Wednesday, August 14, 2013

The Most Beautiful Creature



The most beautiful creature I’d ever seen never seemed to close the curtains of her room next door. We’d only moved in a week before, but it was hard not to notice a girl like her. I don’t think she’d ever seen me, but that just made her that much more alluring.

She was young and thin, skin as fair as winter’s first fall, and she had beautiful crimson hair. I would see her dance almost every night, her hair setting fire to the air with each dip and twirl. I was instantly captivated, catching every moment from behind just the two panes of glass. Some nights she danced, others she just sat at her desk, sometimes talking on her cell phone long into the night. It wasn’t until the end of that first month when I saw her murder that first lucky kid.

It was some girl from school, a ditzy spaz whose enthusiastic introduction to the “cool” drugs around campus had her bounce between all the wrong groups. A perfect victim. She always did things so perfectly.

It was the first night I’d seen her turn the light out so early. I might not have known what she had done if the crescent of her knife hadn’t caught the moonlight. It was a silver tracer, carving through the dark that soon began to glisten a brilliant, scarlet red. There were no screams, there was no sound. It must have only been a few seconds, but it felt like‘d been watching for hours. Exquisite.

When she finally turned the light back on, the ditz was obviously gone from sight. But her face, her beautiful face, was lovingly coated in a layer of fresh blood. She had the cutest grin on her face, her eyes seductive and wild. She had crossed the deepest line, she had made the darkest sin. God, how gorgeous. Her crimson hair falling so gracefully across her face, like a fallen angel.

The next three came and went just the same: a drunken football player, a reclusive theater kid, an experimenting Goth girl – all of them playing their parts in this wonderful show she put on for me all throughout the next year. She invited theminto her room, like an old friend about to catch up on the latest gossip. Then you’d see it, the moment I always waited for, her hand reaching just out of sight as a smirk crept across her lips. She’d always turn the lights out for the kill, but the look on her gorgeous visage when she turned them back on…I could almost feel the ecstasy she must have felt.

One day, I finally got up the courage to go meet her or, maybe join her in the fun. If I was really lucky, maybe I could be the one to inspire that terribly seductive smirk. I bought some really nice clothes, an expensive perfume too. I even to tryied bleaching my hair blonde, hoping I could get it to shine as vibrantly as hers. But that morning came the worst news of all.

My parents told me we were moving away. They had become afraid for me, as many parents had over the loss of a few teenagers. I tried to object, but what would I say? If I told them about the girl beyond my window, she’d be the one that would go. Then, I’d never see her again. So I obliged, hoping I would see her again some day. They sent me away immediately to stay with a family friend. It was hard, I got so anxious not being in my room again, maybe see her dance for me one last time.

My father’s job meant we moved a lot, but they hated moving me out of my room. It was just hard. I would get really anxious without having my mirror on the wall. When I got out of the ward, my doctor recommended I keep it up, like a window, to keep me from relapsing and lashing out at my family. I thought it was weird at first, but soon I would forget it was even there; I’d just get so distracted. Ever since I got out, we’ve always seemed to move in next door the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen, and this one was a blonde. A real angel.

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