My tights, now torn and splashed with blood, odd rips over my legs. A cut, centred on my inner thigh, once gushing with blood was now covered in scrunched-up tissue. My leather black, pencil skirt, slowly climbing my hips, threatening to expose me to the world. My white blouse, previously tucked into my skirt, now flowed over with a decoration made of blood. The first five buttons pulled off, exposing a majority of my cleavage. The sleeved rolled up to my elbows, showing my freshly tanned skin, with a coating of dried blood. My hair now dishevelled, stands escaping my hairband and hairpins to tickle around my neck. I scrubbed harder on the tiled floor, physically paining my arm as I did. Mascara stained my cheeks, my eyes stung from the running mascara. My velvet red lipstick smudged across my cheeks.
"Fuck!" I snapped, pulling my arms back to cradle my own body, numbing any pain I was able. My hands, my fingers, in particular, stung painfully. My hands, once adored by acrylic nails, were now outlined with blood and full of dried glue. Dried blood decorated my hands, staining between each finger. Norma, latest murderer and newest owner, walked through the door. Her teenage son following, both froze in their steps upon seeing me.
"I, I thought I'd get a head start" I stuttered out, looking up at her with a weary look. My legs bounced, hands trembled and breath came out in quick pants. Adrenalin was fueling this cleaning spree, one that was in another woman's house. That sentence satisfied the mother, who grabbed her own scrub of the side and knelt down beside me.
"I'm Lindy Montgomery," I introduced with a heavy pant, returning to scrubbing alongside the woman. What can I say? My life seems to always end with me involved in something illegal.
"Hey..." I greeted, stepping out of the Bates bathroom with a towel wrapped around my bare and wet body. Looking to Mrs Bates, her son's sudden stare being slightly uncomfortable. Especially under the circumstances.
"Oh Lindy," Norma replied her tone unnervingly calm, her posture stark straight. I forced a weak, short smile, finally meeting Norman gaze. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through my body and soul.
"I need, new clothes" I softly let out, "mine are sort of... a mess!" I added gently. Cradling the towel to my body, feeling the hair that clung to my neck.
"Oh, yes sorry dear" Norma released quickly, rushing away without another word. Leaving me with her son... her creepy son.
"I'm sorry" Norman finally spoke, breaking the awkward tension that hung like a fog in the hallway. I looked back at him, finally realised how innocent and true he was. The boy looked gaunt, his pale skin looked green. He looked drained, emotionally and physically.
"Me too" I replied softly, offering a weak, temporary smile. "And thanks, for stopping him" I finally thanked. Remembering a little of the boys help.
"No problem, happy to" Norman mumbled, his mother suddenly re-emerged with a handful of clothes. I offered a small smile, accepting the clothes from the old-styled woman.
"It's getting late," Norma stated, glancing at a window to the darkness of outside. "There's a spare room, down the hall, you can use it to change or stay the night" she offered kindly. Though I could tell why she had. She wanted to be able to chat, tomorrow, tell me not to spill. Not that I would. I'm involved now.
"I don't think that's a good idea, I'm gonna head back to my motel" I deadpanned seriously, this was uncomfortable enough.