Sunday, 16 January 2011
03:12:03 AM (GMT)
"I don't want to help her. I never do. But she's my sister. I've always helped her,
since we were little. No matter what she asked, I always did. She can be scary
sometimes, I suppose." Isabella sighed, and shifted her weight. The psychologist kept
staring at her chest, and she didn't even feel like talking to him anyway. She waited
patiently for him to realize she had stopped talking. He blinked, several times,
"Ah, yes, how does being your sister mean you have to take part in her...
activities." He asked, raising his eyebrows. No one ever wanted to call it what it
was, because her "activities" were sick. Completely wrong, in so many ways, and
Isabella knew it.
"Because she's family, dip shit. Don't you know what family means? She's all I have."
Isabella gave him the look of death, daring him to question why, daring him to step
into treacherous waters.
"But why would you assist in such activities? Surely you knew it was wrong?" The man
asked, sitting up in his chair, and crossing his legs- his eyes returning to
Isabella's chest. Isabella sighed, and shook her head.
A smirk played on her lips, "You saw the things she and I did to those people, didn't
you? She didn't need my help, most of the time. Imagine what she would have done had
I said no, and argued with her? My twin, she's not a very nice little girl when she's
The psychologist stares at her, trying to contain himself. He had seen the things
they did to those people and it made him nasueous to think about it. Isabella knew
this, that's why she said it. He composed himself, and asked, "Speaking of 'little
girls' why don't you tell me what happened when you two were ten. That was the first
time she made you do it, wasn't it?"
Isabella sighs, and begins the tale she's had to tell a thousand people already.
The girls giggled, and Belle rushed her twin
into the closet, shushing her. They always hid from their stepmother, whom Belle had
convinced Isabella to hate.
"Now, Bella, sweetie, I need you to do something for me, okay?" Belle whispered,
gently petting her twin's beautiful brown ringlets. They were both beautiful
children, with their tan skin, dark perfect hair, and adorable pouting lips. They had
big green eyes that shocked people, because most would expect brown eyes- however
their mother had caused that not to happen.
"What do you want me to do sissy?" Isabella asked, trying to stay as quiet as
possible. She wrapped her arms around her older twin, and cuddled her. Isabella had
always been the weaker, clingier twin, but then again, with Belle's personality- she
never had the chance to be anything but.
A devious, dangerous smile appeared on Belle's face, "I need you to do exactly
everything I tell you to, okay?"
Isabella nodded, willing.
"Isabella? Isabelle? Where are you two girls? I need you to help me in the kitchen!"
Their stepmother shouted, and Belle rolled her eyes. They had maids for that sort of
thing, and Belle was tired of this woman trying to make her do things.
"Bella, you have to go out there, and you have to talk to her. Don't let her turn
around, okay? Just keep talking to her. Be you're cute little self for me, okay?"
Belle stroked Isabella's cheek softly, and smiled, "Don't worry, mommy would be so
happy if she saw us doing this. Actually, she's watching now. I bet she's thinking
that we'll be all better if we do this." Belle kissed Isabella's forehead, "Okay? So
you go out there and talk to her."
Isabella nodded, and skipped out of the closet. She beamed at their stepmother, who
smiled softly at the beautiful innocent child. She didn't know what was going to
happen to her. She had no idea. Isabella watched at the noise screamed in her ears,
and watched as their stepmother stopped talking, and suddenly, she fell to the
ground, blood pooling around her. Isabelle looked up, horrified, and saw Belle
holding a gun, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
"Isabella. Get the maid, the one we don't like. Now." Belle continued to look at the
body, grinning like a child given a new toy. Isabella called for the maid, and once
she came, she stared, horrified, at all that was in the kitchen. The maid went into
shock, and froze. Belle knew this would happen, and she took the maid's hand, leading
her to the dead woman's body. She carefully put the gun in the maid's hand, and told
the maid to sit down. The maid did, not knowing exactly why or what to do.
"Isabella, I have juice in my room, please get it. We need to give it to the maid."
Isabella nodded, and ran to go get the juice. Belle pet the maid while she waited,
talking to her soothingly, saying things like, "It's alright that you shot her. No
one likes her anyway, it's okay, you won't get in trouble. I'll just give you
something to make you sleep and this will all be a dream."
Isabella returned with the juice, and Belle made the maid drink it all.
"Belle, will we get in trouble? I'm scared." Isabella's body trembled, this wasn't
supposed to happen. They were supposed to be good little girls. Belle smiled softly
at her, and carefully wrapped her sister in her arms.
"No, Bella, I promise we won't. Let's go up to our rooms, and we can play. We're just
little girls, they wouldn't blame us. The maid did it, Bella."
"But she-" Isabella began, but Belle glared at her.
"The maid did it, Bella."
The psychologist's draw dropped, and Isabella
"You mean, your sister, at age ten, killed your stepmother, and already knew how to
frame the maid? Are you sure that was all her?" It was unbelievable, and that's why
it made no sense for Belle to have done it, and that's why she got away with it.
Isabella just grinned at him, because why on earth should she try and convince him?
He was just there to try and get inside her brain, but it seemed more like he was
trying to get inside her pants. At least, he wanted to anyway.
"That doesn't make any sense, Isabella." He finally stated, and Isabella laughed,
"Think of all the sick things we did, and tell me if any of them made any damn sense?
Tell me, mister psychologist, did they make sense?" She raised her eyebrows, and
crossed her legs, and then her arms.
He coughed, "I, uh, I suppose we should carry this along. When was the uh, next time
you participated in such...activities."
Isabella grinned, knowing she had finally made him uncomfortable. She enjoyed this so
"Why don't you call it, killings. Murders. Call it what it is, Phillip. That is your
name, isn't it? That's what Belle told me." Belle had told her no such thing, but
since everyone was convinced twins were conjoined at the brain, it was easy to play
"Belle, how...how could she? Isabella your twin has never met me. Now, could you
answer my question?" Phillip squirmed, he didn't like talking to this girl anymore,
as pretty as she was. Isabella leaned forward, allowing her cleavage to show, and she
scooted as close to the edge of her seat as she could, so she would be completely
close to Phillip.
"But you don't want to hear about it, you're just waiting till I get to really really
hot parts, where Belle and I get really weird, but it's kinky so it's hot- right?"
She raised and eyebrow and smirked, "Don't tell me you haven't read the files and
drooled over those details. Everyone else has."
"Ah, erm, just, answer the question, please."
Isabella really knew how to make them squirm, she had the best teacher, of course.
School was hard for the girls, who never separated from one another. Boys always
wanted to talk to them, to touch them. By the time they were in junior high, girls
hated them for their looks, and boy loved them for it. There were constant rumors
that the girls were incestuous lesbians, the way they clung to one another, and
ignored all the boys. The truth was, Isabella wanted friends, and she wanted the boys
attention, but Belle wouldn't have it. Belle wouldn't share her sister, for fear her
sister would share their secrets. Belle thought she could keep Isabella happy, but
one day after school she found Isabella on the phone.
"Bella, what are you doing?" She asked, sweetly at first.
"Nothing Isabelle, I'm just on the phone." Isabella blew the question off, not
thinking about who she was talking to.
"Who are you talking to, Isabella? Who wants to talk to you? No one wants to talk to
you. We don't have friends!" Belle acted as if she was going in a panic. Isabella
looked at her sister, wide eyed.
"Someone from school, Belle. I made a friend, do you want me to get off the phone? We
can talk, if you'd like." Isabella was patient with her, and got ready to get off the
phone. Belle stormed out of the room, furious. Isabella quickly got off the phone to
go tend to her twin. Belle mad was never something the girl wanted. As Isabella
rushed to their shared bedroom, she found the door locked. She knocked on the door
quietly, and she only heard muffled sounds from inside. Fear gripped Isabella, she
knew her twin, anything could be happening. She ran down the hallway, and quickly
climbed up the staircase to the attic. The attic held several doors, that led to
several stairs, which led to the lower level rooms. These secret entrances were
installed by their father, specifically because Belle had begged for it. Isabella
knew all these doors by heart, for she and her twin had used them many times before
to spy on their father, and anyone else in the house. She crept into the doorway that
led to their bedroom, and climbed down the stairs quietly. She opened the door as
softly as possible, and gasped at what she saw.
Blood trickled down Belle's cut up arms, and tears soaked her pretty face, and kept
falling from her eyes. She kept running the razor blade over her arm, never looking
up or stopping, sobbing so hard her body shook. Belle heard her twin's gasped and
looked up at her, and her mouth dropped open. She suddenly began shrieking, "They
can't take you away! You're mine! I'll die if they take you away! I'll kill myself if
you leave! If they take you! They can't, that can't ever happen! I try to protect you
and they still come and get you! You can't let them! Oh Bella you can't!" She sobbed,
and dropped the razor, falling to her knees, showing her twin her bloody arms.
Isabella stared, horrified. Her twin was insane, she knew it, but she had to take
care of her. She walked to her twin and pet her hair gently, "Belle, I'm going to get
something to take care of your arm. You have to calm down, Belle, you can't do this
to yourself." Isabella tried to be as calm as possible.
"No! Don't leave me! You can't leave me! Promise me!" Belle gasped, and lay on the
ground, letting herself bleed on the carpet, "Don't leave me!"
Isabella jumped away, terrified.
"I won't, I won't Belle, I just have to get some band-aids and some medicine. I won't
ever leave you I promise, I won't let them take me I promise. I'll do everything you
say, promise. It'll just be us, okay?" Isabella didn't think about what she was
saying, she just wanted her twin to stop scaring her. Belle stopped sobbing, and
Isabella ran to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When she returned, Belle was
sitting up, staring at the mess she'd made.
"I'm sorry for scaring you Bella. I won't do it again. Promise, I'll even clean this
all up. Just don't break your promises and we'll be okay, won't we? We'll be
perfectly fine. Just you and me, always." Belle smiled at Isabella, who looked at
her, an empty look on her face. Belle watched her twin take the bandages and the
wraps and start cleaning Belle's arms. Belle pet Isabella as she did this, whispering
to her in what she thought was a soothing tone. Isabella finished cleaning her sister
up, and went back to put away the first aid kit.
"You know what we have to do, don't you Isabella?" Belle yelled to her. Isabella
returned to their bedroom and raised her eyebrows in question.
"What we do to people we don't like, like our stepmother. We have to take care of the
person who tried to take you, Isabella. That person has to go away, we can't have
them trying again."
"But...you said... you said the maid did it. You said the maid. And, I, I want
friends Belle. I want them. I want a boyfriend. I want to get kissed and held just
like the other girls do!" Isabella sat down across from her sister, her lip trembling
as she tried not to cry.
"Isabella, you know we did it. You know you helped me do it. You helped blame the
maid. And Isabella, I can be all those things for you, I can. You don't need anyone
else. Just you and me, like you said." Belle crawled over to her twin, and took her
hand, "If you want me to be a best friend, I can. Or a mother, I can. Or a boyfriend
even, I can Isabella. I can do anything you need me to do." Belle stroked her twins
leg, "And if you don't help me, that means I won't like you either. Remember what I
do to people I don't like?" Belle pinched her twin.
Isabella yelped, and knew she couldn't make Belle angry. She knew she had to keep her
"F-fine. We'll take care of her. We'll make it look like her parents secretly abused
her, and one night they just went too far. What do you think, Belle? Hm?" Isabella
tried to smile, but the tears fell steadily. She was terrified. She twitched when her
twin leaned into her face and kissed her cheek, and wiped the tears away.
"Isabella, I can be anything you want me to be." Belle stroked her twins leg again,
and then stood, "Let's make our plans, shall we?" Belle laughed viciously, and walked
out of their bedroom door. Isabella sat in her floor, and cried and shook until there
were no tears left to cry.
"So, that's when the McCallen murder occurred? The popular, beautiful cheerleader got
murdered by her abusive parents, or so we thought?" Phillip stared at Isabella, his
fear of her growing with each story she shared.
"The McCallen murder, the Jameson sisters murder, the Mason's oldest son's murder,
and the kidnapping, and then murder, of Josh Lewison, those were all ours, all during
high school. McCallen was easy, since her parents really did abuse her and everyone
suspected. We made sure we did it on a night they got wasted and already beat her up
a little. We put on gloves and gagged her, and we beat her till she stopped
breathing. Belle laughed the whole time, and I, I didn't feel any emotion. I never
felt anything during the killings, nor did I say anything unless I was told to. It
felt easier to me, to remove myself from the situation. If I didn't, I'd have gone
crazy, like my sister." Isabella shook her head, and leaned back, taking away
Phillip's view of her chest, as she crossed her arms.
"And what about the Jameson sisters? No one could figure out how you managed to cover
that one up so easily, how you two are so easily believed and know your stories. You
two didn't have friends, how did you know everything about these kids? That's what
puzzles me, and everyone else."
Isabella laughed, and then grinned at him, "How did we know everything? We went to
fucking high school. Nothing is a secret there, is that not in your books? Didn't you
go? Weren't you thrown in lockers and kicked around, but you still knew who partied,
and who was loose, and who got abused. You still knew all of that didn't you?"
Phillip stared at her for a moment, and then after a thought, he nodded, "We don't
ever consider those things."
"And that's how we get away with murders." Isabella was cocky in the way she said
this, her grin was devious.
"Well, how'd you get away with the sisters?"
"Everyone knew they were party girls. Everyone knew they drank a lot. And no one was
shocked when they got in a 'car accident'. No one questioned it or looked into it, it
just happened. People accepted it. So, maybe we knocked them out and sent their car
sailing off that cliff, maybe, just maybe, we didn't. Who's to prove otherwise? The
bodies were too mangled for anyone to tell, weren't they?"
Phillip gulped, and moved on to the next question, "Well, what about the boys? I
thought Belle mostly went after girls, why did she target the boys, what happened
Isabella shook her head, "Look, don't judge me, my sister was controlling. But here's
Last edited: 16 January 2011