Chapter One, Bella POV
"Lizzie Borden had an axe,
Gave her mother forty whacks.
When she realized what she'd done?
She gave her father forty-one."
"Lizzie Borden's story shocked the country – how could a sweet, wholesome girl commit such gruesome and vile crimes? Killing her own flesh and blood with an axe? Questions like these swirled around everyone's head at the time. Evidence was there; not physical, but it all came together to make sense. So why was she innocent instead of guilty?
"The hot day of August 4, 1892, proved to begin as normally as possible. Lizzie's step-mother was at home, and her father was at work. But something was off – whether it be in the air, or merely a crazy twitch in Lizzie's mind, she had the impulse to kill. While her mother was fixing the sheets in the guest bedroom, Lizzie snuck up, carrying a hatchet, and continued to brutally slaughter her stepmother. Later, after her father arrived home and was stretched out for a nap, Lizzie killed him with the same murder weapon.
"Lizzie, in the shockingly low time frame of ten minutes, managed to remove any blood from her hair, stockings, and even the axe. At some point, she burned the dress that she wore and thought up a cover story.
"Lizzie was trialed, and released as innocent. It was a surprise to many – it wasn't a secret that she detested her stepmother, and even her own father. He, after he married Abby, took Lizzie and her sister, Emma, out of his will, depriving them of any money and property that they would have aqui-"
"Time."
I cursed under my breath at my long-windedness, and slumped into the super-cozy couch that took up most of my living room. "I'm never gonna finish this in time, Jazz. The project is due in two days, and…" I trailed off, sighing. I loved English and History, don't get me wrong, but seriously. What was the point of this project?
Jasper Hale, the best friend I'd had in my not so great history of friends, sat down next to me, stretching out his feet to the end of the couch, and laying his head on my lap. I didn't mind this kind of behavior – I knew Jasper liked me, and, honestly, I kind of liked him, too. Jazz was incredibly handsome – with honey blonde hair that was long-ish and fell into his vibrant blue eyes. He was tall, lean, and muscular, one of the nicest guys in the world.
Jasper and I had been friends since he moved in next door over ten years ago. As we got older, we would sneak out on the roof and just sit there, star gazing. We still do, sometimes, but, mostly, we just go out and have fun. He told me liked me a couple of weeks ago – I had a hard saying that I wanted to be just friends, but he accepted with grace.
"You'll be fine, Bella. Seriously. You're, like, the most ideal student there is," Jasper said in his weakening Southern accent, looking up at me through his lashes. He was only partly right, though. I was a good student – I had a four point oh GPA, and I tutored, and helped the teachers after school. But…I wasn't ideal. Everybody expected me to be perfect, to be the "A" plus student that they could easily cheat off. I wasn't, though – I was as plain Jane, as the plainest person in the world, and had my share of personal experiences – not all great, either.
I sighed again, leaning my head against the back of the sofa. "I don't know, Jasper. My oral is such a mess, and the report is only half typed…" I began a mental list of all the things I needed to get done: the oral, the report, the pictures, my math homework, cooking dinner, doing the dishes…
"Bella, stop thinking of all the things you need to do. It'll only stress you out more." Jasper could read my emotions pretty clearly, and had a knack of calming me down – or anyone for that matter. He could especially tell when I was stressed – apparently, I scrunched my nose and bit my nails.
I didn't buy it, though, nope. Not for one second.
"I'm not stressing out." I said firmly. Jasper snorted and rolled his eyes.
I sighed in defeat.
"Fine, then. What do you propose that I do?" There wasn't much to do considering the rain was falling too hard outside to go anywhere, and we – Jazz and I – didn't have many friends besides each other.
"I propose…that you go to dinner with me this Friday," Jasper smiled brilliantly, looking up at me through his lashes. This was something, in the back of my mind, that I was expecting. Him asking me out was such an inside joke between us, and so inevitable. He always knew the answer, anyway.
"Yes. If I can bring my imaginary friend, Meredith the Elephant,"
"I didn't know that elephants could be named Meredith. I always assumed Dumbo, or Jumbo, or…"
"Funbo?"
There was a moment of pause as he considered this.
Finally, he said, "Yes. Funbo." I snickered, Jasper laughing lightheartedly along with me, flashing his extremely white teeth.
But our fun-fest stopped abruptly when the front door opened, allowing thick droplets of rain and icy wind to blow through the open door. Jasper immediately moved to the other end of the couch, taking a rigid and formal pose. I sighed and started organizing my notes on the coffee table.
"Hello, Isabella, Jasper," my mother, Renee, said as she walked into the living room, her clothes dripping with fresh rain drops. She smiled elegantly – something my mother hadn't been capable of doing before she married Phil – and took off her wet jacket.
The one thing that annoyed me about my mother is that…she was different. Once she married Phil, it was like my outgoing, scatterbrained, life-loving mother didn't exist anymore. Phil had such an influence on her, and not necessarily for the better. When it was just the two of us, Renee and I, it was me who acted as the adult and her who was always trying new things, always getting into stuff that could potentially scar her for life. But when Renee was with Phil, it was a different story. She was somehow more grown-up, more independent. We just didn't connect the way we used to.
The other thing is that she insisted everyone to call me Isabella, my true name. Before she married Phil, the rich, handsome man that every girl in the room swooned over, she called me Bella. But now, she's so elegant. So formal and proper. She even made Jasper start calling me Isabella; my own best friend!
"Hey, Renee," I said in monotone, without looking up from my notes. I didn't even bother calling her "mom" anymore. She wasn't my mom – my mom was fun, and happy, and didn't need a guy to give that to her. My mom wasn't so freaking reserved.
"Hey, kids." And then Phil came into the picture.
Phil was a nice guy, for the most part. Good-looking, caring, affectionate. He truly loved Renee, and she truly loved him. He didn't quite care for me so much, though. It never went as far as abuse, but there were a few intense verbal confrontations. Renee didn't know about these - as far as she was concerned, Phil and I got along together great.
Phil also had a lot of money, all of which went straight to Renee, which is the exact reason that my mother went all prim and proper.
Prim, proper, and mean. Renee practically shunned me now – having kids was way over-rated, I guess.
"Phil," I said curtly. From my peripheral vision, I saw Jasper nod vaguely in his direction, frowning. Jasper hated seeing me like this – less Bella-like, and more Isabella-like.
"So, Isabella, what's for dinner?" Renee's voice echoed in from the kitchen, and I heard some pots and pans being moved around.
"Pizza," I answered languidly. "It's in the oven, staying warm. And I'll be in my room, studying."
Jasper stood up and gathered his things, walking up the stairs to my small and almost useless bedroom. I was about to follow when Phil stopped me. "Isabella." He said, grabbing my arm. It wasn't a friendly gesture. "I'd prefer it if Jasper didn't stay. No boys should be in my daughter's room." Venom coated his voice, and I shuddered.
"Yes, sir," There was no use in arguing with him when Renee was in the house – she would blame it all on me. Her stupid mistake child, her kid that couldn't do anything right.
Whatever.
I shrugged out of Phil's grasp and walked slowly up the stairs, flipping idly through my notebook. Jasper was already in my room when I made it in a minute later, lounging on my tiny bed. I fell down next to him, huffing and sighing loudly.
"Sorry, Jazz. You got to go. Mr. Big-Shot says so." I said, turning to face him. His face was a serene mask of calm, a slight smile lifting his lips, and his eyes were closed.
"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled lightly and sat up, straightening his hair. "So…I'll see you Friday, right? With Meredith. Dinner, just the three of us." Jasper walked over to the door and opened it without breaking eye contact with me.
I smiled widely and nodded, getting up and giving him a hug. "See you, Bells," he said as he shut the door behind him and left. I listened as the door front door creaked open, then shut, and, from my window, I watched him walk along the sidewalk until he was out of sight.
Then I was truly alone.
No one likes being alone. Sure, people say they do, but, really. Who wants to be shunned, who wants to be completely ignored in society? No one, not even me. But, of course, with Phil, it just wasn't possible to have a real family dinner. Or even act like a real family for that matter. Renee and Phil ignored me for the rest of the night, and, without Jazz, I was just stuck in my room.
Every night was like this, though. I think I was actually going slightly insane.
I sighed and started going through my notes again, my thoughts drifting from Jasper to Lizzie Borden and her tale.
Actually, her story sounded like mine, in a psychotic and twisted way. A marriage, a hatred. Crazy thoughts taking over the mind. And as I started to type on my second rate laptop, I couldn't shake those crazy thoughts.
Images of me slaughtering Renee and Phil, of blood splattering on the ceiling and on me, of Jasper finding out. The pictures haunted me as I wrote out Lizzie's story with a bizarrely detailed description, sending a shudder through me. Only this time, it wasn't a shudder of fear, like with Phil.
It was one of anticipation.
XXX
Ta dah! Isn't it absoluetly horrible?
Yeah, thought so. I don't know why I bother posting anymore. Everything I write is just getting worse and worse...sigh.
I know this is really bad, but I'm really excited writing it. And...I didn't want to keep it to myself. So, yeah.
I'm also writing another fic, and will be posting that soon, along with the next chapter of Paper Walls.
Oh. A quick note - I will be writing some...darker things in the very near future on this fic. So I purposely wrote this chapter as a really silly and quirky one. Just to let you know.
But, maybe if you reivew, I'll return the favor. I'm in the mood to read some good fics. :D\
Elli