You Are My Sunshine
A knife clattered to the floor as blood-stained hands shook wildly, a look of absolute terror and glee in a young girl's eyes, as she stepped away from the body she had stabbed, a pool of blood slowly inching its way towards the door. The water still ran from the tap where her father had been doing the dishes, now he lay on the floor, still and unmoving, his eyes blank. There were multiple stab wounds inflicted in his chest where the knife had penetrated and sunk through his skin, and sudsy water was making its way down the side of the sink, wetting the already bloodied floor. "I did it," she whispered, her usual bright and vibrant violet eyes turning into a bleak and blank look of elation, void of any colour. "I killed him! I finally killed you!" Throwing her head back, the A-ranked honour student screeched and exploded into a fit of cold laughter, her eyes now as small and as wide as saucers, her mouth open as she brought her hands to her chest in a claw-like motion, as voices were heard outside, and the neighbours called the police.
She had never been unstable.
To everyone in her class and her neighbourhood, Hinata Hyuga was a quiet, calm and dedicated girl who went to night classes after school, studied hard, and always achieved A's in every single subject, and who was also a representative of the Student Committee; always happy to help out anyone who needed her advice. But inside the girl who hardly talked in class, and who was reserved towards men in particular, harboured manic feelings. Her father was the cause of them. When she was little, he had hurt her and abused her frequently, telling her that she "was never good enough," and that she "would never amount to anything." Every night she crawled into bed with purple and blue bruises all over her body, tears streaming down her face as she cradled her doll with sewed, button-eyes, and a thin red line serving as lips upon her face while lying on her side, facing the wall. At first, Hinata had fabricated voices to help her through every night, but they never helped, never could do anything. She still did her studying and homework, even through primary school, hiding her legs through black stockings and her arms through her long white-sleeved shirts, and her thighs underneath the girls' skirt for her uniform. No-one hardly noticed, though a few of the children commented that it was a little odd that even through summer she wore long sleeves. Even through middle school, she still did the same tactic – keeping up appearances at school to cover the brutality she encountered at home from her own flesh and blood.
She had no friends during middle school and she didn't need them. She had Yuki-chan, and she was her best friend, the only inanimate object who she would ever feel safe; her doll. It was somewhere through her second year at high school when her thoughts turned murderous. She had suffered for too long. Her mother, wasn't safe from her father's turmoil – she too, had been beaten and assaulted, by her own husband, but was too scared to speak up, afraid that he would find out. She did not know that when she went to work of a day, he beat Hinata; nor did she know the extent of her daughter's injuries, both present on her skin and on the inside. One night, Hinata found these bobby-pins while searching through her mother's drawer – bobby-pins which her mother used to pin her hair up, out of the way. Hinata snatched a few from the drawer, intending to put them back once she was finished with them, and went to her room. She turned off all the lights, and crawled into bed. Then she began to hum a small, soft tune. "My own flesh and blood lays his hand on me every night, and I crawl into bed and turn off the light. My mother wants you to be well-fed, but I want you dead!" As she sung, she stuck the bobby-pins into her doll, one by one into her heart, her eyes wide and furious.
A chilling giggle rose from her chest followed by another, and another, getting louder and louder until she was laughing maniacally, gripping the doll's neck hard enough with her two hands, almost enough to snap it off. Quietening down after a few minutes, Hinata then closed her eyes and snuggled close to Yuki-chan, stroking her hair softly, as if she was in a trance, as she fell into a deep sleep filled with images of her torturing her father, over and over.