Mandy Wilson

Mandy watched the girl on the television run.

She was about thirty minutes into Halloween and honestly she was unimpressed. Was this really what she was staying up past her bedtime for? Was this really worth the risk of her mother finding out that she was not in fact really asleep, preparing for the next day in which she would go to school and learn just like the good children?

Mandy was only ten, but scary movies fascinated her enough that she decided, yes, this was worth it. It was worth every minute, of watching the young girls run on the screen. They were usually blonde, with big chests that nearly popped out of their shirts as they frantically tried to escape the guy with the knife. But it was funny to Mandy, because the guy with the knife never seemed to be chasing them. No, he was simply walking after them.

She supposed, that when people were truly afraid of you, you didn’t need to try. They would do something stupid and slip up, and you would catch them. And then after that was Mandy’s favorite part. After that was when the pretty girls got tackled to the ground and the man in the mask would stick his knife right into them. He never hesitated, he was confident about what he was doing, he knew exactly where to cut them too.

Sometimes he toyed with them, letting their blood spill into their eyes as he cut them again. Or maybe even just hit them. He never spoke, he didn’t need to either. He was the master and they were his puppets. Mandy thought about it for a second and she smiled to herself. Even if it was just a movie, she found that she could admire him.

Actually, she thought it was a little bit more than admiration. She didn’t want to be like him either, she wasn’t just idolizing him. But, somewhere in her ten year old mind, she wanted to be him. But she knew that was impossible. There was no way she could ever actually be Michael Myers. She would have to settle for second best. Mandy Wilson. She thought that sounded good to the ears, but at the same time, she knew it wasn’t the same. So she would really have to kick it up a notch, when deciding who she was going to toy with first.

Now these ideas weren’t out of nowhere, in fact they had been a long time coming, you see. Because Mandy Wilson loathed, everyone at her elementary school. Especially the captain of the blue team in her gym class. All Mandy had wanted to do was be the girls friend, but to no avail the girl, who went by Clair Robertson, never paid any mind to Mandy. And Mandy would get put on the red team by default.

She didn’t know why she had originally wanted to be Clair’s friend. All she knew now, was that because she couldn’t be, Clair was going to have to pay. A big price.

The thought made Mandy smile, as she slipped on brown Uggs and a darker brown parka. She didn’t care that it was almost ten at night. Clair lived in the same town, and it was better to use the element of surprise anyway right? It wasn’t like she could very well risk doing it in broad daylight, since her mother would never let her get out the door to begin with. She smiled wider. She even knew where Clair’s room was, so for her first time, this was easy as pie. All she would have to do was get through the window. It would be ideal if it was unlocked, but if it wasn’t she would have to risk breaking and entering. Because this was going to happen.

She pulled her own jet black hair into a tight ponytail and then slipped out of her bedroom, into the hallway. The only sound to be heard in the entire house was from the bedroom next door to hers, and it was the soft snores of her father, along with the faint drone of Saturday Night Live. Mandy was happy at these results, and tiptoed down the stairs. Feeling along the railing, as her eyes have not adjusted to the dark yet. Lucky for her, her stairs were brand new, and for now going down them resulted in no noise at all. She would go unnoticed. All it took was the simple unlocking of the door at the bottom of said stairs, and then she was out in the cold night air.

Once outside, she was happy to see that the shears her mother used on the hedges was still sitting on the porch steps. She would hate to risk going back inside, at least not yet. She didn’t really care how much trouble she got into after this was over. But at least once she needed to be who she thought Mandy Wilson was born to be. She grabbed the shears and held them behind her back for protection, though she didn’t think she would need to.

The street was bare too, it was full of houses which Mandy was sure were full of sleeping people. All getting ready for the next day, and having no idea what she was up to. In fact, it almost seemed like the houses were watching her. Their dark eyes followed her down the street, until she got to the very end that is. She was surprised that she hadn’t seen a single person, it was almost like the fates wanted this to happen. At least that was how it seemed to her.

And then she saw Clair’s house. It was a cobble stone, just like hers. Only this one only had one floor, and no gate. Like the rest of the houses, this one was dark, suggesting that everyone inside it was sleeping.

Mandy approached the window, to the room she knew was Clair’s. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and despite the chill of the wind she could feel her palms sweating as she gripped the wooden handle of the shears. This window was the kind that you could just push in, and it would open. So holding her breath, she tried it.

And it worked, almost flawlessly. Except for the enormous creak that it made. Mandy ducked down, trying to at the same time to keep an eye on the still figure across the room in the bed. It was Clair of course, and she remained still.

Mandy didn’t want to wait anymore, nor did she want to risk closing the window and having it squeak again. So she hastily climbed though. Clair still did not stir from her sleep. Not even as Mandy stood over her, eyes adjusting to the darkness yet again. She could see the shallow rise and fall of the other girls chest. It was exactly the motivation she needed though, as she raised the shears.

Clair opened her eyes just as the blades were brought down on her throat. All she got out was a hoarse croak as she looked into Mandy Wilsons eyes, and blood sprayed the crazed girls face. She was smiling, as she pulled the shears back out.

The sound of the suction was like music to her ears. The sight of the sticky crimson on the shiny blade was pure art to her. But there was nothing better than watching the girl before her twitch, and struggle to make sound as her lungs began to fill with her own blood. Clair’s eyes had glazed over as they fought to keep the light in them. But Mandy knew it was fading. And it was too easy.

Angry about how easy this had been, she brought the shears down again, almost laughing at the gushing noise it made as more blood oozed out. She could feel it drying on her own skin, and absentmindedly licked it off her upper lip. The coppery liquid was sweeter than to be expected.

She pressed them down more, and for the final time, with a grunt. The other girl wheezed in a desperate attempt to fight back, but it was a futile attempt. Clair’s body went limp. And Mandy was furious.

She didn’t get to play with her the way she pictured. But really that was okay, because no one would suspect a ten year old girl of this. Never.

Mandy would take a lesson from this, because it would not be the last time. And she made that clear, as she took the shears and forced them into the girls exposed stomach. More blood pooled as she carved her initials.

For good measure, she added a smiley face.