Layla POV

Me and my mom rode in the golf car in silence. I was on 67th Street, and her house was clear in site. I just wondered how we were going to get in.

My mom was completely pissed. I ripped my eyes off the road to glance at her. Her features were all shriveled up. My face would be too if I was seeing my lying, annoying sister.

She doesn't even know we found out about her encounter with Charles so, this trip should be interesting. The sun was setting and the sky was turning a dark orange color. I pulled up on her parkway.

She had a really nice house. She got all of her wishes granted and burdens lifted from her. My grandparents aka my Mommies parents gave her the house. She was their favorite and it's always been that way. Everything my mother worked for, Maria just had to have it.

She couldn't stand my mother having things she doesn't because she wanted it all. Her self centered soul not only ate at herself, but other people.

One we got out the golf cart, I scanned the area finding a way to get in. My mother just wandered infront of the house searching under the mat.

Curious I asked. "Hey, what are you doing mom?"

She sighed. "She always keeps a spare under the mat. What a nut. It's obvious."

I laughed as I watched her unlock the door.

Maria POV

I searched my drawers finding my piece. With tears stinging my eyes, I frantically tried to find it. I pulled out each drawer trying to find my gun.

I moved my undergarments out of the way and there it lays. I picked it up, examining the object that can end my life. I couldn't live my life without Damien. Charles wasn't an essential like Damien was.

He's hospitalized because some slut stabbed him. I swear if I knew who they were, I would kill them with my bare hands.

I put the cold barrel against my temple. I started to tremble at the thought of suicide. What else did I have to live for. I cocked my gun and closed my eyes. Right before I pulled the trigger, I heard footsteps downstairs.

I instantly took the gun from my head and held it upwards. I stood up from the bed and opened my door with my foot. I walked down the hall and barged in the upstairs bedrooms.

To my avail, they were all vacant. I went downstairs; constantly waving my gun around to try to fire at the target. I checked my kitchen, nothing. I checked the last place in my house; my bathroom. I barged in and waved my gun.

I was about to shoot but, I examined the faces.

"Hey, don't shoot." Layla said.

"Please Maria, put the fucking gun down." Nancy told me, rolling her eyes.

I lowered my gun slowly, and pondered. Why are they bloody, and why are they in my house?

Layla POV

What the fuck is Maria's problem, waving that gun and shit. I scowled at her, disgusted with her attempt to take us out.

"Hey, can we use your shower Aunt Maria." I said throwing up in my mouth.

Aunt Maria. Gross.

She ripped her eyes off my mom to look at me. "Yeah sure." She said.

"There's a change of clothes upstairs." She said rubbing my arm.

I flinched at her touch and forced her out of the bathroom, leaving me and my mother.

"Mom, the way she was looking at me," I said, gulping hard. "I didn't like it."

She held my face and caressed my face with her thumb. "How did she look at you baby?"

"I know she's curious about all of this blood Damien left on us." I said nonchalantly.

"After we shower and get out of these bloody clothes, we need to leave." I told her. "I don't want to have to kill her too."

I've been kind of hostile and merciless after Damien tried to rape me. It gave me rhinoceros skin. I don't feel much emotion anymore. In a strange way, the deaths brought me and my mother closer.

It gave us trust and reliance. Those bad people deserved it anyways.

My mom interrupted my thoughts by speaking. "We won't have to kill her baby girl." She said smiling lightly.

I nodded and proceeded to strip my clothes away.

Maria POV

I put my ears against the door, being nosey. I used to do this to Nancy when we were young. I laughed quietly at the thought.

I started to listen in and I heard Layla's voice.

"Mom, the way she was looking at me,"she said. "I didn't like it."

I felt my face drop. Of course I would look at you, you're soaked in blood, running in my house out of nowhere.

"How did she look at you baby?" I heard Nancy say.

"I know she's curious about all of this blood Damien left on us." She said nonchalantly.

I gasped and covered my moth immediately. I couldn't believe my ears. I fought my tears away and sucked it up. After breathing in a few times, I continued to listen in.

"After we shower and get out of these bloody clothes, we need to leave." She told her. "I don't want to have to kill her too."

I ran away from the door and headed right upstairs. That little bitch wants to kill me. Okay, fine. Someone is going to die today. I cocked my gun and smiled.

"It's not going to be me."

Layla POV

"Turn around mom." I giggled.

"Layla Amaya Osodo," she started. "I've seen you naked. Did you forget I held you for nine months? Half of you is my body sweetie." She said laughing hysterically.

I just laughed with her. Once the laughter died down, I got completely naked and hopped in the shower.

My mom just stood in the mirror, popping a pimple to try avoid looking at me.

The warm water droplets beaded against my skin. The blood on me instantly trickled down my body; spiraling into the drain.

The last of him was gone, forever. Damien was a dirty, psychotic, sick excuse of an uncle. I'm glad the bastard is gone.

I grabbed the apple scented body wash and lathered it in my hands. I began to caress my body, softly rubbing it onto my skin. The bubbles turned black because of the dirt and grime. I rinsed off the soap and repeated. Once I was done, I grabbed a towel from the towel rack and dried off inside the shower. I then stepped out, and walked towards the mirror. I then, looked at my foggy reflection.

I went closer and drew a smile on the fog, with my face right behind it. I looked to the side and saw my mother unrobing. I looked back in the mirror and looked at myself. The sound of the shower turning on reminded me of my mothers presence.

Oh! I forgot, my mother is hurt, because of stupid Damien.

I started to scavenge for a first aid kit for my mothers wound. I grew more angry that Damien did that to her.

I searched the lower cabinet and found one. I opened it slowly and it revealed sutures, gauze, alcohol, and a variety of different bandaids.

My mom hopped out the shower and saw me setting up the bandages.

"Hey Layla, why do you have that?" She asked, while drying her hair.

"Come sit down." I ordered.

She sat on the toilet, and I lifted the towel to reveal her cut. It was about 2 inches but it wasn't that deep, so she wouldn't need stitches. It would scab on its own.

I poured alcohol on her leg and she breathed in painfully in response.

"Did that hurt a lot?" I asked concerned.

"I gave birth. This is nothing." She said proudly.

I laughed and I continued to address her wound. After the alcohol, I smothered her leg in antiseptic ointment and topped it off with a wrap. I didn't want any infections and I'm sure she didn't either.

She stood up and I did too. We headed upstairs only in our towels.

I ravaged through Maria's closet, considering we are all practically the same size. I picked out a pink t-shirt, black jeans and, some white vans. She already had 3 extra pairs of the same shoes.

My mom got a black button up shirt, some mom jeans, of course, and some black tennis.

It wasn't the stuff she usually wears but it'll have to do. She even grabbed a watch.

"No!" I scolded, smiling.

"Layla, since we are here, we might as well leave in style." She said gazing at the watch.

I snatched it off and put it back. She looked at me, pouting.

"You're no fun." She said crossing her arms, fighting the smile that crept on her face.

"Oh, since when were you the fun type?" I asked laughing.

She stood there silent.

"Exactly." I said snickering.

We both walked out and headed downstairs back to the bathroom. We picked up our clothes and headed outside to discard them.

When we walked back in we were greeted by Maria cocking her gun at us, again.