Emily closed her eyes, her feet barely touching the ground of her porch. She gingerly moved her body, swinging in respect of her swing. Back and forth, her body went, but her thoughts, the thoughts of her past, her present, and maybe even her future, all blended together in one swift motion. Her madness, her anger, triumphs over all else. Her heart, once soft and gentle, had turned into stone.
If she was any ordinary person, she would have been locked up in an asylum by now. She knew that signs of a psychopath were there; she's a pathological liar, an excellent one at that. She wanted to destroy almost everyone that is someone in this God forsaken place. She would never kill of course, at least not directly. Death to her was too easy; she wanted them to live as they suffer. She didn't want to show any mercy, as they once did to her father.
Her mind then traveled to one man. She couldn't believe how his presence had calmed her mind, her body. With him, all thoughts of revenge were gone. Her madness, her mission disappeared whenever he smiled. She knew that he loved her. From the way he looked at her, the way he does whenever he thinks she wasn't looking, made her smile.
She pressed her eyes tighter as she conjured up his image. His eyes, his dark, brown eyes, shone whenever he was around her. His body, warm to the touch, made her own skin burn. Whenever she's around him, she can smell his cologne. It was so strong, so boyish, so expensive, drew her to him. She remembered the way he wrapped his arms around her as she buried her head into his chest. He towered over her; she remembered how he placed his chin on the top of her head. She hated that; it bothered her, even pained her just a little. But she didn't complain; she did not want to ruin their perfect moment.
Her heart began to ache. His presence, his very being, was her only salvation here in the Hamptons. He had an extra key to her house, something Emily knew she should have never done. Every neuron in her body warned her against that act; it was too dangerous, too trusting, too Amanda.
Amanda.
A sigh escaped her lips as she conjured up her true identity. Her childhood, so perfect, so happy, was all taken away in a second. She remembered how her father had held at her at this exact spot every weekend. He held her closely as they both gazed out into the empty space, not really quite sure what they were looking for. Emily, or Amanda, pressed herself closer to her father when the sun began to set over the horizon. It began to chill, and she felt goose bumps rising onto the surface of her skin. Her father did not felt her shiver. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was in a trance like state. His body was unmoving, his breath was steady. She gazed up at her father, too in trance of his handsome face. She admired her father; he was the perfect balance of a true man- kind, gentle, handsome, and an excellent cook.
The memory disappeared as easily as it came. Emily opened her eyes, and felt tears streaming down her pale, white skin. She didn't realize that she was crying this whole time. Embarrassed, as if everyone, or anyone, was watching her, she wiped her tears with her sleeve.
The sun beyond the horizon began to show hints of yet another perfect day in the Hamptons. Emily had lost the track of time. How long has she been out here? Three hours? Four perhaps? She sighed, letting her legs stretch just in front of her. She pushed herself off the swing. Her feet were unsteady at first, but she quickly regained her balance.
The chimes in the corner startled her. It's going to be a windy day, she thought. Emily moved from her swing and onto the front of her porch. She leaned against the white, expensive wood with her arms crossed.
The waves of the ocean began to pick up. The birds, picking up from the ocean's energy, began to fly. Like a domino effect, Emily could feel all the activities around her pick up. She knew that only a few people would be awake by now, but nature had another plan in mind.
Emily looked over, and saw the Grayson Manor looming only a distance away. She could see that someone, maybe even Victoria herself, watching her from her own porch. She squinted her eyes, trying to confirm that it was truly Victoria, the woman who started it all. But her eyes gave away, and the figure, as if she, or he, knew that Emily was watching, disappeared behind the glass entrance.
She shook her head, already wary of the day. The sun had finish rising, and Emily could see every inch of her property. She knew that she couldn't stay out here a moment too long. Today was too important of a day. Everything she planned on depended on her to finish this. She had too, even though a part of her said otherwise.
Emily made her way to the door. She reached for the handle and opened the door, but she did not make her way inside. She paused for a moment, and looked passed her shoulder, passed Hamptons, passed everything.
"I'm sorry."