1 o'clock by: Transcendent
Dedication: SilverCaladan.
ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY. READ CAUTIOUSLY IF YOU ARE UNDER 13 YEARS OF AGE.
Chapter One: Almost Time
The girl glanced at the clock—dear God, it was almost time.
She didn't have the gun; she just couldn't grab it and let him off. It wasn't moral or at least, not anymore it wasn't. He hadn't accidentally killed her, he never did, and because of that, she didn't have it in her to merely save him. In all actuality, she shouldn't have done it the other times, either, but blood runs thicker than anything else.
Even if, she realized, it meant the blood on his hands eventually wound up on hers, too, she couldn't let him run away from his misdeed. The face of the dead girl on the cold, steel tray made that fact painfully obvious—her lips bloody, her flesh excised, the ghastly patches of darkened blood on her, most likely, perfectly muscled thigh… and her skin that was brighter than the sun. She had seen the distinct mark of the butt of the gun stamped into her skin when her father had knocked her out.
Nothing could've saved her from her father's malicious intent. Not her rich, honey colored, light brown hair, or her dainty body that screamed of womanhood. If those things didn't save her, the light rose fingernails and light makeup hadn't done much, either. She was like a princess, the princess of the world.
Why was this girl killed? Why was she brutally murdered by her father?
The burning sensation of oncoming tears hit her deep sapphire eyes. The salty crystals gathered on the edge of her eyelid and finally brimmed over and crawled down her cheek. She closed her eyes for a second, calming her emotions and the sympathy she felt for this girl and her parents.
That girl would never open her eyes again, she would never breathe again, she would never think again, and she'd never find happiness anymore, she would never find love. It was the end for the princess, an end that was most likely preventable.
What had her father done?
She'd never touch anything; she would never feel someone else's hand in hers. She would never feel the gentle touch of a kiss. She couldn't cry anymore. She couldn't look to the sky anymore. The only thing that would be left of her after her autopsy, and after being buried or disintegrated by fire, would be memories.
She was scared; she had never thought of death like this before. She had never afraid of it like she was now, but soon, she would be that girl with the bullet through her skull. She was going to die in her own cold blood in this very room.
The girl glanced at the clock again, her muscles tense and her eyes unblinking. This time her gaze stuck. It was 12:59, one more minute until the end.
"Oh God!" she said breathlessly, her voice shaking in her nervousness. "Is this going to be how it ends? He can't kill his own daughter…like he killed that girl."
As she shivered, the alarm clock came to life and the loud beeping indicated her worse nightmare. However, as the sound droned on the back of her mind, she didn't want to turn it off, she didn't have the will. Was that the last sound she was going to hear?
She shook her head and pressed the snooze button with a soft touch of her forefinger. No, it shouldn't end like that. It shouldn't end like this at all, she thought.
She sighed and her gaze averted to the telephone. Her hand hovering over it, as if expecting something and soon, it rang and she picked it up. She inhaled quietly and exhaled loudly. Enjoy the air while you can, she told herself earnestly.
"Did you get it?"
She looked out the window; the blinds were angled so she could see out. "No."
"WHAT? Why not? I told you to get the gun!" The voice on the other side was loud, booming, and she could already feel her eyes stinging again.
She stuttered, "I-I-I couldn't."
"What do you mean you couldn't?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening. "What do you mean by that? How could you not get it? It was right there in front of you!"
"You killed her; she was dead. Why did you do it, dad? How could you kill her like that?" she screamed back into the receiver. Her tears flowed openly down her flushed cheeks.
His reply was short, his voice unraveled. "You know what this means."
She nodded unconsciously, forgetting he couldn't see her. "I'm sorry, daddy, but I couldn't let you get away with killing her." She sniffed once, clearing her nose. "Don't you feel guilty?" This time, he didn't even bother to respond, so she went on. "How could you kill her? I want to know! How can you live with yourself after killing an innocent girl! She barely looked sixteen!"
Still no answer. "Oh God! Why, why, why me?"
She choked on a sob as she set the phone back in its place. Bringing her knees to her chest protectively, she buried her head in her lap. Her tears slowed and her sobs softened. After she felt her body relax, she stood and involuntarily wiped her face, just as she always did when she was younger.
Slowly, knowing what was coming; she went to the window and pulled up the blinds. Why today of all days…did it have to be beautiful?
Her eyes darted around and finally, she found what she was looking for. Her heart beat heavily in her chest, her eyes widened, and her breath hitched in her throat as it opened in protest. The only thing in her mind was the picture of that girl when the sound of a rifle filled the neighborhood.
Author's Note: Hey. I redid this a while back. The chapter I had up before wasn't well written, and since it seems a lot of people read first chapters to see if the story will be well written/good, then I guess I should at least have a decent first chapter... The rest beyond this point, however, are a little weaker. Same type of writing, just not done as well, up until... chapter eight. I'll take time to rewrite each chapter... when I get the time to take it. Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to review ;D
With love,
Transcendent