A writing exercise reflecting two perspectives of a horrific situation.
This is a piece written for my Fiction writing class I’m currently enrolled in. In this class, we’re required to do a variety of writing exercises to help us expand our imagination, and strengthen our skill set. I’ll be posting them on my website here as the class continues so you all have the opportunity to see my writing in a different realm/light. I hope you enjoy~!
Prompt: Choose two characters who are in a situation in which one confronts the other as having done something wrong or broken the rules in someway. Tell about the incident from both perspectives, using first person view. Show how each character distorts things in his or her favor.
There was blood. Red, oozing, thick, streams upon streams, radiating in the sullen sunlight, the magnificent hour, the scarlet survivor, the solitude of my sanctuary. The red still rumbled, bubbled on my skin, just as my relief staggered forward, like my legs, weak but strong, my head, dizzy, but clearer than ever before. His eyes were lulled in the back of his head…his hands no longer twitched, he was gone. My sister, aside me like a newborn deer, hardly able to stand, clung to my leg, streams of salt pouring down her face. It was okay now. We were okay now. This had to be done – he had left me with no choice. Granted, I lived a life with no choices for 16 years, locked within this house, watching my sister have her hands tied as punishment, feeling skin to skin, impact, constantly and forever. There was no light. No windows. No mother to coo and sooth our hopelessness. But now it didn’t matter. In seconds, I painted him in red, after all the years of black and blue.
But then the door opened. Our aunt, who checked in on us occasionally with the meekness of a newborn lamb, dropped to her knees.
“Y-you…Scarlet…Wh-at have you?” She could hardly find her words as she scrambled to him, dead on the floor.
“He was going to hit Nora ag-“ I began but her hands flew up before me, painted in my father’s blood.
“He…he was your father. H-how, just…God, Richard!” her meekness seemed to disappear behind irrevocable rage as she screamed out his name, painting her own face with his blood as she wiped away her tears.
“You knew what he did to us…” I said, laying a hand on Nora’s trembling shoulder.
“I-I…” Our aunt stood, the knife I used about 30 minutes ago hanging in her fingers. She walked towards me, and Nora’s grip tightened. I straightened myself, trying to act fearless. It touched my throat within moments. “…loved him. I loved him. And you took him away.”
“…our mother…was the one who was supposed to love him…” I choked as the pressure of the blade increased.
“Your mother isn’t here anymore…I’m here.”
I was wearing scarlet. Scarlet red was his favorite color, the color that he’d strip off of me each and every night when the parasites were put to bed. I was going to see him again. It was going to be romantic. Lunch, a movie, whatever he had planned. I didn’t care, as long as I was able to see him. Be with him, breath him in. I wondered of the sweet nothings he’d whisper to me in the evening, the promises of our future. Everlasting. Ageless. God, I could just feel my limbs tremble, thinking of his pulse against mine. But then there was the two of them. The leeches that stole his pulse away. They sucked his life, regardless of how hard he tried to control their clamy little fingers. But it’s alright. He was going to whisk me away the moment I opened this door.
Scarlet. Everywhere. The blood, covering his face, his chest, his hands heavy with sand and iron. He was dead – God, my god, he was dead. And she killed him. I could see the blood all over her, her scarlet hands. Scarlet face. Scarlet – she killed him. My love. My life. My everything I was ever meant to be.
“Y-you…Scarlet…Wh-at have you?” I gritted my teeth, looking at the girl, the murderer.
“He was going to hit Nora ag-“ I could feel my hands shake, his blood seeping into my skin. How dare her. How dare they?!
“He…he was your father. H-how, just…God, Richard!” I screamed out his name, painting my face with his blood as I wiped away my tears.
“You knew what he did to us…” Oh I knew. You brat. You parasite. But I didn’t care. You kept him from me. Both of you. Now…now…I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you suffer.
“I-I…” I stood, the murder weapon hanging in my fingers. I staggered towards them, my eyes on Scarlet’s throat, on her beating pulse. A pulse she didn’t deserve. “…loved him. I loved him. And you took him away.”
“…our mother…was the one who was supposed to love him…” I put the blade to her neck.
“Your mother isn’t here anymore…I’m here.”