A/N-Hey peoples! I'm writing this in math class right now! We get 15 minutes for silent reading, but being the forgetful girl I am, I left my book at home. So, what do I do?
Whip out the handy-dandy writing notebook-thingamagigger!
I can't stop with the fanfictions! They're like potato chips; you can't have just one. So, I apologize to you readers for the funny updating. I write when and what I feel like, and I have so many stories in progress, so my updates are pretty random. Very random. But I can't stop getting ideas, and I have to write them up before they drift away into the ether! So without further ado-
GREAT GREEN SLIMY-SCALED BEARS! A BUTTERFLY! *watches in amazement as a butterfly flies by the window.*
Anyways, on with the story!
D1$(L41M3R!-This is a true murder case. You can Google it if you don't believe me. Some details might be wrong or just made up by me, so it isn't 100% accurate. And I personally think Lizzie was guilty; therefore, in my story, she is. This will turn into a file of mystery-murders, so this IS NOT A ONESHOT! C= For any Questions, Comments, or Complaints, you can dial 1-800-REVIEW-BUTTON. And if you actually pick up the phone and try to dial it, you will be eaten alive by the ghost of fail.
Mystery Murder- Lizzie Borden
Date of Murder(s)-August 4, 1892 at 9:00am-11:15 am
Location-92 Second Street, Fall River, Massachusetts
Two days. Two days.
I can't believe Father is going to disinherit us, his own children!
Two days. Two days.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Two days. Two days.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I quickened my steps, trying to run away from the rhythm of impending disaster.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Two days.
Ding!
I pushed open the door tentatively, suddenly anxious and afraid. But I plastered a fairly believable smile on my face, forcing myself to at least appear cheerful.
Even if I was shaking with anger.
Even if I was planning the vilest act of my life.
Even if the accursed doorbell was too bright and happy and did not in any was match my mood and I just wanted to shatter it into a million pieces of no-longer-cheerful-bell.
"Good afternoon, Miss Borden.", said Eli, the clerk. My hands started to shake a bit, and I hid them in the folds of the silly poufy dress I had to wear and smiled at him.
"The same to you, Mr. Bence. How's business this afternoon?"
I truly didn't care, but it got him talking nicely. Eli's gossip rivaled that of an old woman.
"Well, about half an hour ago, young Mrs. Alisha came in. Poor woman, those twins of hers are a handful, and one of them, Callie, has caught the fever something terrible. Sweet little thing, might not live through it."
I gave a fake little gasp. "Dear Mrs. Alisha, the child's only seen two years!"
Eli nodded sadly. "The poor woman's in hysterics. She almost lost them both during pregnancy; and now there's a sure chance on of them is going to die on her."
He straightened up a bit, sort of shaking off the sadness. "But that's beside the point. I know you didn't come in just to talk with me; so is there anything I can get you?"
It took a bit of work to keep my face natural, but I was able to do it. "Well, Maggie has developed a bit of a headache, so she asked me to pick up something called…prussic acid? I've never heard of it, but she assured me it works like a charm."
Eli looked puzzled. "Are you sure she said prussic acid? That stuff's illegal."
He caught me! "I may have misheard. Do you have something else for headaches?"
I walked out with unwanted medicine and burning disappointment.
It was midmorning, and my web of lies was staring to get to me. I told Maggie that Mrs. Borden was out, said to everybody listening that I was going out to the barn to look for some fishing irons, and poisoned Father and Mrs. Borden.
It was a special poison that Emma had researched for me. It works quite effectively, but shows no signs of ever existing. Even an autopsy won't show evidence. Prefect for my uses.
The house was quiet. I walked down to the basement and took a long look at the collection of tools at my disposal. I carefully selected a nice sharp-looking axe that we used for chopping wood. If it can cut through wood, it can cut through a skull.
I slowly proceeded upstairs, where I changed my dress. The one I now wore was old, so I had an excuse to burn it. I turned it inside out, though, knowing that this would be messy, and I had to do my utmost to keep anybody from finding evidence.
My limbs trilled with energy; finally! Finally I would get rid of that vile harpy once and for all. Holding the axe behind my back, I opened the door. She was in front of the mirror, but spun around as I entered.
"Lizzie-"
I cut her off in a growl.
"Die."
Her eyes widened as I stalked her, raising the axe threateningly. I admit, I could get a bit histrionic sometimes.
She tried to run, but I hit her with the flat of the blade, knocking her down without drawing blood. I continued to hit her, this time with the actual edge. I was quick enough that the hag didn't have enough to cry out; by the time I was done, her head was barely attached.
Oddly, though, I wasn't really tired, even though I had been hacking for quite some time. Manic energy rushed through me. I proceeded downstairs, where Father was asleep in the parlor. Good. He'd never wake up. I wouldn't allow it.
I stood behind him, axe raised, and contemplated this. Today was a great day. I'd finally get back what was rightfully mine, and have my revenge at the same time.
I let the axe fall.
"Maggie! Come quick! Father's dead! Somebody killed him!"
I tried to keep my face worried, despite the fact that I was overjoyed and triumphant that my planning had finally paid off; it was all coming together at last.
The trial was tedious; it was about a year after the actual murders that it took place. Pretty quixotic if you ask me; how was anybody going to remember exactly what had happened? But anyway.
It took three days for them to finish questioning and finally make a verdict. I was ruled innocent, simply because I was a woman; these men did not believe that I was capable of murder. My plan worked to perfection.
Emma and I lived out the rest of our lives wealthy spinsters. Neither of us married; we were in control of ourselves. We didn't need a man to take over our money, activities, freedom, our lives. Our lives were our own to do with as we pleased.
We took advantage of our restored inheritance, surrounded by finery for the rest of our years. And we got away with one of the greatest mysteries of all time, taking the secret with us to the grave.
