Fiona was sitting on the couch having fallen asleep reading a book, and stirred back to reality by the screams. She wasn't crying but her eyes showed server pain and disgust. I didn't know what to, neither did she. So she and I just there sat there staring at each other. It was as if our souls were having a conversation that we weren't allowed to hear. She rises from the couch walks up to me and violently slaps my right cheek. Running up the stairs I hear her tears and sobs being released. I don't try stopping her, it would serve me no good.
I figured they would eventually come to terms with it all, move on with their lives like normal. But I suppose I'm harder to get over then I gave myself credit for. It was only thirty minutes after Jack fled the phone call arrived. It was 1 o'clock in the morning that should of risen suspicious in my head something would be wrong. Molly answered it from her bedroom. I had nearly forgotten she was here, we all do. Locking herself away allowing us young'uns to take care of ourselves. It was like she no longer cared what in the hell we did. I heard the door squeak open and it was followed by the image of Molly standing on the top of the stairs, pale, shaking. Right there I instantly knew the cause of her appearance. He was dead.
Jack slit his own throat; the knife was still clutched in his hand. Or at least that's what the police and detectives told us. They had pictures but I refused to look. I drove to it. It was all my fault! Only if stopped to think before acting he could of still been here. Sitting next to me laughing at some joke only we would understand. Everything would be simply wonderful again. I was too self-centered, focused only on my pain that I forgot the feeling Fiona was certainly experiencing. She was the next to go.
My dad was the one that found her lying peacefully on her bed. It was time to eat dinner so he gently shook her body. It didn't take long for his screams and feeling of dread to fill the house and our hearts. She poised herself, carefully calutated the amount of pills and the proper constriction of whisky. Molly won't stop crying she had lost everything she ever held close to her heart. I wasn't sure if I should tell her the truth. Of how my actions of thinking of myself and screwing around behind everyone's backs literally and metroically. Life is one big chain reaction and Molly and Annie were the next to fall.
