had spent the night on the floor, judging from the forgotten jacket that lay on her carpet.

They had gone out the night before, but after a number of drinks, Elena had naturally started to think about her mother, the anniversary of her death was coming up in a few days, and the more she drank, the lonelier she felt. However, Scott; her sweet, handsome, Scott with his tattoos, his piercing, his bookshelf full of Dean Koontz novels, and his cigarettes. Scott who was so un-Elena, so opposite of herself.

It irritated her to have him sitting there on the other side of the table as he listened the same annual speech she was giving. It seemed a kind of betrayal to be with him, although whether she was betraying her mother, her father, or herself, she didn't know.

Finally she decided to head downstairs, the fight with her father was over due to her childishly storming and locking herself inside her room; the war was over and now she had to face the outcome, and by outcome she meant the overwhelming feelings of hurt and shame.

Everything was neat; the hall, the stairs, the kitchen, the living room - she wouldn't be surprised if the garage was also clean- it was a known fact among the little family that her father was a clean freak and now that Ignatius was currently visiting his godson, it brought no surprise to Elena that her father had taken it upon himself to keep the house neat.

A delicious looking breakfast was waiting for her on the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen; orange juice, eggs with bacon, toast with cheese, pancakes, and waffles with chocolate was on the table looking as if it had come out from a classic Hollywood movie.

She wasn't about to give into the temptation this time however, no nice gestures, delicious breakfast, or little notes was going to make her surrender. She knew her father's little game: charm her till she felt guilty enough to go as far as even beg for forgiveness.

She only grabbed an apple from the fruit's basket and took the bag she had packed last night after she had stormed off, along with Scott's jacket, leaving everything untouched as well as her phone and keys left behind.

She wouldn't be the one giving up this time.

Scott Martin took a sip of coffee as he tapped his fingers impatiently against the plastic table, he knew she would come and true to his prediction at 11 o'clock, Elena Perrish appeared looking gorgeous like she was the day he met her; he didn't know how she managed to look good after a night of drinks and hours of fighting but Elena was a little firecracker that was dying to burst. And when she burst, she was better than fireworks.

"You left this behind."

Scott caught his jacket that was thrown at him with ease due to his good reflexes, "On purpose." He admitted with no remorse in his voice.

"Of course" she said coolly, taking a sit across him.

"You wouldn't have come here otherwise." he added and she confirmed it by nodding. "So, is there a band new information I should know?"

"Nope," She shook her head, a curl falling from her high bun."This time things are different." she insisted, placing the huge bag on the table which caused him to raise an eyebrow. "I'm starting over. I've backed clothes, my savings, and the things for work. I'm not going back."

Scott pressed his lips together, he wanted to believe her so badly but there was something in her eyes that simply made him doubt: love, pain, dependence, and loyalty, these were the perfect words to describe her.

Maybe the sudden need for independence would make more harm than good.

After a couple of minutes, the waitress brought an espresso and when Elena asked how he knew what she would order, Scott shrugged. "I know you."

Elena gave a shiny smile as she took a hold of her coffee. Espresso was not something to be taken lightly. The smell, the essential quirky mug. How it warmed the hands, or the unexplainable ability it had to ease pain - especially after a long night of finishing off a box of wine. Elena Perrish could appreciate the simple pleasures in life. Complicated ones were usually too hard to come by.

She sipped the hot drink, wincing at the sharp pain in her head as the steam fogged her sunglasses.

"You can stay at my place if you want to." Scott offered after a while, he knew very well how much she liked drinking her coffee in peace. "Or Emma's" he murmured, scratching the back of his head.

"No, these are the two first places he's going to look."

Scott thought carefully before he proposed, "You know... I heard from Mrs. Johnson that a new family moved here-"

Elena cocked her head to the side, the bright sun hitting her oval face. "And I should care because..."

"I heard they're gonna run the Seafairer Motel." he hummed and looked up.

Taking the hint, her lips parted before curling up. "Are artists generally smart and sneaky?" she asked after letting out a chuckle.

"If they have to impress the one they love." At that their eyes met and the connection they have came back full force.

"Scott..."

"I know, I know!" He said quickly, throwing his hands in the air as a sign of defense. "You need your 'space'." He made quotation marks with his hands.

She grabbed his hand and told him softly, "I need to sort out my priorities."

Scott let out a dry laugh but didn't refuse her touch. "Glad to see I'm once again in the bottom of your priorities."

Her finely shaped eyebrows furrowed, "You're not in the bottom!"

"Yes, I am." He insisted, tightening his grip hard enough to make her tense. "First it's your dad, then your job, then school, college, future etc, and somewhere in the corner there's me"

Elena shook her head and pulled her hand away, "You demand a lot of things from me, Scott. You weren't always like this." She protested, trying to defend herself.

His blue eyes narrowed and he scowled, "This is nonsense, nothing has changed I'm still the same guy you met all these years ago."

Getting up, she slept her hands into her jacket and took the bag. "Then maybe I never knew you at all."

Scott opened his mouth to respond but she had already run out of the coffee shop.

Running a hand through his blond hair, he pulled out a wallet from his pocket to pay for the coffee while thinking everything he just exchanged with his ex.

"Norman? Can we talk for a minute?"

Norman froze before he forced his body to relax; he went and sat across Miss Watson who had his school records out. He couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, like he was going to get in trouble for something although he didn't know exactly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly

"No, no. Not at all." she assured him "I'm going to be your advisor here. Now I've just been reviewing your school records and - I have a question." she paused for a moment, making sure he was paying attention.

"Your grades are less than stellar. They're actually less than average." She glanced at the school records and shook her head. "But then, here and there, you'll suddenly have an A plus in geometry or here, in science. And your test scores are really impressive. But your grades don't match up with them. And that's a shame"

He could actually hear a sad tone in her voice and for a moment he wondered why she was even bothering with him.

"Why do you think that is Norman?"

He shrugged and answered like an oblivious child, "I don't know - exactly."

He counted approximately 45 seconds before the awkward silence was broken by her steady voice. "Well, take a guess." she encouraged, smiling

"We move a lot?" He felt like he was being examined by a doctor rather than questioned by a teacher.

"I see that," Miss Watson nodded. "You've been in five different schools."

Norman smiled awkwardly, feeling nervous as Miss Watson studied him for a moment, searching for something that he didn't know.

Whatever she was looking for, she failed to find it and so she leaned back to her chair. "Is everything okay at home?"

His eyes narrowed for a second but his reaction disappeared as quickly as it came. "Yeah, my mom's just a little... impulsive. She gets ideas about things and then we move to 'start over'.

Once again she seemed to study him for a bit and Norman felt a stab of annoyance hitting him.

"Have you started thinking about colleges?"

"Not really." His answer was short and quick.

"Don't you ever think about the future? About when you grow up?"

"I guess not really."

She smiled at him, but Norman noticed how concerned she looked as she made a few notations on his records. He quietly tried to read them, but she noticed it and closed it before he could make out anything. He returned her smile awkwardly and his cheeks almost hurt.

"I think it might be good idea, now that you're here, for you to try and put down some roots, ge-" she was suddenly cut off by someone who was knocking the door. Almost immediately his attention shifted to the person who came.

"Miss Wats- Oh... I'm sorry, should I go?" Right there stood at what Norman could confidently confirm the second most beautiful girl he had seen in this town – the first being Bradley –

She was a brunette with average height and seemed quite thin, she wore a plain crimson T-shirt that was covered by her black leather jacket and blue leggings which seemed to match with her black sneakers.

Norman wasn't an expert in fashion but he couldn't help comparing her to Bradley with her shiny natural straight hair and short skirt.

"No, no Elly." Miss Watson got up and pointed an empty sit across her, beside Norman. "Take a sit"

The girl Elly obeyed and didn't make a sound as she moved; it didn't escape from his eye that she was carrying a rather large bag.

Miss Watson took her sit before smiling once again brightly. "Norman, this is one of my best students: Elena Perrish. Elena, this is our newest student: Norman Bates, he just moved here." She introduced them and Norman looked at the girl who appeared to be as weary as he was.

"Nice to meet you" She stick out her hand and hesitantly he shook it with his as he nodded. "Me too."

"Elly, this is your previous test." Miss Watson handed her a piece of paper.

"High mark as always." There was pride in her voice but Elena looked at the paper with blank eyes.

Miss Watson glanced at the bag on the ground before she asked lightly, "Trouble at home?"

"Nothing unusual."

Miss Watson sighed, almost disappointed, her smile slowly fading. "Elly, as I was going to say to Norman, I believe for both of you it would be a good idea to get more involve, mayb-"

"I'm already involved!" she protested and Norman wished Miss Watson would just dismiss him, he felt so out of place.

The teacher didn't bothered and she carried on, "What I suggest is to get involved in a sport. It would help you emotionally to ge-"

"I do sports." The brunette cut her off again. "I did kick boxing few years ago and I still do jogging quite often."

"I meant a team sport." she paused and once she made sure the young girl wouldn't interrupt, she continued. "I've talked to the coach and there's cheer leading tryouts-"

"I'm not allowed to be in school activities."

"I'm sure the principal could make an exception – especially for you."

The response seemed to shut her up and the traces of irritation disappeared from Miss Watson's face. Unfortunately, now it was Norman's turn.

"Norman, I think you should also try out for sports team-"

"I don't really play sports." he interrupted her, "My mom never really liked them."

Miss Watson sat straight with determination written all over her face, "How about track?" she suggested, "All you need to do is run, and you look like a runner. Ever do any running?"

"Not, as a sport, no," he replied.

"Track team try outs are today, Elly could lead you to coach Carpeenter. I've informed him that you two would come down."

Elena pressed her lips together while Norman nodded dubiously, not completely sure how to feel about it.

"Norman, I see that you lost your dad recently, and I know how hard that must be, so please know that you can come to me if you have any issues."

"O-okay..."

"Norman?" His blue eyes widened; his name wasn't spoken by Miss Watson but by the girl beside him. "Your father passed away?"

He nodded silently as Miss Watson got up and started collecting her things.

The brunette seemed very hesitant before she looked up and her gaze locked with his. "I'm so sorry."

Norman nodded slowly without breaking the sudden connection. He wanted to lock that moment, her expression – her eyes – she seemed so sincere that he didn't doubt her.

"Oh and Elly?" The voice of Miss Watson broke whatever spell had existed a second ago and both students looked at her, still little fazed.

"Happy Birthday."

Uncomfortable:

1) causing discomfort
2) causing embarrassment
3) find yourself being uncomfortable

In her case, the situation was fully described by the third meaning of the definition. Elena was always polite, always talkative, she kind of had to be that way; when you are raised in a wealthy lifestyle where being proper, polite, and having excellent acting skills was the three most vital things Elena was proud to say that she could escape the silence she so much hated.

She hated the silence; the quietness of the room - for her, silence was like a burning fire that was making her flesh rot slowly, like bugs that were trying to crawl into her ears, little voices here and there. No, she couldn't stand the silence but she wasn't fond of having someone babbling into her ear either - like Mrs. Watson for example. Elena would always turn on either the radio, the television, or go as far as to talk out loud in order to trick herself into thinking she wasn't alone.

She started tapping her right leg; a habit when she was either impatient or angry. The boy –Norman – she reminded herself for the fifth time (it wasn't forgotten, she just liked thinking about it, she was such a little liar) turned his eyes sharply on her leg and she immediately stopped the movement.

She tried to avoid looking at him entirely, she had observed him quite a bit in Mrs. Watson's class and she had seen enough; there was something about his eyes (the windows to the soul-that's what Oscar Wilde said) sharp and clear that made her feel a little unease.

For a second she calculated in how much trouble she would get in if she ran right now, maybe she could say she felt sick and couldn't stay, but then Miss. Watson was a woman who always more than a little persistent, if not grouch, regardless of the excuses she was given.

Elena closed her eyes as a soft breeze passed, she had planned on going to the park since it was such a beautiful, sunny, day but it seemed like it was to be postponed. Elena felt a bang of disappointment; she liked sitting in the park watching the children playing. Sometimes she didn't even watch the people passing by, she just listened. Sitting there in the evening, eyes closed and the hot sun orange on her eyelids, she could be anywhere. She could be in the south of Spain, at the beach; she could be in Italy at the Cinque Terre.

The kids would be loud but with enough concentration she could dream: of lonely, exotic journeys, of adventures at the end of the line and beyond. In her head – even currently – she was travelling back to Stowe, Vermont, it was odd to think of it, on moments like this, with such affection, such longing, but she did. The wind in the grass, the big plate sky over the green land, the smell of wood and mud, the house full of candles and the dirt and music. It was like a dream now. She felt her heart beating just a little too fast.

"Mr. Bates, Miss Perrish-"

The spell broke, and her eyes opened.

Miles away in South Dakota, an attractive man in his early 20s sat on the back of his motorcycle in front of a house that had a 'for sale' sign on the lawn; he looked fairly tall - standing at about 5'11 - and had a rugged look that suited finely with his bright blue eyes, sort of tan-ish colored skin, and dark blond hair.

The young man looked hesitantly at his mobile phone before his eyes narrowed and let out a heavy sigh as he dealt the number. He waited for three minutes before he hung up and called the number again when no one answered the first time.

"Hello Dylan."

"Thanks for telling me you moved, Norma." He said sarcastically before taking a sip of beer from the glassy bottle he was holding with his left hand.

"I'm pretty sure the last time we spoke you told me to 'drop dead bitch'. Sorry I took it personally."

His left hand tightened around the bottle. "So you think it's okay not to tell your own kid that you fucking moved? What if I got hurt? What if I was in the hospital? What if I needed you?"

"Are you hurt? Are you in the hospital?" He could hear the flat tone in her voice, and he could almost see her annoyed expression.

Swallowing his pride, his face hardened as he confessed the reason he called. "I need some money. My job fell apart-"

"What happened this time?"

She seemed unimpressed He thought bitterly. "My boss was an asshole and I told him that."

"Always someone else's fault, isn't it, Dylan?"

"Yeah Norma. Maybe it is. Can you just cut the crap and wire me some money?"

There was a long pause before he was greeted by the familiar beeping sound.

Furiously, Dylan threw the bottle of beer and it smashed on the ground with a loud sound.

"Whore" he murmured under his breath as he placed his phone back to his jeans pocket. Immediately he started his motorcycle and took off.

"Norman?"

Norman Bates froze upon hearing the female voice, and soon enough Elena Perrish was standing in front of him.

"Are you done?" she asked innocently, eyeing up and down

He returned her stare and he could see that she was in the same physical state like he was: sweaty and looking exhausted. "Y-yes, so are you." He stuttered a little, trying to catch his breath.

Elena straightened up, looking little confident but still be unable to meet his eyes. "So I was wondering whether you would like to take the bus together."

Norman blinked, "T-the bus?"

"Yeah..." She nodded slowly looking at him little oddly. She turned around and pointed a blue sign that was only little far away from them. "I thought since you're new, you probably wouldn't know the itinerary."

Norman bit his lips; calculating in exactly how much trouble he would get if he was seen with her, how upset mother could possibly get. He quickly decided it wasn't worth the trouble. "I don't k-"

She interrupted him, "It would also save you time."

Norman paused at that and quickly reconsidered, he was certain his mother would already be angry at him for staying after school for the tryouts despite not actually being his fault.

He accepted and Elena awarded him with a shiny smile before they both started treading towards the bus sign.

"So Norman, I hope you realize that you're going to be the talk of the school," She threw him an amusing smirk, "You're the 'mysterious new guy'." she made quotation marks

Norman flushed at that, "Well, you're mysterious too." he told her as they arrived at the bus stop.

She raised an eyebrow at that and was unable to conceal her surprise. "Really?" she asked with a strong amount of doubt in her voice.

Norman shrugged, feeling unsure whether he had offended her. "You carry an air of sadness with a hint of aggressiveness."

Elena pressed her lips together and took her time to respond, "It's not a subject for a chit-chat."

At that his eyes widened a little and he turned away from her. It became obvious that he had screwed things up.

Soon enough the bus arrived and Norman suddenly remembered that he couldn't actually get in the bus. "Wait, I don't have a ticket," he told Elena quietly

She rolled her eyes at that and she hesitantly took a step closer to him, her mouth close to his ear, her breath hitting his cheek. "No one checks about tickets nowadays, come on." She grabbed his arm firmly and pushed him in the bus.

The moment they set their foot inside the bus, it started right away. Norman looked around nervously; there weren't a lot of people in the vehicle and everyone seemed to be minding their own business. Norman was hoping he would continue going unnoticed.

A small tag on his sleeve made him turn around and he found himself face to face with Elena. "Calm down," she told him, "you'll be home in no time." She assured him.

Norman nodded but he wasn't paying a lot of attention, the minutes passed by too slowly and it seemed as if the bus was taking forever to restart after it paused at every bus stop.

"I'm sorry about before," he heard Elena apologizing to him out of the blue. "It's just that I'm a little angry at Miss Watson for talking to the couch without my permission."

Norman found himself agreeing with her, the older woman already gave him a bad vibe as if-

"...she puts her nose in people's business." Elena's voice suddenly hit him and he was suddenly aware that they were still supposed to be talking. "How did you go to the tryouts?"

"Fine," Norman smiled at the change of subject, "They actually want me to be part of the team."

Elena laughed a little, "You sound so surprise."

"I guess I didn't see it coming. What about you? You tried cheerleading, right?"

A sigh escape from her and her once happy expression turned little sore, "yeah..."

"Very satisfied, I see." He confirmed dryly

"It's not that I'm not glad I have a chance to be part of the whole 'school team spirit' it's just that I know my dad won't be pleased with it. He can be quite protective sometimes."

Norman nodded sympathetically, "That's how mother is, she cares so much that-"

"She can become overbearing?" Elena completed and when he didn't answer she noticed how tense he had suddenly become.

Norman felt the sudden need to protest, "It's because our parents love us." He didn't know about Elena's father, but Norman knew that while his mother wasn't perfect, she also wasn't a bad person. She was a good mother, little impulsive but nevertheless loving.

"The issue isn't whether they love us, it's how much. Too much love can be poison."

Norman looked thoughtfully but before he could comment Elena informed him that it was time for her to go.

"This is my stop," she told him as the bus slowed down at the stop. "I guess I'll see you around."

Before he could say anything, she was gone.