Melinda was horrified with herself. How did I forget? This day has always been so important to him. He's always had us visit her grave, the grave that holds the remains of his seven year old sister that died of leukemia six years ago.
"Instead of viewing this day as sacred, the four of you went to a movie to congratulate Savannah on getting a C on her English presentation. Mom and Dad never even mentioned the significance of this day. I did the right thing. They were terrible people. Going through with the adoption only two weeks after their own daughter's death - completely forgetting about her and their real son. Coddling both of you and leaving me in a world of loneliness and despair. They sickened me, and so I decided to rid this world of their worthless existences."
Melinda slid open the drawer behind her. Her fingers gingerly felt around, searching. Suddenly, something struck her. This whole time he's been saying how much he hates his parents, but in truth, he hates us more. What if he's already...?
"Savannah. Have you done anything to Savannah?"
Peter took three steps towards her. "How could I possibly not visit her first?" His eyes lit up and a wicked smile spanned his face. "I gave her a present to congratulate her after all."
He held up the thirteen-inch blade that he clutched in his hand. "One nice stab for each of the years she's lived with us. Like I'll do to you. You, who was unable to protect her. You slept, dreaming of ice cream and ponies while I mutilated her small, defenseless body."
Tears streamed down Melinda's face. Her hand closed around something that she quickly drew out of the drawer and lowered behind her back.
"How could you? She’s all I have." Melinda shook violently where she stood. Throughout the many years that she had lived here, she'd always felt loved, but it was a strange, misplaced love. She had quickly come to understand that her new parents were trying to hide from their own devastation by taking in the newly orphaned girls. They had devoted themselves to the two children, pushing their own son away, seeing him only as a reminder of the beautiful little girl they'd lost which looked so tragically similar to him. Having realized all of this, Melinda had never truly connected with them. The only person she actually loved was Savannah, the young, silly, and seemingly helpless girl that everyone loved and protected, and yet still came off as so vulnerable. Although only a year her junior, Savannah had always seemed so small to Melinda. Whereas Melinda looked and acted a good five years older than she was, Savannah had always behaved much younger than her age. The loss of their parents had affected the two girls in opposite ways. Melinda matured much too quickly. Savannah didn't seem to mature at all. And Peter had taken her away.
Peter resumed his slow advance. Melinda sidestepped behind the kitchen table. Any sign of a smile disappeared from Peter's face as his mind focused on the best way to outmaneuver the girl. At fifteen, he'd have a longer reach than her, but not by much. That girl's a monster, he thought. Over five feet at nine years old. It probably would have been easier if she was asleep like Mom and Dad, but this will be more fun.
He flew at her, slashing at her side as he rounded the table. She leapt away, jumping over the coffee table and rushing upstairs. Peter was closing in on her. She could hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs behind her. At the top of the stairs, she pushed with all her might on the dresser that rested against the wall. It tottered and fell, glancing off Peter's left shoulder as he dodged to avoid it. He cried out in pain, and his already blood-soaked body became even more covered. He pulled a six-inch long sliver of wood from his shoulder and threw it away from him.
Melinda could see her own death in his eyes. She rushed down the hall, and slid into the study, then through the bathroom into the spare bedroom. Sarah's old room, she thought to herself. Why think of that now?
She listened as closely as she could. Nothing could be heard over the volume of her own breathing. She held her breath.
Nothing. Silence. She had no idea where Peter was.
She slid along the wall, silently, hoping to hear him bump into something in the near black that filled the upstairs. Was I right to run up here? Will this really work?
She stopped moving just before rounding the corner where she could see back out into the hall. Slowly, she turned her head and peered around the corner.
"Found you."
