'When the caterpillar thought it's life was about to end, it turned into a butterfly.'
Click, click, bang. Eight down. One to go.
I wiped away the splattered blood off my face and stared at the lifeless form laid out before me. What a waste of human flesh. Crouching down, I placed her ripped panty in her mouth then I took a picture of my work of art. Another one added to my gallery. As much as I'd liked to bathe in the blood of the girl I had just destroyed, I knew that I had to go. I knew that my time was limited and soon enough I'd finish off what they had started. They called me weak, so I became strong, they called me pathetic, so I made them one. They called me crazy, I showed them, just how much.
Plain white walls. Plain white floors. Plain bright lights. The empty feeling of this soulless place was nothing but old to me. I'd been here before, many, many times. Stood right in my exact same spot, staring at the same plain white door. Three years is a long time but it feels like yesterday when I was stood right here, awaiting my entrance to the plain white room. Whitley Psych Hospital. Or so, my old second home. For a very sane person, I spent a lot of time in a mental institution. I watched my sisters dead body get taken out of this very room. Room number 39. So I stood there, waiting, hoping. Hoping I could ease some of the hurt I felt after she committed suicide, hoping to feel her presence again. I could practically see her through the walls. Three years and here I am again, stood in the same plain white mental hospital.
I ran my fingers over the doorknob, careful not to open it just yet. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see what was inside or in fact, who was inside. The last time I was here, Becca was my companion. My sweet older sister. But now, things have changed. This room has been given to another patient, a dangerous one at that. I just wanted to be inside it one more time, finally finding the courage to step foot back into the hell Becca called her 'home'. For three years I avoided here, avoided being anywhere near here, but now, now I wanted nothing more but to feel the warmth of the very last memory I had of her in this exact room.
I was lucky enough to get a pass to visit this patient without a reason. Apparently he's never had visitors. I'm just glad that most of the staffs here know me well, so they were kind enough to let me see Becca's old room. Although I thought I could pull through, I felt quite nervous. The man inside these walls was a very dangerous psychopath. A 27 year old murderer, actual Satan himself. Chase. That is his name, Chase.
My heart crept up in my throat and lurched out of my mouth when I stepped inside and was greeted with a chest full of muscle. I didn't get the chance to register what I was facing until my eyes searched up and fell onto two brown orbs. Chase. So the eyes belong to Chase, Chase Ashworth. I didn't know whether to be shocked at why he was so close to me or shocked at how beautiful this deadly man was. Long dark lashes clouded over his brown eyes. Everything about him was perfectly sculpted into a masterpiece. From his short soft looking brown hair, to his dark features, his all too full lips and the sharpness of his jaw and the most perfect of all, his tan skin. But what really caught my eyes was the deep scar that went from the side of his left eyebrow to his cheek. It looked like a painful scar, a scar that had long healed but still more than visible.
Realising that I'd been staring for way too long I cleared my throat and tried to look anywhere other than his face, so I decided to stare at the chest that was right in front of me. A very smooth, muscled chest, my eyes roamed down his body to his awfully perfect abs and V line that trailed down to the waistband of his black sweatpants. I wondered why he was shirtless, my thoughts didn't last long as I realised that I was now staring at his body. Gulping down my shame, I decided that my second option of view wasn't a good idea either so I cleared my throat and looked back up at him.
'Hi, I'm Bella.' I couldn't have said it anymore awkward if I tried. He continued gazing at me, making me slightly uncomfortable under his brown orbs. Obviously he wasn't a chit chat type of person so I decided to ease the pollution in the air and slide away from him. Pressing my back against the wall, I slid to the right and walked further into the room, happy to have some space to myself. My heart was beating loud and clear in my chest, reminding me that I am human and that I am alive, which could change in the hands of this psychopath that had now just turned around and was watching my every move, pretty sure he was monitoring my heart rate too. For a moment I got lost in the memories of Becca, it all hit me at once, realising exactly where I was. This was her room. The room I'd spent so much time in with her. The room where she killed herself. Tears threatened to spill but I held them back, not allowing myself the embarrassment of crying in front of a psycho stranger. It hurt, it really did, to be here, while she wasn't. But I knew I had to move on, move forward, that's what she would've wanted me to do, so I smiled, I smiled and inhaled my sorrow, and exhaled my pain.
Surely I looked just much of a psycho as the man stood before me, he was watching me like a hawk. Like I was the dangerous one. I was thankful for the heat sensor bracelet I'd been given. If he was to attack me, the heat sensor would pick up on my fear and it would alert the guards. They didn't have these when Becca was here, so it felt new. I subconsciously rubbed over the bracelet, catching his attention, he eyed the bracelet around my wrist then looked back into my eyes. His height which was probably around 6'4, was intimidating alone, and with his entire demeanour and looks, he quite frankly was scaring the shit out of me. I wondered if the sensor would go off just by the fact I was scared without really being harmed. I hoped not. I decided, a conversation was necessary.
'Mr Ashworth, I'm sorry to intrude, you don't know me and I don't know you but this room use to belong to my sister, give me five minutes and then I'll be on my way.' I rambled on. Not sure if he was even listening. A part of me wanted to run out of this small space and never look back but it was too late to turn back now, I didn't know why I was feeling so anxious. In fact, my entire body was covered in goosebumps as I felt his eyes roam my skin. Deciding to ignore his penetrating stare, I walked over to the bed that now belonged to him. Slowly tracing my fingers over it, I reminisced the times Becca had slept on this bed while I sat and read her a book. A small smile crept up on my face but soon vanished as I felt the stranger standing right behind me. Too close for comfort. I almost dived for the door when his large hand grabbed my wrist and pulled it away from his bed. I turned to look at him, clearly he wasn't liking the fact I was touching his furniture. 'I'm sorry.' I whispered, my mind was a foggy mess due to his intimidating presence mixed with the overwhelming memories of Becca. He didn't say a word, he simply stood there staring at me, his grip tightening around my wrist. I struggled but managed to pull my arm away from him. Knowing all too well that I was clearly not wanted here and most likely on the brink of getting my head snapped, I turned to leave.
'What's your name?' I halted at his question. Milliseconds from the door, I could either run now or I could stay here and entertain this psychopath, being the risk taker I am, I turned around and answered him. 'I already told you, I'm Bella.' Maybe he wasn't listening the first time. 'That's your name?' He eyed me carefully, his jaw clenched, he looked as though he was in pain and I felt a twinge of concern for this man. 'Yes, my name is Bella.' A frown covered his face for a split second then it disappeared into a masked expression. I was feeling quite confused, why was I angering him? Was I doing something wrong? 'I'll leave now, thank you for letting me look around.' I forced a small smile and then turned my back to him, second attempt of trying to leave before I was stopped again. 'What happened to her?' His voice was low, deep enough to scare a grown man, let alone a 5'2 little me. I didn't turn around this time, I knew what he was asking and I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. 'She left.' It was my turn to clench my teeth. I didn't want to talk about Becca, and surely he didn't care either. 'It was nice meeting you Mr Ashworth' my voice came out weak and I'm sure he noticed, I left before he could say anything else, anything else to postpone my departure from that very white plain hell.