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The Legacy of Ten

“Okay, back to bed with you young lady, you’ve got school tomorrow.”

“Okay mamochka, goodnight.”

“Good night baby, I love you.”

“Hey mama?” Ana turned back to her mother from the staircase.

“Yes Ana?”

“When’s ten coming?”

“Soon baby. Sometimes they come later than they’re supposed to, off to bed now.” With a kiss on the forehead, Nadia sent her child waddling up the steps, and back to her room.

All night, Ana lay awake. She could not quit musing about that glass. Running in her mind on a loop, the thoughts played over and over.

She could’ve slit its throat, watched the blood pour from it’s neck. She could’ve dissected the thing, taken out all its organs, and splayed them out all around it. The desire was tempting to sneak out her window and finish the job, but she was on the second floor, she’d fall for sure.

The taste for death was without a doubt accounted for. She had thought about this for quite a while. Before today however, she had only ever observed, and imagined the affair. Now, actually having killed something, she craved more. She yearned for another opportunity to strike.

The choking however, just wasn’t enough. She wanted to watch her victims suffer, desiring a far more gruesome experience. As the clock ticked on, Anastasia plotted her next infiltration, and how she would avoid detection. She couldn’t very well arrive home with her clothes sodden in blood. That would just be idiotic, no, she needed to plan accordingly, in order to get off Scott-free.

And so, that is what Anastasia did. She sat up, and switched on her bedside lamp, before grabbing a notebook and pen off her desk.

1. Достаньте рюкзак 4 школы, и положите нож с кухни в рюкзак.

1. Get backpack 4 school, and put knife from the kitchen in backpack.

2. Достаньте мешок для мусора с кухни, положите в рюкзак (без крови, без грязи)

2. Get garbage bag from kitchen, put in backpack (no blood, no messy)

3. Сходите 2 «школы», в лес и заведите кошечку.

3. Go 2 ‘school,’ into woods and get kitty.

4. Разрежьте ножом.

4. Cut open with knife.

5. Порезать шею.

5. Cut neck.

6. Положите внутренности наружу.

6. Put insides outside.

7. Покрыть снегом.

7. Cover with snow.

8. волки получит его (без проблем).

8. Woofs will get it (no trouble.)

9. Чистый нож со снегом.

9. Clean knife with snow.

10. Положите нож в мешок.

10. Put knife in bag.

11. мусорный бак на Эли ехал, по дороге домой (положил мешок для мусора в банку, с ножом).

11. Garbage can on Eli rode, on way home (put garbage bag in can, with knife.)

12. Дом.

12. Home.

As she wrote, Ana became more and more enthralled, in anticipation for the next day. The thrill gave her a rush that she had never felt before, it was riveting.

Within minutes of Ana finishing her scheme. A shrill outcry, in the form of a soul crushing, ear curdling shriek, blared from down the stairs.

“Ten!” Ana leapt from her bed, and practically dove towards the door. “Mama!” She screamed.

“Ana!” Nadia gasped through labored breaths. When Ana reached her mother, it was like Deja vu. Nadia lay on the rug of the living room, struggling to remove her pants.

“Anastasia! Snap out of it, and get me the fucking kit. Hurry!”

Ana scurried around the corner, and into the dimly lit kitchen. Dragging a heavy burgundy chair, from the dining table, to the fridge. She climbed on top of the chair, and extended her arms, to attain the birthing kit, on top of the pale, refrigerator.

As soon as the box was within her grip, Ana raced to her mothers’ side, opening the kit, and emptying its contents onto the floor. As Nadia howled through the pain, Ana emptied the water bottle onto a washcloth, and dabbed her mothers’ forehead. Immediately ensuing this, Ana helped Nadia’s pants the rest of the way off, as Nadia lifted. and spread her knees.

“Come on mama, you got this, just push, and breath.”

Nadia screamed bloody murder through the following hour, as she strained every muscle in her body. Evidently to her, it seemed like the longest, and most agonizing hour of her life. Not that, that was saying much, because needless to say, the annual torment anguished her every single time.

When the child was born, Ana caught him in the blanket that she had been cradling under her mother. Nadia caught her breath, and began to exhale a sigh of relief. As Ana cut the cord with the scissors that had been in the kit. The placenta soiling the rug, just as it always did.

Naturally, for many young children, this would be quite traumatizing, but for Ana. Well, she had been used to this since five was born. Right around the time she was old enough to start aiding in the process.

“Okay Ana, hand me ten please.”

Ana cautiously stepped towards her mother, holding the newborn in her arms. He was practically vibrating, he was shaking so bad. This, was the standard in their home. As far as Ana was concerned, violent convulsions were prevalent in all newborns.

As Ana handed the baby to her mother, Nadia began to shush, and rock the child. Ana sat beside her mother, watching attentively, as she always did. She monitored the scene, as her mother rocked the child to sleep. When he was dormant in the safety of his mothers’ arms, Nadia began to sing.

“Forever more my precious babe, sleep so sound not a peep is made, child, child forever more, among the stars, you will soar.”

Ana muttered the song under her breath, as she witnessed her mother lift her hand, placing it over the child’s mouth and nose. As they sang, Nadia kept her hand pressed firmly on the infant’s face.

“Okay Ana, mirror please.”

Ana stood without hesitation, and walked towards the pile of supplies. She picked up the small round mirror sitting atop the washcloth, and handed it to her mother. Nadia removed her hand from her son’s mouth, and placed the mirror under his nose. Within twenty seconds, no fog was gathered on the mirror. As Nadia began to cry, she kissed her child on the forehead, still rocking him in her arms.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” she whispered in his ear, before wiping her tears, taking a deep breath, and turning to Anastasia. She nodded her head towards the pants splayed on the floor.

Fully aware of what she was to do, Ana instinctively assisted her mother in re-dressing.

“Okay Ana, say goodnight to your brother.”

“Good night.” Ana waved him off, as Nadia stood, and made her way to the back door, limping in excruciating pain.

Anastasia remained stagnant until her mother was outside, and began repacking the kit. She refilled the water, changed the cloth, fetched a new blanket, and fresh towels.

When the kit was finished, Ana placed it back on top of the fridge, and returned the chair to its spot in the dining room. When the door opened, Ana met her mother in the mudroom.

“Is everything done?” Nadia enquired.

“Yup.” Ana held back the surge of excitement that was building inside of her. “Can I go to bed now?”

“Ana, you’re not afraid of mama... are you?”

“No, mamochka, of course not.” With an eager grin, Ana wanted nothing more than to be alone. So that she could reminisce on the adrenaline kick she was riding that night.

Nadia crossed her arms and sighed a soft, “okay, I love you.” She knelt down to her daughters’ level, holding out her arms for a hug. Ana produced a tender smile, and embraced her mother before she made her way up the stairs, and to her bedroom.

As soon as she was out of sight of her mother, Ana’s so called ‘tender’ smile, grew much more sadistic, as she replayed tens’ death in her mind.

The very thought of death was thrilling with her mentality. It was empowering. The thought that she could hold such control over another entity. This was like fuel to Anastasia, and so, she waited for her mother to fall asleep. Until there was not a sound in the house, before she snatched her backpack, and crept down the stairs.

She was very careful to avoid the fourth step from the top. This being the stair with the squeaky floorboard. When Ana entered the dim, blood red, kitchen, she tiptoed towards the chopping block. Her weapon of choice, a ten inch, freshly sharpened, steak knife. Ana slipped the blade into the bottom of her bag.

She then turned to the cupboard where she knew the garbage bags would be. Meticulously, Ana pulled one out, placing it gently into her knapsack. She tried desperately not to crinkle the bag, becoming paralyzed with fear at even the slightest rustle. After she anxiously clicked shut the cupboard door, Ana slinked back up the flight of stairs, and into her room once more.

Out of the bag, Anastasia pulled her knife, as well as the garbage bag, in which she cut one hole for her head, and two for her arms. A heinous smirk spread across her face, as she gawked at the lustrous blade. This would be far more effective then the glass would have ever been. Ana turned the knife in her fist, it felt almost, natural. As if she was meant to wield it.

After slipping the weapon back into the bag, between her notebooks. Ana folded the garbage bag, and placed it neatly into her knapsack. This was it, the plan was set in motion.

As Anastasia lifted her bag, to place it beside her bed, she felt the exhilaration take control. The stimulation only provoked her distorted fantasies, to become even more intensified, as she situated herself into bed, and closed her eyes. Imagining the vivid scene that she would create tomorrow.

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