The bells rang loud and clear through the halls and rooms. My peers jumped, raced, and tackled each other in a mad rush to get to the door. After a long dragging week, Christmas vacation had finally begun.
My name is Rita Corleone. Unlike my classmates, I was not as eager to leave. My parents were in Mississippi for the winter. My grandmother's lungs were giving her trouble again, (she smokes). I, on the other hand, was stuck at home with my Aunt Leona.
I gently pulled my red and white cap over my long curly, black hair. Standing, I collected my books.
"Goodbye, . Have nice vacation." I called to my teacher, who was hunched at her desk, grading last minute papers.
"Oh, goodbye Rita. Enjoy your vacation as well." She said, raising her head to smile at me. I smiled back, and then left. I walked down the halls, book in hand, thinking about what I might do over break. I could go skate boarding at the rink with Kat. Or I could make a snow fort and write a book report. I liked the first one better.
As I stepped out onto the pad at the front of the two story brick building that was my school, I got a cold chill. I don't know if was from the wind, or just my self- conscious, but I did not like that feeling. Not at all.
I began to walk along the sidewalk, in the direction of my house. I don't live too far from the school, but far enough that with the bitter cold that was in the air as of now, it was a misery trip. I began to walk in silence as I thought about all the things I'd rather do than stay with my aunt for two weeks.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost missed the driveway to my home. I turned down the dirt path, scolding myself for not paying attention. I stepped through the front door in the first hall of my house, and my aunt Leona came around the corner to greet me.
"Hi hon. How are you?" She asked with a white toothed smile.
"I'm doing great, thanks for asking" I replied. I didn't necessarily like my aunt Leona, too many fond memories of her pinching my cheeks. But I respect her nonetheless. I may not like her, but she's still my elder.
She reached out and took my books, so I could take off my scarf and coat. She took them into the kitchen with her.
"What's for dinner?" I hollered.
"Pasta." She called back. I grimaced. My aunt was tolerable, but her cooking was not. She saw my face and laughed. "Don't worry. It's from a can."
"It's okay. I'm not that hungry."
"Suit yourself. I think it tastes great."
"Your taste buds are six feet under." I muttered. "I'm gonna go read."
I reached out and hugged her. I didn't care for her, but I still loved her. I picked up my books off the counter and went to my room. I kicked off my shoes and flopped on my bed. I pulled out Frankenstein and started to read.
I opened my eyes and looked around. My clock said 11:04PM. I must've dozed off while I was reading. I closed my book and sat up. Hopping off my bed, I shed my shirt and changed into my pajamas.
I went and sat down in front of my mirror. I picked up my hairbrush and began to pull it through my tangled hair. One of the worst things about curls? They get knotted up real easy. I sat there for a good ten minutes fighting with them. When I was finished, I climbed under the covers of my bed. I closed my eyes, and in moments I was asleep.
Scratch, scratch. I opened my eyes. Scratch, scratch. I sat up and looked around. When I saw nothing, I laid back down. I looked over at my clock, or at least, where my clock should've been. I sat up again and gazed about the room. I stopped when I saw my clock by the door. It was moving back and forth, as if something behind the door was pulling at the cord. The vibrant glow from the monitor was gone, leaving the screen dark.
I slipped out from beneath my covers and padded to the door. Bracing myself, I pulled the door. I sighed at what I saw. It was not a monster waiting to drag me to my death, but my cat, Milo, was pulling and swatting at the plug in.
"You stupid cat. Almost gave me a heart attack." I scolded, picking him up. I lifted my alarm clock off of the carpet, and put it on my desk. I took Milo downstairs and locked him in the basement.
"Dumb cat." I said, kicking the door. I went back upstairs. Walking back, I thought about the cold. Then I remembered the furnace. He would go under there if he got there if he got chilled.
I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me. I picked up my clock and plugged it back in. The red, fluorescent glow restarted on the monitor. It said it was 12:32AM. Great. Just great. Nothing like starting your vacation with a sleepless night. Whatever. I'd sleep in about a dozen times before the end of break.
I gently lifted my covers off of the floor. I'd thrown them off when I got out of bed, to go get that stupid feline. I settled back into bed. I wondered how Milo had managed to pull my clock off my desk, out into the hallway, and close the door behind him. I sighed and closed my eyes; I could figure it out in the morning. Gosh, I was tired. I closed my eyes and slipped into a quiet sleep.
I woke up the next morning covered in snow. Of course, I didn't notice this until I rolled face first into it. I gasped as the wet substance coated my skin. Startled by the sudden freezing sensation in my face, I jumped. Right out of my bed and onto the floor. I hit the wood based carpet with a thud. My hairbrush fell off of the desk and onto my head.
"Rita?" My aunt yelled up the stairs, "What's going on up there?"
"Nothing!" I yelled back, "I'll be down in a minute!" My blankets had come with me when I fell off my bed. I pulled my cover off me and yelped as frost fell onto my bare legs. Rolling my eyes I stood up, threw my blanket back onto my bed and frowned. How did snow get in my room? As this thought came to me, a cold breeze flowed up my arm. I looked over at my window, which was wide open. I leaned over and shut it. Who opened my window? I didn't do it. Maybe my aunt came up and opened it? I would ask her. But not now. I went into the bathroom, pulled a towel out of the cabinet, and took a long, hot shower.
When I got out, I changed into sweat pants, and a baggy grey T-shirt. I went downstairs to find my aunt Leona in the kitchen. There were pancakes on the table and bacon on the countertop.
"Um….." I couldn't decide whether or not I should eat it.
My aunt looked up and, sensing my discomfort, said to me, "They were both pre-cooked. I only heated them up."
Sighing with relief, I took a piece of bacon and stuck it in my mouth. Looking out the window, I saw that freezing rain and sleet was coming in a downpour. I sighed, so much for skating.
"Hey, why don't you come shopping with me?" My aunt offered, "You can't skate today."
"Yeah, um, no thanks." I said. I turned and went into the living room. I sat down on the couch and clicked on the TV. I changed the channel to history, and was lost in an interesting speech about The Civil War.
"Rita, I'll be back later okay?" My aunt was stuffing her wallet in her purse.
"Hmm?" I mumbled
"I said I will be back later. Okay?"
"Yeah sure. What time is it?"
"3 o'clock."
"No it can't be that late."
"It is honey."
"Time flies when you watch history."
"Yep. Bye."
"See ya'." My aunt walked out the door. How that woman could survive in the cold I do not know.
I turned my attention back to the television. It had switched to a documentary about Pearl Harbor. I watched for a moment, then I heard it. A growl. A very strange growl. I looked wasn't coming from inside the house, so I turned to look out the window. As soon as my eye caught the oak tree in the backyard, the growling stopped. I held my vision on the back tree. Something was behind it. A black shape, almost like a dog, darted out from behind the tree and out of sight. I continued to stare out into the yard. I resisted the urge to go get the Winchester out of the cellar and looked back at the TV. What was that thing? Whatever, I probably wouldn't go outside until break was over. I turned back to the TV. Picking up the remote, I clicked off the television, and turned to look at the rest of the house. It was a mess. Shoes were strewn throughout the hallway, food was still on the table, and I was scared to look upstairs. I stood and folded the blanket I had been using. I needed something to occupy my mind. Taking a deep breath, I started to clean.
I settled down into a chair in the kitchen. I had just spent four hours scrubbing, scouring, and holding my breath as the noxious cleaning chemicals came from the spray bottle. But, alas, the counters were clean, the dishes were done and you could quite possibly eat off of the floor. In the living room, animal hair had been removed from the couches, the carpet was scrubbed, the knick knacks were dusted, and Milo the cat licked his paws with a clean kitty bed, a fresh litter box and a full food bowl. Upstairs I'd made beds, vacuumed floors, picked up clothes, done laundry, and cleaned out under the magazine rack in the bathroom (it surprised me how much junk could get shoved under there). The trash had been taken out as well and the bags replaced. The house was now sparkling clean and smelled like roses (not really, it smelled like bleach). My aunt had not yet returned from her little shopping spree, leaving me alone at the house.
I sat in silence. I could not stop thinking about what I saw in the yard. It was too big to be the Gunderson's beagle, too small to be the Kechers Irish wolfhound. So what was it? The thought hovered in my head until I heard the door open.
My aunt came around the corner with a smile, "Well, this place is just shining isn't it?"
I smiled at her, "I got bored."
"I can see that. I'm sorry I took so long, the roads were blocked off. You want some dinner?"
"Sure."
"What do you want?"
"Anything with bacon."
"We had bacon for breakfast."
"Bacon is meat candy. It never gets old."
"Alright, help me will you."
"Yes ma'am." Me and my aunt set to work on cooking. The house wasn't clean for very long, but it was fun making a mess with my aunt. Before too long we had produced bacon, eggs, and cheese all in one platter. I sat down and ate a nice dinner with my family member, and actually enjoyed a conversation. We talked about school, grades, and embarrassingly, boys. When we were finished, she helped me return the house to the masterpiece it was before we ate. After we cleaned up my aunt looked at me, "I got some movies at the store. You wanna watch one?"
"What movies?" I asked. She went and picked through her purse, which was big enough to fit an entire computer set.
No literally, that thing was huge. I could only stare as she pulled various items and necessities out of it and set them on the floor. A comb, three books, a soda, a sub sandwich, Chap Stick, a makeup bag, a can of Lysol, feminine products, hair bands, her wallet, glasses case, a pair of flats, a tank top, and a freaking wig. My aunt wasn't even bald and she had a wig in her purse. That's not creepy at all. At last she produced the movies Jennifer's Body, Splice, and The Exorcist. I picked The Exorcist, and before too long we were curled up on the couch scaring the crap out of ourselves. When the movie was over my aunt tucked me into bed, which was strange since I was fourteen. She said some nice things, and then I fell asleep.
I gasped and sat up. A large crash came from downstairs. I stared at my door, my heart pounding. Should I go downstairs? Were we being robbed? Without a second thought I leaped from my bed and rushed downstairs. Halfway down the steps, I turned and went to my aunt's room. I crept up beside the bed and spoke in my most demanding whisper.
"Aunt Leona! Leona!" I reached for the lamp and turned on the light. I threw my hand over my mouth and muffled a sob at what I saw. Blood stained the white, satin sheets. My aunt had been drug from her bed. I turned and went back out to the hall and down the steps. This time, as I ran down the steps, I noticed dark stains on the caramel colored carpet.
I came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and was hit by a rush of cold air. I had not realized I was crying until the wind nearly froze my soggy cheeks. I didn't care though, what I cared about was the fact that the kitchen was a bloody mess. A dark red trail glided across the floor, through an array of broken dishes and overturned chairs. I stared where the blood trail ended, my breath caught in my throat. On the front porch steps was a body. I didn't need to look at it to know who it was. I knew. It was my aunt. Instead of rushing to her side and checking her pulse I jumped over a chair and grabbed the phone from the floor, where it had been thrown.
I dialed the number I wanted and got an immediate answer, "Marin County Police Department, how may I help you?"
"M-m-my aunt," I stuttered over the words, "I-I think some ones in my house."
"Is anyone there with you?"
"No, well, my aunt, but she's dead."
"Address?"
"4456 Civil Road."
"Find a weapon and a place to hide, we'll be there soon." They hung up. I squeezed the phone so hard my fingers turned white. I let out a feeble, little laugh. My aunt was dead, someone or something killed her, and now I was standing here laughing and crying like a delusional lunatic because my conscience was currently being traumatized. What a mental image.
I stood still and wept until I heard it. That same inhumane growl I heard the other day in the yard. I looked up and froze. Something was crouched by the Christmas tree, and it wasn't Santa Claus.
The growl echoed again, louder this time. The creature stepped into the luminescent glow of the pale moon. My heart skipped a beat. The horror that stood before was an ugly twisted thing. Its face was upraised by sharp teeth, the twisted mangles on the floor resembled feet, but I really couldn't tell, and its body was lowly crouched, waiting to pounce. I stared. It lunged. I was frozen as time seemed to slow down. Then it sped up again and I was running down the narrow walkway along the sink between the counter and the table. I ran as fast as I could, but that wasn't fast enough. It tackled me and I screamed. I rolled onto my back and wailed like tiger near fire. Its teeth sank into me and its claws drug down my belly, slicing my skin to ribbons. My screams reduced to gurgles, and my blood flowed up from my throat to my mouth and past my lips. After a while the thing left. The last thing I heard was the sirens blaring, and the last thing I saw was a flashlight on my face. Then lights slowly faded.
A dark never ending valley spread out before me. Where was I? It was cold. I was cold. But I felt good. Something felt good. Death. Death felt good. Was I happy? I hoped I was happy. I was dead, I should be happy.
December 24, 2012
Leona Moors body was found on the front steps of her family's ranch at 5 am Wednesday morning, intestines torn out. At 5:05 am the same day a mutilated body identified as Rita Corleone in the kitchenette of the home. Due to mutilation, it is unknown what killed her. The coroner's best guess was a wolf. When the killer is identified however, it will be on 10 o'clock morning news. Merry Christmas!