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Green. All she remembered from before was green. The green of her mothers’ eyes. The green of the soft carpet in the living room. The green of the trees outside the small house on the edge of town. It all went red after. It was how her mother described hell would feel. Harsh. Desolate. Red. Lydia thought she did everything right. She kept her mouth shut like the preacher told her. She never said a word. Why is hell still coming down?
Her mother always said she was her little blessing from God. No matter what the towns people whispered. She was a gift. Whenever Lydia would see things out of the corner of her eye out the window she would always repeat what her mother told her. She was a gift and god will protect me. Even when that thing came so close her tiny head would feel close to exploding what her mother said still rang true over everything else. When she got bullied for being a whores child the phrase always was in her head.
To protect you from sin.
Lydia always thought her mother should have become a nun. She always read the bible. Nothing else. Bed time? bible stories. Music? Church hymns. Everything her mother did related all back to the religion. The town thought she was a crazy woman with an even crazier daughter. They weren’t crazy though. We were just going to heaven and they weren’t. They were all sinners.
Her mother never let Lydia get too close to father John. She said that she was too young to get so close to such a holy man. Maybe she was trying to protect Lydia from something much more horrifying.
She got too close to Father John. He said he wanted to do something that only the holiest children were able to do. She followed him.
Red.
Everything was red.
She felt like the color of sin.
Why did a holy man.
She saw him. The tall man she drew as a small child before her mother frantically moved them both to a smaller town in Alabama.
Oh god.
The static.
Oh my god. The blood.
Everywhere she looked in the backroom where Father John once stood over her doing the most unholy thing a man could do. He wasn’t there anymore.
At least not together anymore.
Lydia was drenched in blood. She felt the liquid drying to her hair. She touched her face and felt dried blood come off. She went to wipe off what she now realized wasn’t her own blood but what remained of a man. A monster.
Her legs trembled but carried her over to what remained of that thing. Laying on his pot belly there were gashes still oozing out fresh blood in the places that always depicted wings to be. The smell of the still fresh blood made Lydia want to pass out. Something in her made her stay. A voice saying to flip it over to see what she can only assume the work she had done to the bastard.
She shouldn’t have flipped him over.
His face was purple and bloated from lack of oxygen and oh god.
His eye sockets were fully exposed with the muscles were expose. So much blood. Everywhere.
Lydia stood back in a state of horror. What had she done? Were there cameras? Will the police find her? What about her mother?
She looked at the clock. 9 pm sharp. No one was supposed to be in the chapel. Not even those who lived there.
She can’t have her mother be brought into this. She was going to hell, and she wasn’t dragging her mother down with her.
She dragged herself into the wooded area behind the church so no one would see her. She hoped that hunting season hasn’t started by now. The summer mugginess just dragged her down even more and made the dried blood now wet with sweat.
Looking behind herself she saw the bloody tract she was leaving and decided to leave her blood soaked church flats in the woods. Throwing them in a different direction she was heading was the safest option to throw off anyone trying to look for her. Faint sirens in the distance she had been traveling away from told her to start running to her home. She started throwing off blood soaked clothing that felt as if it was slowing her down.
First her cardigan.
Then her leggings.
She finally got to her house where her mother was.
Oh god what is she going to do? She knew what the answer to this was. Everything went red again.
She was then holding tightly to her mother’s cold body.
Why.
God her green eyes were clouded over. She didn’t want to look down at the rest of her body because she could feels her own mothers organs. Her mother had been wrong.
She was crazy.
And she only had a little bit of time left until she was hauled off to god knows where for her sins.
It was for the good of her mother. Of the community. She was their savior. Who knows how many girls Father John touched, and she made sure she was the last one. She gave the chance for her mother to go to heaven. She did good. That’s all Lydia repeated to herself as she walked to the bathroom.
She looked old. So old. Her curly hair weighed down with dried and fresh blood. Her soft skin caked in the same thing. Her shoulders and legs and neck were exposed for the first time in a long time. It almost felt exhilarating.
The now hot shower steamed over the mirror that held her reflection. She needed to read the bible. That’ll make all the sin go away. Repeat the lines over and over and over. They were already ingrained in her head, but the book brought comfort.
Stepping over the body she went to her room to get dressed. She felt dirty even though she had scrubbed her skin to the point that it was hot and red. She got dressed in her Sunday best. Long collared white lacey shirt, dark green skirt down to her mid-calf. This would be something her mother would like her wearing. Covered everything a woman should not show. She felt holy. A miracle. An angel. She got her back with everything she wanted. She kissed her mother goodbye like she always did. Her lips stained. she walked over to the stove and put it on full heat.
She grabbed her bible and lit it on fire and put it on her mother.
Maybe it’ll be sent up with her. Maybe the whole house will. Her mother will like that. She looked over at her mothers burning body with the rest of the small living room. It was smiling and waving goodbye to her. Her mother was happy and going to heaven.
She heard the sirens next.
Walking out the house she felt the heat of the fire soon take over the whole house. Red. Everything was red. Everything was a blur.
So much red. How did she get an axe? She didn’t know exactly but she’ll take it. Ripping off the axe holder from the body she placed it on herself with another axe she found.
“Who the fuck are you, you monster?”
She turned to see a man covered in blood dragging himself closer to her as if she had a force surrounding her making him come closer.
She smiled.
“My apologizes sir let me introduce myself. I’m 17 years old. From the middle of nowhere Alabama. Came to this retched place for a few years. Now I’m going to bring the word of God to all sinners.”
“WHATS YOUR FUCKING NAME BITCH.” He shouted with the last bit of energy he had in his body. The smell of burning flesh and fresh blood surrounding the two in their duel.
“Right, right you all are so rude.” She lifts his head with her hand to stare her right in the eyes. Taking out an axe to put it right on his neck. “My name is Lydia. I will free you from all sin.”
While looking in horror into her eyes he lets out a final scream as Lydia makes a sudden chopping at his neck letting the final bits of life drain from his eyes.
Maybe red wasn’t such a horrible color.