Wealth can sometimes be deceiving. In other words, "All that glitters is not gold"
As she made her way towards the bus stop, Aleesa knew she was making the right choice. She walked confidently down the dirt road. There would be no turning back. She looked at the horrible scorches and bleeding wounds, on her, what should have been, perfectly smooth skin. A single tear trickled down her sweaty face as a few others followed suit. Trembling fingers reached to wipe them off as a look of determination and power filled her eyes, which have cried many sleepless nights in bed, too scared to sleep, too scared that death would creep under her covers.
She stopped at a bench and touched the cold wood with pale fingers, running them slowing over the top. The last time she came to this bench was two years ago. It was newly built with fresh paint and glowing with pride. Now it has become so badly weather -beaten to the point that the paint as peeling off and the arms leaned to one side. She thought if how it represented a perfect print her her life; of what she was and what she has become within a matter of two years; twenty-three and looking twice her age.
She circled the bench twice before she came to rest on the centre. Alone in the dead of a frigid night under the watch of a few stars unknown to her as everyone else in the world. But she felt safer in the open than within the confines of four walls that always seem to stare back at her with a lost, dead stare or sometimes in mockery and hate.
One glance in the direction she came from and her heart jerked violently. At the sight if the red roof rising above the tress, she felt like a freed princess and the guilt descended upon her which was quickly erased by revenge and abominance .
Now she could see it like a movie before her, two years back. It was a cold and rainy night when she slipped out of her bedroom window of their old, one flat home. She met him by the gate and saw a triumphant smile on his face, as he whispered in her ear, "It's done". She was too blind to realize that she had welcomed calamity on her life. Her father had worked his fingers to the bones to provide for her needs. She longed her affluency. Her father promised to give her off in marriage but when he met the man she was in love with, her father refused. The man she loved was gambler and a rich one at that too. Aleesa was so desperate that she did what had to be done on 30th December, 1993 at 11:52 pm. She eloped, leaving her father and the candle of life snuffed out forever and the smoke of death floating through the shutters.
Living in a mansion-of-a-house for the first six months was like living in paradise. Then the changes took place. Her mansion became a prison and she was fed lashes from a drug-beast of a "husband". She suffered for one and a half years hoping for a change but none came.
Aleesa realised that her father was right but to what avail when he's no more. She has become a murderer after living with one. That somehow motivated her next move.
At exactly 11:40 pm, 30th December, 1995, she took a silencer and crept up to the edge of the bed, where he laid, in deep, devilish slumber, snoring away in subconsciousness. Closing her eyes and holding the silencer with both shaking hands, she pulled the trigger and thereafter heard no more snoring as the dead mass soared into unconsciousness beyond. Crying, she clutched the silencer ever so tightly and fled the house.
Now as she sat with the gun in her hands on the bench, she thought if how alone she was and what she has made herself into. At the moment she knew there was no turning back. Slowly, but surely she raised the silencer to her head, looked at the time; precisely 11:52 pm. Grievously, she repeated the two years old phrase that had escaped her "late husband's" mouth, "It's done", and she pulled the trigger.