Colina. I decided I would shorten her name, for myself. My own personal diminutive for her. The Phena was unnecessary. I liked the sound of just plain Colina. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may question my sick, twisted obsession with a little girl in such a spick and span amount of time; but you see, only a true mad man could understand it.
Monsters such as myself, we are on another astral plane than the norm. We are artist's who had the world at a young riping, only to have it stolen from us before our development of the mind finished. Our subconscious is fixated on filling what was taken from us; so we will snatch without thought, the first resemblance. I am terrible, I am. But, it isn't my fault.
My father never had time for me, you see. I was treated as an old sneaker that no longer fit after my younger sisters were born. and my my mother; don't get me started on my mother. All she did was scold me and sleep like a lump of clay. So when my Leslie entered my life, I was free to grow beyond what I would have. I was a king. I had my royalty stripped from me too soon to comprehend what was happening. Oh, the confusion! So that is why, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I plead for your sympathy in this case. But, maybe I don't deserve it. I am a madman with no sense of right and wrong.
Perhaps I should be locked away, never to be seen again. I don't belong in this society. My only regret would be my detachment from my home land, Terabithia. My only sanctuary in this cruel world. But would it ever be the same? Now that the public is aware of the deaths of the almost-Queens, there will be shrines around the river. All of their photographed faces and Leslie-like blue eyes staring deep into my soul, surrounded by fake flowers and cheap gift store teddy bears, and crosses. Our space invaded. I truly have so many regrets. Perhaps I should have allowed them to be civilians or dropped them off on the streets so they could return home. I should have turned myself in, but fear and insanity drove me in the wrong direction. I don't deserve to live. I deserve to be drowned in that river myself. I deserve no mercy, but what do I know? Maybe I could shape up and make a change in my life. Maybe I could get intense therapy that could make me normal. Maybe I don't deserve that chance now. I suppose that's for you, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, to decide.
I approached her parents on a warm Thursday evening. They were admiring the statues together in their rare moment alone. They were social creatures who enjoyed random chats with strangers while their children wandered off alone. I was tracking their every move without them noticing once. It was very tedious and boring. I hated adults and will until the day I die. They're so boring to observe with their constant nagging and customs. Colina's parents were nothing like Leslie's had been. They didn't wear constant smiles to try and keep their eldest daughter, my gem, content and happy.
They just left Colina there with the toddler, who I admittedly grew to dislike. The little girl was a handful, as most children her age are. I do not like toddlers, nor do I like adults. I think the perfect age groups are between the ages of nine and fourteen. After that, the soul often dies and you're left with a cranky dud with not an ounce of imagination within them.
I often wonder, would my Leslie have been a dull, moody, and egocentric lard if she had grown up alongside me? I'd like to think not, but it happens all too often to the seemingly perfect children I've observed in life. Perhaps the river aided us both of the inevitable. To watch my darling shape into such a disdainful woman of ordinary behavior would be worse than losing her the way I did. The death may have been a gift, for in the minds of all who had the pleasure to know her would be a permanent requiem of her beauty and charm. A lullaby. Her.
I approached the mother of Colina and smiled charmingly at her. I've learned the art of society with sheer observation. I hated most people, but would do anything in my power to get what I wanted or needed. I first glanced into her murky green eyes and memorized every red curl on her round head. I wanted her to feel like a diamond sculptor that deserved all of the attention in the world. I could tell that that was what she wanted based on the gleeful expression she wore when others eyed her that way.
"Hello, Miss. I see you here very often and was wondering if you were here because you're the artistic type?" I asked smoothly. I knew that she was. She clearly had the eye of an artist. I could see it, lurking in her eyes, her inner youngling lifting her head above the nonsense and twinkling with the utmost admiration for the work. I also saw hope and ambition. She clearly had a need and desire to someday have something of hers planted here for the world to see.
She giggled warmly, her puffy cheeks turning magenta. I supposed to an ordinary man, she had the undying potential to be quite beautiful when she smiled. I saw her as a single obstacle to get past. All I wanted at that moment was to sway her to my side so that I could push her out of the way and get to the real prize.
"Well, I have a few pieces. I usually make sculptors. I have since I was a child." She admitted.
I smiled brightly, "Do you? I'd love to see them sometime. It's funny that you mentioned sculptors seeing as I think we could use more around here. Maybe I could talk the boss into allowing you to submit a few."
That of course, was way beyond my power, but she didn't have to know that. I could tell she was eating every word I spoke like candy. She beamed brightly flushing bright pink. "Really? Do you really think you could do that? It would be-It would be such an honor!"
"Yes. I've seen you here so often and I just knew that if someone had that much dedication, they probably have what it takes to make a submission."
"Oh, but I mean...You've never even seen my work. How can you be sure?" she laughed, looking at me with disbelief and contraire.
I smiled, a serious glint in my eye. "Miss, have you ever seen an artist's mannerisms? They're slow and steady, concentrating and sucking in every image, color, and sound around them. Every time they see a piece that resonates with them, they have a shimmering glint in their eyes that only another artist can detect. I'm an artist too. I can sense the gift within you."
Score! She was falling right into it. I could see her previous shifts of discomfort and uncertainly slowly fade as she relaxed into my monologue. I continued to sway her with more bullshit that may or may not be true and by the end of the evening, we had a set up for me to join the family for dinner and to of course, view her sculptors.
The father was a whole different story and the more I got to know him, the more my original scum of a plan dissolved and rearranged. I knew he had to go if I had any hopes of capturing my prey.
Darren, his name was. He was a suspicious man who immediately knew that I was up to no good. He might have caught me in my tracks and prevented all of this if only he had acted a bit sooner.
He was a Philosopher. He studied human behavior and ideals. He could read me very well, unfortunately. He was short and balding, but had piercing blue eyes that were practically X-rays. I knew that he knew when I first arrived for dinner at their home and I couldn't stop staring at Colina and asking her half a dozen questions. Curse my impulsive tendencies.
She hadn't been eating and I took my chance to question her on why. She pouted groggily, forking through her side dishes with distaste. "I hate corn and eating's boring."
"Corn is delicious, Hun. Eat it." Her mother said.
"Lila, what did I tell you about being so demanding." Darren scolded his wife, earning a dark glare.
"I want our daughter to be healthy and grateful for the food put on her plate." She glanced at me, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's not always this chaotic here."
Darren and Lila went into irritable, arguementive murmurs amongst one another.
Colina rolled her eyes. "Uh huh."
I gave her a warm smile and leaned in closer. "You know, in Terabithia there's no corn. You can eat anything you want."
"What's that?" she asked, perking up. "The Terabithia?"
"It's a magical land." I whispered to her so only she could hear.
Colina laughed lightly, staring up at me with adoration. "You're off your rocker." I could feel her playfully kick her feet against mine. She instinctively moved in closer, making my heart race.
I laughed back, moving in to whisper in her ear. "I can take you there sometime. You'll see."
Darren caught me with a suspicious look and cleared his throat, making me move up to my original posture that wasn't so close to his child. Darren relaxed but only just. "So, Jess. Have you ever submitted an art project into the museum?"
I wanted to punch him, but responded pleasantly. "No, I actually am more private about my work. It's personal. If I submitted it, I'd feel like I was giving my children away."
"Speaking of children, do you have any?" he asked, his tone rigid. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me while sounding friendly in front of his family.
"No." I answered, "I'm a loner, I guess."
"So you're not married yet?" Colina snickered loudly, "But, you're like really old."
Lila gasped, "Colinaphen!"
"I'm not that old." I retorted with amusement, though I was scorned by her words. "Age is in the heart. You can be a senior citizen at fifteen and a child at ninety. It's a choice, you see. "
Colina kicked me again, looking up at me with a toothy grin. "Does that mean you're a senior citizen at ninety?"
I lightly kicked her back. "No. I'm only thirty four."
Colina jumped to her feet and pressed her cupped hands to my ear and whispered. "It's okay. I like older men." I dropped my fork. She sat down giggling loudly with a condescending smirk as though she had pulled one over on me. Blinking several times, I stared down at my plate feeling as though I'd never be able to take another bite.
Darren cleared his throat again, "Colinaphen, since you're done eating; you wouldn't mind going upstairs to do your homework, right?"
"No! I have to have my root beer float first! It's the Friday night tradition!" She shrieked, clearly hyped up already. "Can Jess stay for the movie with us?"
"No-"
"That sounds great! I'm sure he'd like that a lot! Wouldn't you like that, Jess?" Lila asked happily. I smiled, feeling myself revel in my luck.
"Yes, I'd like that very much."
