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The Life of a Killer

Violet sat in a corner of the caf' with her nose in a book. She was the only one in the coffeehouse sitting alone. The scent of coffee filled her nose, and the pink and gold wallpaper was a wonderful vision for her eyes. However, she preferred to read her book. At least, that's how it looked to people at a distance. The pages of the book were splashed with tears and a bottle of aspirins lay in her hand. Popping three of the aspirins in her mouth, she downed her coffee and made her way to the restrooms, leaving her book on the table.

Sandra paced her room in long strides. Her dark purple carpet was even darker where her tears had fallen. Slowly, she opened her drawer and took out a pill bottle. She took a few, slow sips of her water and rushed to the kitchen as bitterness filled her mouth. She quickly poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a few sips to hide the bitterness of the water. She made her way to the living room and turned on the television, which she knew would be a good distraction for her.

Mary, Violet and Sandra's mother arrived home late from work as usual. She found her daughter Sandra lying peacefully on the light blue sofa sleeping, and then went to look for Sandra's twin Violet. Violet, however was no where to be seen. Mary made her way back to the living room and covered up sleeping Sandra, brown hair sprawled over her head like an angel, with a fur blanket and turned off the television. She figured that Violet had just went to a friend's house and was unable to call so Mary went into her completely pale pink room for a well-deserved rest.

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The next day, Mary awoke with a start as the phone rang. Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, Mary picked up the loud phone and was just able to croak a 'hello'.

The phone call was from her 'ex', Violet and Sandra's father. He barely called, as he had left the family one night, and their mother taught Sandra and Violet that he was a person who completely lacked morals. Mary managed to have a conversation with him, and he was not even interested in the welfare of his two daughters. The reason that Mary's 'ex' Sam had called at all was that he wanted to know if she had cashed the check that he gave the family for Christmas. Mary groaned and told him that if he wanted his money back, she would rip the check up faster than you could say 'idiot'. Sam paused for a minute, his slow brain registering what she had just said, and replied with a small 'great, thanks' before hanging up.

Mary decided to not go back to sleep, so she went to the kitchen to make herself breakfast before she went to work on a Saturday, as she always did. Smelling the wonderful scent of pancakes helped Mary get her mind off all her problems. She divided the pancakes into two portions and poured two glasses of milk to go with the pancakes. Bringing the pancakes into the living room for her and her daughter, Mary sang for Sandra to wake up. When the singing did not wake the sleeping nineteen-year old, Mary decided to open the blinds so that the light morning sunlight might wake up the child. But still she didn't wake.

Sandra usually wasn't such a deep sleeper, and now Mary started to worry. She repeatedly tapped Sandra on the shoulder, but she still refused to wake up. She told Sandra right in her ear that she had to wake up, but the girl still refused even move. The beautiful blue eyes stayed shut. Mary took out a hand mirror from the side drawer and held it up to her daughter's nose. No fog formed on the mirror! Mary started weeping uncontrollably, and she broke down on the ground, crying. With a shaky hand, she dialed the hospital and cried to the operator to send an ambulance over right away. Five minutes later, the paramedics arrived and they rushed Sandra to the hospital. She was dead on arrival, as the doctors had put it.

Mary used the hospital phone and tried desperately to reach her daughter Violet. She called all of Violet's friends, but all of then said that they had not seen Violet for a while. Mary decided that everything that was happening was too much for her. She ran out of the hospital and just kept on running, not sure of where she was going to go.

About three minutes later, Mary found that her legs were taking her where she and her daughters had gone so many times when she wasn't working, the small coffee house. She decided that if she just walked, she might be able to calm down and try and find Violet. Mary stumbled over a bush and came into eye contact with a familiar looking pair of red high-tops. She picked up the shoe and realized that there was a leg attached to it. Attached to the leg was a torso, and attached to the torso was a neck and on the neck was a… a head that looked EXACTLY like Violet's. Mary's breathing started to get deeper and deeper and tears started to well up in her eyes. People passing by saw a forty-five year old woman lying in a bush, crying, and someone was bright enough to call the paramedics.

The paramedics arrived, and once again Mary found herself in an ambulance, this time with her other daughter. The doctors once again pronounced the nineteen-year old girl dead on arrival, and Mary went home to her empty house. That night when Mary lay in her pink bed, thinking, crying, she resolved to herself that she would find out who killed her beloved daughter.

The next day Mary received a call from Sam. He had heard the news through a friend who worked at the hospital, and he cried over the phone and told Mary that he would arrange the funerals. Later in the day Mary got a call from the hospital telling her that they had done some tests and they had found how the twins had died. Apparently Violet died from a prescription drug overdose, and Sandra had been poisoned. Mary put the phone back into the holder and started to tremble before the reality hit her that either her daughters had committed suicide, or someone had wanted to kill her daughters, and turned out to be successful in doing so. She preferred to believe the latter one. She decided to be open minded, but strongly believed someone had KILLED her daughters.

She dialed the only person who really hated her two daughters, a classmate named Kathy Grimalof. Kathy had hated Violet and Sandra ever since they were little. Violet and Sandra had always been more popular that Kathy could ever dreamed of, and she hated them for that. Kathy was the type of girl who you did not want to get to know, the kind of girl who always had a mean look on her face, the kind of girl that would kill to get what she wanted. She hated Sandra and Violet in a way that could only be described as pure evil. The former mother or two teenage girls had known that girls would do ANYTHING for popularity these days.

Mary called the operator and asked for a connection to Kathy. Kathy herself picked up the phone, and before the girl was able to sputter out a 'hello'. Mary started to yell and scream and threaten the nineteen-year-old with death threats. Kathy started to cry over the phone and claimed that she didn't do any thing. Mary hung up and felt complete satisfaction. She had found her daughters' killer, and now she was ready to go to the police.

A thought then struck her SHE HAD NO EVIDENCE! The police would never take her seriously. She knew what she had to do. Mary threw on her coat and made her way to the caf' where she and her daughters had loved to go, and where she knew was the place where Violet had been last. Mary stepped into the coffeehouse and was instantly washed over with the scent of coffee. She had loved the atmosphere of the caf', relaxed, yet the d'cor had a fancier appeal to it, and the music was soft and classy. Stepping inside the building brought back too many memories of Violet and Sandra, and Mary could feel her eyes stinging, trying to keep back the tears. Although she was extremely overwhelmed, the middle-aged woman managed to keep her tears back for her daughters, and she stepped up to the counter and asked for a cup of cappuccino.

Casually, she leaned against the counter and asked one of the regular workers, Emma, if she had seen Violet in the past few days. Emma replied that she had seen Violet, just some days back, and she had been rubbing her head and crying over a book. Mary took this information and processed it in her brain over her cappuccino. Cappuccino always made Mary feel better because she knew that it was like taking a minute out of your life just to enjoy some warm sweet-bitter liquid in her mouth. Knowing that she could not stall the analyzing process any longer, Mary finished the last sip of coffee and she realized that it tasted heavier on her tongue, just as her heart had after snapping back into reality and realizing that her two precious daughters were dead.

Twisting a strand of her bleached blond hair between her fingers, Mary came to a conclusion of exactly what had happened. Violet had gotten into a fight with Kathy and Kathy had decided to kill her. Or maybe it wasn't Kathy… Mary realized that her thoughts were going against what she knew was true, and determined to have Kathy put on trial. Now the only thing that Mary had to do was find Sandra's killer.

Calling people had never been one of Mary's favorite jobs, but she needed to do it for her daughter. She called everyone at school and she had asked if Sandra had been in a fight with anyone lately. The only person that people thought that Sandra had been in a fight was with her sister Violet. Mary dismissed the fight as mere sibling rivalry. Mary did not know what to do. She had called everyone and she still had no clues pointing to Kathy. Unless Violet had… NO! Of course Violet had nothing to do with the death of Sandra. The fight was one that sisters had, not something that would actually upset either of the girls. Mary checked her diamond watch with the long hand on the and the short had a little past the 1. Deciding to turn in, Mary changed into her nightgown, picked up her favorite novel, A Bend in the Road, and tried to read, but she cried herself to sleep instead.

The next day there was a knock at the door at about nine o clock in the morning. Stumbling out of bed and moving slowly, Mary walked to the door and opened it slowly. She was surprised to find a red-eyed Sam at her door. Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, Mary quietly asked Sam what was wrong. He explained that he knew who the killer was.

Mary sat silently, shaking, and after what seemed like eternity, asked who. Sam looked up at her; his brown eyes filled with tears, and said something so quietly that not even a dog could hear. But Mary could. Her heart shattered into a million pieces when Sam whispered the name "Sandra".

Going into rage, Mary started yelling about how there was absolutely no way that Sandra would kill herself. When Sam told her that he had hired a private detective that put all of the clues together, Mary got even more furious. Why should he have hired a private detective that didn't even know the sisters! Why should he have hired a detective that didn't even know where they lived! When Sam explained that the detective had searched the girl's rooms, Mary got even more furious. How dare he encourage someone to break into her house! How dare he encourage someone to look through their daughters' things! All the while Sam was trying to explain the situation to Mary. When he said, " There was a note!" Mary instantly fell silent.

Sam slowly pulled out a piece of lined paper from his pocket. "This was in Sandra's room in her desk" Mary read the note Dear mother, I always knew that Violet was your favorite daughter. Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad with yourself either. You gave me everything that you could; I just needed a little more motherly love to feel more special to you. I really will miss you, but I am not so sure how much you will miss me. Love, Sandra P.S. I know that your work is more important to you…

Mary clutched the note very tightly in her hand. She looked up at Sam with wide eyes filled brimming with tears. His brown eyes sparkled as a tear trickled down his pink cheek. " They say Sandra had been suffering from severe depression. They said that it is possible that either you did not see the signs because you were over-working yourself, or that you just did not want to believe it…. " " But what about Violet??" Mary asked in a shaky voice " Sandra killed her. She was jealous of Violet. On the day of her death, the detective tells me that Violet was in a caf' crying over a blinding headache. Sandra had switched Violet's normal aspirins with a different, stronger pill. There was evidence of that in the pill bottle that was in the garbage at the caf'. Violet took three of what she thought was her normal pills, and the pills are so strong that they can cause a drug overdose to someone of her stature. While she was walking home she had dropped dead, and she either fell into the bushes or someone dragged her body there later. Sandra couldn't believe what she had done, so she had gone home, cried and then poisoned herself. She probably died in the early hours of the morning as the poison spread through her body.

Mary had been crying throughout the whole explanation. She could not believe what she was hearing. She broke down on the floor and Sam stood by her, trying to comfort her. She pushed him away and ran up to her room. She slowly pulled out a revolver from one of her light pink dressers…. the one that she had for protection. A shaky hand lifted the gun to her head and a shot rang out through the town as red blood stained the beautiful pink walls. Mary could have saved her daughters…. She could have saved them…. They could be living…. A mother only sees what she wants to see…. She might as well have killed them herself…. It was all too much for a mother to take…. So she took her own life…. The life of a killer….

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