Red Roses

“Helena, how are you feeling today?” Dr. Bonnie Clark sat in front of me, notepad in hand with my large file on the dark coffee table. I pondered the question as I took a long drag of my cigarette. It’s been a whole year since his execution.

Dear old dad. Victor Waters, A.k.a The Red Roses Killer, 20 counts for murders, 3 counts of concealing a dead body and a fuck ton of counts of child endangerment. He was caught when I was nine years old, sentenced when I was ten and executed shortly after my 20th birthday. He was a monster, he killed them all in our basement. “Playtime” he called it.

“Helena?” Clark’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I looked up at her. Blond with blue eyes, she often reminded me of Harley Quinn before The Joker got in her head. “Today’s the anniversary, one year today. How are you feeling right now?” She smiled. Dr. Bonnie Clark has been my therapist since my father got caught. The sessions are mandatory by the order of the state. Dr. Clark, every Monday and Wednesday for the rest of my life. Technically I could’ve just sat in her office for an hour and a half and not tell her anything but, it’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t think you’re the spawn of Satan.

“I feel…” I trailed off. His image pops into my mind. His dark skin,nearly black eyes and a smile that always sent a chill down my spine. His last words will always haunt me.

“You have your mother’s eyes”

“I’m glad he's dead. I am. I no longer live in fear of him. He was a monster who got what he deserves.” I took another drag of my cigarette. Clark wrote on her pad and adjusted her glasses. She passed the ashtray to me. As I flicked the ashes I quietly thanked her. “I just want to forget him. To erase him from my thoughts.”

“I’ve been rereading Victor’s statements about your relationship with him. He said and I quote ‘When I finished one off I would take my sweet girl to get ice cream.’ He also said that he would give you the jewelry from his victims. He'd take you museums, amusement parks." She stopped for a sip of water. “According to him, you had an otherwise perfect childhood.”

I began shaking my leg. She noticed. I finished the last bit of my cigarette and put it out in the tray. I chuckled, the last puff of smoke leaving my lungs. “‘Perfect childhood’? I spent the first eight years of my life in fear. Eight years of waking up wondering if this is the day he kills me.” My voice got louder with rage. “Eight years of him “rating” those poor women’s screams. And now I have to spend the rest of my life knowing that there was something I could have done to stop it, but-” Tears welled in my eyes. “But I didn’t because I was too scared.”

Clark reached over, handed me a tissue. “It’s not your fault. You were too young, your mind was in self preservation mode. Who knows what him would've done to you if you told someone." She placed a hand over mine. “Victor was a monster, you are not him.”

“That’s not what the media said.” When Victor was caught many of the victims' family believed that I helped by not saying anything; therefore I should be charged too. But thanks to Victor’s journal. The court ruled that I wasn’t involved in any way.

“Are you still receiving letters? Death threats?”

“All day everyday. Though they’re not all death threats. Some are from those killer museums hoping for something of his. Same from his psycho fans. I recently got a letter from one girl saying that she should’ve been my mother.” I let out a soft laugh. Clark's watch goes off. She begins to place her new notes into her file, as I gather my things.

“How about next time we talk a little bit about your mother. We can start small and build up when you get comfortable.” She looked at me, blue eyes filled with hope. I let out a sigh.

It’s time. I thought. I should talk about her soon, why not now? “Yeah, we can.” I picked out my purse and headed for the door. “See we next Monday, Dr. C.”

“Goodbye Helena.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I entered my apartment to see my roommate, Penelope Cane, making herself food. “Hey Lena.”

Penelope was the only friend I had in this small town when I moved here. She was the only one in school who didn’t fear. So after high school we moved in together. She was my polar opposite. The pale to my darkness. Her red hair was something I was always envious of. “How was therapy?”

I sat down on the couch before I asked. “I cried a bit, but pulled it together thanks to Clark. She wants to talk about my mom next time. I think it’s time.” Penelope smiled and sat next to me, handing me half her sandwich.

“That’s good, Lena. I’m so proud of you!” She wrapped an arm around me. She truly was the only friend I had.

After we finished eating she spoke again. “ Well, I’m going to take shower, then we can watch movies and order take out for the rest of the day.”

“That sounds really good right now, Penny. Thanks.” I smiled at her. She gave me a quick hug,

“Anything for my best friend!” As she headed towards the bathroom she paused. “Oh right you have some mail. One looked really important, like the credit bureau of something.”

“Okay, thanks.” I walked over to the pile of mail and found the letter Penny spoke of. It was a small yellow package, I could feel the bubble wrap within. Why would the bureau send a package?

Helena R. Waters

1001 South Jackson St

I opened the package, it held two items: a small piece of paper and something covered in so much bubble wrap so I couldn’t see what it was. I read the note.

Happy Anniversary! Let’s play a game.

In your hometown, by the river.

A pretty blond waits for you.

Filled with your father’s favorite flower.

My gift to you.

-S

“What the fuck?” I whispered. I grabbed the tightly wrapped item and slowly unwrapped it; once I realized what it was I let out a scream.

In a small plastic bag were red roses petals and a white ring finger.