INT. - ROOM - NIGHT 

Neyla stayed in bed until ten a.m. Not that she was having a hard time sleeping, but she was just not in the mood to get up. She had been awake for more than half an hour, and had heard her parents in conversation - for the least animated - about their daughter.

*****

FLASH-BACK:

INT. - KITCHEN - DAY

"That's enough, Karen, I can't stand it anymore!

- Excuse me for worrying! Neyla is more and more inclined to skip class. It must be due to her friends...

- Oh, please! She's a teenager, just like Nils. He is far from being a saint, either ...

- I do not care about Nils. That's my daughter's we're speaking of.

KARL: She's MY daughter too!

- Well, be it! Take care of her, since you seem to like her a lot! (silence) By the way, I wonder where the limits of your love stop... "

Neyla had heard the sound of a slap then, nothing. The teenager had let out a long long sigh. The fact that her own mother hated her didn't bother the young woman -the feelings were returned-, yet she had never  realized the extent of her jealousy before.

Imagining herself making out with her father, Neyla had suddenly been seized with a gag.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

*****

INT - ROOM - DAY (CONT'D)

No wonder the girl preferred to stay at bed! She kept her eyes on the bright white ceiling, thinking about how she would spend her day. Not even a day here, and I'm already bored to death, she thought. She sighed again, imagining a thousand and one scenarios.

But whatever happened in the story, it always led to the same point: the murder of Karen.

*****

FLASH-BACK:

It all started the day when the Davidsons decided to move into this lakeside house for the holidays. With the summer fast approaching, it would have been easy to think that the prices (especially in this kind of chic neighborhoods) would not fit well with the family budget (Karen & her husband were as rich as miser). On the other hand, the fact was that the cost of shanties plummeted in record time, for obscure reasons that no one thought it would be wise to dig.

NILS: You say the house's prices has dropped again? It's weird in the summer, right? Normally, it's the season that brings the most...

Weird. Indeed, the situation could easily be qualifyied this way, but the temptation prevailed over curiosity and mistrust. Nobody looked any further: it was cheaper, it should not be deprived. And too bad for procrastination. It was like that, and not otherwise.

The couple rushed on the occasion without looking back.

The weeks following the booking (the owners turned out to be, to their great delight, their old friends the Loomis) seemed endless and repetitive. Neyla, used to her mother ignoring her (which, let's admit it, was not without displeasure to her: the teenager could thus do what she liked without fear of being reprimanded), witnessed a radical mood change on the part of the blonde. She who often wallowed in silence and hid behind contemptuous glances, became almost hysterical at the slightest change in her little routine, raising her voice, using violence...

As if the building was at the origin of everything, announcing a fatal doom.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

*****

INT. - KITCHEN - DAY

"So, mhh, how's Lewis?, Karl asked his daughter, wiping his mouth. We have not heard from him for a long time.

- Lewis is not my boyfriend, you know...

- Still, you were often together before (he bit into his slice of bread). How come you do not talk about him anymore? You are no longer together, that's it? You can tell me everything, Princess. "

Neyla threw her long hair back.

"We've already talked about it, Daddy. I know Lewis is your boss' son, but it is a"no."I never dated him, and you can't force me to like this guy! We are no longer in Middle-Age! "

With these words, the young woman left the table, almost sending her chair into the earthenware pot behind her. This kind of discussion, she could't bear. Not content with being stinking rich, her parents (especially Karen, in fact) seemed all-out to want to fit her with this kind of missed baseball player (although rather cute, Neyla had to admit it). Well, Lewis was not that bad, but Neyla did not feel anything for him. Neither for anyone else, to tell the plain truth...

She climbed up the stairs slowly and deliberately dragging her feet. Like that, her father could witness the full extent of her despair.

Arriving at her room's door, our heroine stepped back and stood nearby the window. She watched with a jaded eye the curtains of the neighbors swinging with the wind,  rubbing against the plaster with an unpleasant "shrrrr" due to the absence of tiles.

Neyla sighed, remembering her last exchanges with the Stilton son.

*****

FLASH-BACK:

EXT- CAMPUS - NIGHT

The stars, brighter than ever, danced to make it dizzy in the clear skies of July. That evening, Lewis Stilton had invited his best and only friend Neyla to dance at the Summer school party. He had pushed his limits to find the courage to do it. Because, you see, the poor boy did not just feel like friendship for the girl in question. No, it was far more than that. His characteristic timidity had hitherto prevented any attempt, but the young man, following the advice of his parents (who, too, wanted to push him in Neyla's arms to increase the good image of the family), had decided brave his fears and give it a try.

It was double or quits , he knew it, but on the one hand, what was he risking? He had never seen his beloved speak to any other male outside of her family, and both were so close that... obligatorily...

Lewis had met his (he was convinced of it) future girlfriend in college. The love at first sight was almost instantaneous, but nothing ever happened that could have let Neyla know about it.

He therefore invited his dear and tender to the evening and, as a proof of his imminent triumph, she accepted.

The party went perfectly by, and Lewis even managed to hold Neyla's hand. They looked so sweet, so tiny in his. They walked along the main alley, entwined so that they could easily be mistaken for a couple. Although the girl's eyes were focused on the starry firmament, those of  the Stilton son could not help but contemplate a completely different spectacle: the dress of his (soon girl) friend, shorter than usual, twirling in the wind, leaving at times glimpses a thin thread of black lace.

The woman, fully aware of the phenomenon, didn't seem at all embarrassed (on the contrary, she smiled even more).

So he tried a second approach.

END OF THE FASH-BACK

*****

INT. - ROOM - DAY

* Vrrr Vrrr! *

Neyla's eyes went straight to her cell phone.

It was a message from Zoey, her so-called "best friend", asking for news. As if I wanted to spend hours on the phone with this chick! I see her well enough in high school, why come to annoy me ?!

Because no, Neyla had no friends. No one was ever good enough for her, not for her to feel connected with, anyway. If the girl acted like a real social animal, to use Aristotle's expression, on the outside, it was for the only good reason that people could sooner or later bring her some benefit. She got along with others out of pure interest.

It was all words in the air, lies. No real basis of a relationship, all being only smoke and mirrors. Nothing that Neyla said she felt, or did in society reflected her true personality.

Neyla was a psychopath.

She knew it.

She had always known it.

*****

EXT - YARD- DAY

Worried that she had received no thank words from her neighbor for the cake she had so kindly given her (and especially not for the sake of reputation, not at all!), Karen Davidson hastened, as soon as the sun rose, to call the late lady.

Nothing.

"Where are you going?" Karl asked, following his wife with curious eyes.

- I go out. Annie did not contact me as expected yesterday. I'm going to make sure she's fine.

- It's weird, the man commented, thoughtful. She may not have thought about it, with this party... In my opinion, nothing very serious. "

In response, the woman only shrugged and quickened her pace.

When she reached the Loomis' gate (a large sparkling white wrought iron barrier), Karen froze for a moment. There was something strange in the air, like the smell of death itself... She swallowed and looked down at the doorknob. Access was not difficult for her: the door had remained ajar, in the exact position of the previous day.

Although this element seemed unnatural to her, given the excessive caution shown by her neighbor, the woman entered the aisle. A cold wind immediately whipped her face. She ignored it.

Yet this curious phenomenon, however insignificant it was, already foreshadowed a fatal fate.

Karen Davidson couldn't help but jump at the sudden sound of footsteps behind her.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the boy said with an embarrassed smile.

"Ah, Paul! Greeted the woman. It's okay. I'm looking for Annie.

- Oh uh ..."

A long time passed without anyone saying a word. And, as if to add to this silence, the birds stopped in their sweet morning melody.

After looking at each other for several seconds, the teenager cleared his throat.

"I ... I saw you coming along the aisle. The doorbell is broken, that's why we leave the gate opened.

- I see...

- I would have let you in, but unfortunately, I'm afraid that Annie is not yet awake ... She ... She hasn't fully recovered from alcohol ... "

The blond woman looked briefly towards the house, but the closed curtains left little to see.

"Alcohol? However, Annie never usually drinks ...

- Oh uh ..."

Replacing a blond lock behind his ear, Paul hastened to divert the main subject of the conversation.

"By the way, uh, Annie sent me to ask you if you had some eggs.

KAREN (surprised by the sudden question): Uh, sure. How many does she want?

- Four... No, six. Yes, six, that's it. It's to make uh... some pancakes, I think. "

The woman remained silent. The situation seemed to elude her, and part of her was warning her of imminent danger, but she chose not to hold it against her.

She turned back and invited the young man to go through the door of the bungalow.