"Maria, you don't understand how important this is, I need to find Liz before she wakes." He says in a matter-of-factly voice. I hold my breath and look up at him. "You killed her didn't you? Oh my God! They tried to find what caused her death but all they found was two fucken' bite marks and lack of blood" I abruptly stand from my kneeled position. "I don't own you an explanation." He sounds almost neutral. "Fuck that you don't! You claim to be my father, you killed not only my fucken' mother but my best friend! Please do elaborate on why the fuck do you not own me an explanation?" I say in a surprisingly calm voice. I glare at him, while I slowly slide my free hand down my thigh. I untuck the letter opener out of my pocket. It's quite a large blade for something you would only open letters for. Only thing is, tonight I'm not going to open fucken letters. I position the blade so I'm holding the handle not the actual blade.
Silence fills the air it's so thick that I could walk on it without stumbling. "I've always wanted a father…where were you after all these years?" I ask him, trying to keep the sadness in my voice. If he hears any strain in my voice then he won't fall for it. I have to make sure he comes nice and close. "Maria… I'm…no if I said I was sorry for killing your mother It would be a lie." Self-absorbed bastard. "I need to hear your side…" I whisper. But what I really wanted to say is, not like I give a hell of a lot for your side of the story daddy because your going to be dead very shortly. "Your mother betrayed me, we'll leave it at that!" he suddenly sounds very strained as if his fighting not to break into tears. Oh yeah because I really sympathized don't I? After he butchered my mother. Lets hear it for the sadistic bastards. I need humour to stop me from going insane. The only problem with that is that it sounds like I'm already crazy. I nod my head, acting as if I understand. Like I give a flying fuck.
With my free hand I rub my arm. As if saying I'm cold but no amount of blankets can fix the coldness that I'm feeling. Which is closest to the truth that I can find myself admitting. He hesitates but soon I find his arms around me. I force a sob from my lips and soon after I break down and I acrimoniously laugh. "You naïve, pathetic bastard, its your turn." I whisper into his ear. I shove the blade through his gut, hearing flesh rip from the impact. I fight to keep my composure as I twist the blade upwards. Blood trails along the blade and onto the handle. "Maria…" I hear him sob. I taste bile in my throat and I fight not to vomit up the little amount of dinner I had tonight. I grip the blade even tighter as I twist and pull it out of his chest. He kneels in front of me. He coughs and blood trails down his mouth. Am I supposed to feel something for the dead? For the man who killed my mother in front of me he didn't seem to care that it would haunt me. That I'm going to have many sleepless nights just dwelling on my mothers dead body, which lays in a pile of, nothing but blood and bones near my room.
"What's your name daddy?" I ask in a sweet voice. He holds his wound, trying to stop the bleeding but he cant. The wound is too large for him to grasp. He chokes on his words but he tries again. "William love, but you can call me Spike." I think he tried to sound calm and relaxed, maybe I would have believed it if he wasn't suffocating on blood…or rather the lack of it? "Aw that's cute you got a pet name?" I say more as a statement then anything else. "What's that?" I ask as I turn to hear loud thuds at the door. "The door love." He croaks. No doubt loosing a large amount of blood already. I wipe my hands on the curtain, leaving the beautiful colour crimson on the drapes. "Stay there" I whisper to William. "Don't worry love, I aint going anywhere." He mutters, trying to sound coherent or alive. I hold the blade behind my back as I slowly walk to the door. I reach out for the door nob. "Maria! It's me Michael, open already!" Michael? No it can't be him! I open the door as I lunge into his arms, sobbing.