I killed a man today.
I hadn't meant to. It was an accident. As I sit on the rough wooden floor of the boat that had once sat on the roof of the Hotel Denouement, but now sailed away from said hotel, the flames that licked at that once proud hotel at my back, I feel my chest begin to ache. My brother, sister, and I were murderers and arsonists and many other things. We kept telling ourselves and each other that we would do those horrible things to get away from Count Olaf, the wiry villain who stood at the helm, but now we had voluntarily gone with the despicable man, leaving behind what could have been our salvation of we had only waited another day.
Thursday. The day held so much hope for us a day ago when Kit Snicket informed us of what was to happen at the Hotel Denouement. We would meet up with other V.F.D. members and we would be free of Count Olaf for good. The sweet Jerome Squalor had comprised a book of all the heinous deeds Olaf had performed in order to get his hands on the fortune we had inherited from our parents, after he had set fire to our house, killing our parents. Olaf, not Jerome. But in one day's work at the hotel, my brother and I had made things worse. That bratty little girl, Carmella Spats had demanded a harpoon gun and much to my dismay, I had to deliver one to her, acting as a concierge. Then my brother laid out a long sheet of flypaper, or 'birdpaper' as Ernest one of the managers called it, to catch the birds as they were harpooned from the sky, one of them carrying a most important sugar bowl. Why it was so important was beyond the three of us.
Then Olaf, last night, more accurately, early this morning, had demanded that Dewey Denouement, the third in the Denouement triplets, hand over the sugar bowl. Ernest, the evil brother, and Frank, the good brother were the managers at the hotel. Olaf had the harpoon gun, two harpoons left in the dangerous device, aimed at Dewey as Justice Strauss, Jerome, three of Olaf's minions he had picked up from the circus, and my siblings and I looked on. Mr. Poe had come downstairs at the most inopportune time, coughing loudly, the sound echoing in the large hall, startling everyone. Olaf had shoved the heavy gun into our hands in an attempt to get rid of it. It was too heavy and too sudden for us to get a good hold on it and it slipped from our hands, going off without warning, running poor Dewey Denouement through. We followed the stumbling, dying Dewey out of the lobby and down to the pond, where Dewey fell in, his eyes wide with pain. My siblings as I tried to pull Dewey from the water, making promises of his survival that we could not keep. As the man we murdered began to slip beneath the glassy surface of the pond, he struggled to whisper one word: "Kit", before he disappeared completely and out of our grasp.
As I sit on the rough wooden planks of the boat, my dark hair tied back with the ribbon Kit Snicket had given me, the wheels in my mind clicked suddenly as I figured out why Dewey's last word was 'Kit'. "They were in love," I whisper softly, tears pooling up in my eyes, only to slip down my pale cheeks.
"What, Violet?" my brother, Klaus asks from a few feet away.
"Dewey and Kit were in love," I reply, my watery gaze meeting his.
"How do you figure?" Klaus asks, cocking his head of dark, shaggy hair to the side.
"Dewey's last word was 'Kit'. Surely he was not asking for a sewing kit or something like that. He was calling Kit Snicket's name. Even though she couldn't hear him."
"They could have just been good friends."
"Platonic," Sunny spoke up from beside Klaus, a word which used here means, 'a relationship which is intimate and affectionate but not sexual'.
"No. The child Kit is carrying is Dewey's. I know it," I say, sniffling slightly. "We've killed an unborn child's father."
"The harpoon gun went off when it hit the floor. It wasn't our fault," Klaus tries to reassure me, touching my shoulder.
"La Forza del Destino," Sunny says softly, meeting my eyes.
"Sunny's right. It's just like in the opera, mother and father went to see. When the lights
go out and a gun falls to the floor, accidentally going off, killing someone," Klaus nods, patting Sunny's arm proudly.
"We should have been more careful. We should have held on tighter," I cry softly, tears spilling down my cheeks.
"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," Sunny sighs, sitting down in Klaus' lap, leaning her head on his chest sadly.
"Do...do you think we'll see the Quagmire triplets again?" Klaus asks in a low voice, looking out at the ocean.
I turn to face my brother, an incredulous look on my face. "How can you ask such a thing? Dewey is dead because of us! Kit's child will have to grow up without a father! We're trapped on a boat with the man we hate more than anything, who hates us in kind!"
'In kind' used here means, 'in the same way', meaning that Olaf hated the Baudelaires as much as they hated him. Klaus' eyes meet mine for a moment and I watch as his cheeks redden. "It was just a question. They're like us. Orphans that a villain wants to use to get their enormous fortune. We're in the same boat," Klaus spoke softly.
"What are you orphans whispering on about?" came the voice of the very villain Klaus spoke of, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the roar of the wind.
Raising my eyes to meet his, I reply, "Nothing," before turning away, planning to ignore him as much as I could. My heart feels like its raw and bleeding, the guilt I feel for causing something so horrible digging deep into my soul. I hate the feeling so much, I feel sick, but I do not act on my nausea, for it is not real. It's all in my mind and my heart.
As I sit on the rough wooden deck of the boat, I wonder if I'll ever find home again.