"Loser!" "Idiot!" "Fat!" "Ugly!" "Kill yourself!"
Shylee has heard it all. Ever since her mother has died her life hasn't been the same. Her friends moved to different places, and her dad has become a raging alcoholic and drug addict. Her older sister has started doing cigarettes and pot, and her younger brother has become abusive, just like her dad. Shylee had to walk home from school everyday. But walking home came with a price...
"Hey! Hey Shylee!" The local bully was here, right on time.
"Please, leave me alone." Shylee pleaded. She pleads everyday, but they never have mercy.
"No!" Said Marcel, and he pushed Shylee to the ground. All of Shylee's school stuff fell out and she tried to gather it all up. But Marcel stopped her by stomping on her hands and back. Shylee tried not to scream from the pain.
"It's my stuff now!" Marcel said, and he picked up everything she had - books, pencils, markers, etc.
Shylee stayed on the ground, she knew she was about to get a beating. And sure enough she did. Marcel started kicking her and punching her until she started to cry.
"I knew I could break you," Marcel said. "Not so tough, huh?" Marcel walked away with all of Shylee's stuff.
When Shylee arrived home after limping for five blocks, she saw her father just sitting there drinking a beer.
"Hey dad." Shylee could barley speak, for Marcel damaged her windpipe a little. "What?" Her dad said, with his normal drunken stutter.
"Just saying hi." Shylee said. Big mistake. Her saying that just made her father angry.
"You back talking me?" He asked.
"No." Shylee was suddenly scared, she really had to watch what she said around her father.
"Don't use that tone with me you brat! I will hurt you! Beat you into a bloody pulp!" Her father threw down the beer bottle, it breaking onto the hard wooden floor. He started to undo his belt.
"Come here! Now!" He was screaming and God knew why. Shylee was frightened by the force in his voice, and started to cry.
"Stop!" Her father screamed and went over to Shylee. He knocked her to the ground, and brought the belt down onto her back.
Shylee let out a scream of pain.
"Shut up!" Her father yelled, and whipped her on the back some more. Then he moved onto her face, whipping her against the face causing it to swell. After a few minutes he stopped, dropped the belt, and went to the fridge to get a bottle of liquor.
Shylee ran to her room before her dad gets mad again, and shut the door slowly and quietly. She shared a room with her sister, Melody, so the smell of cigarettes and pot filled her nose.
"Hey dork. What's up?" Melody asked.
"I just got a beating." Shylee said.
"Boo-hoo." Melody said, texting someone on her phone.
Shylee laid on her bed, thinking about what life would be like if her mom was still around.
"Why did mom have to die?" Shylee asked her sister.
"I don't know. Can we not talk about it?" It was a difficult subject for Shylee and her family to discuss, but she wanted to know why good people have to die. Life isn't fair like that, Shylee thought.
The next day was a lot better for Shylee. It was a Saturday, so all she had to do was be in her room and leave only if it was absolutely necessary.
She got up early enough to take a shower, but her brother Michael beat her there.
"Ha, beat you." Michael said.
"Whatever." Shylee said, and went back to her room. Melody was in there talking to her boyfriend. Melody was talking way to loud, and Shylee knew it, but she didn't say anything. Eventually their father came in there, red faced with anger.
"You! Shut the hell up!" He had his belt in his hand ready to blow. But he wasn't pointing at Melody, he was pointed at Shylee. He grabbed Shylee's wrist and began beating her arm, causing the sound to echo is the room. Melody just sat there watching him beat the hell out of Shylee.
"It wasn't me!" Shylee cried out, but her father wasn't listening he just kept beating her until she began crying loud. He stopped, and left the room.
Shylee noticed Melody looking at her. "What?" Shylee said. "You should feel horrible."
"Yeah? Well, I don't." Melody said, and continued to talk on the phone. Shylee couldn't take it. She ran out of the room and into the kitchen where her dad, luckily, wasn't there.
Shylee grabbed a knife and went outside into the garage. She cuts herself all the time, but this time she made a fatal mistake. Shylee cut too deep into her wrist, causing her veins to leak out a load of blood. She sat on the ground, knowing there is no way to survive this. She has thought of death before, but she didn't have the nerve to do it. Shylee didn't even feel pain, but relaxation. Is this what her mother felt when she died of cancer? Shylee hoped so, she doesn't want her mom to feel pain. Shylee was fully relaxed, and her eyes got heavier and heavier. Warm blood leaked all over the floor, and Shylee died smiling knowing that she would finally be at peace.
Nobody threw a funeral for the death of Shylee Anderson. Nobody would have even came if there was one.
Because of all the pain that Shylee felt alive, she came back powerful and stronger than she was before. "They must feel my pain." Shylee said as she awoke. She noticed that she has been dead for months, she died in March, and now it's June. Summer time.
"Bullies must die." Shylee said. She got up, she was against a tree, and walked into her house. It was dark outside, so she knew her family would be asleep. "Who do I kill first?" Shylee asked herself. "Dad!" She said, a little louder than anticipated. She crept slowly to her fathers room, clutching a knife in her hand. Her dad was still awake, sipping on a bottle of whiskey, getting wasted as normal.
"You're a disappoint." Shylee muttered to herself. She noticed something odd about her father... that he was crying. She followed his gaze to the pictures on the shelf of her, him and Shylee's mom and siblings all together. He kissed all the pictures one by one, until he came up upon the one with him and Shylee. He cried harder.
"So he does care?" Shylee said to herself. "Too little, too late!" She flung the door wide open, causing her dad to turn around dropping the picture of him and Shylee.
"You're just a bully!" Shylee screamed, and jumped on her dad cutting open his throat and watching all the blood pour over. Shylee picked up the picture that was now covered in her fathers blood. She remembered that day, when she was happy and with her father a good guy and her mother alive.
She felt someone staring at her, so she turned around and saw Michael standing there, frozen in shock and terror.
Shylee smiled. "You're just a bully, too." She said, and threw the knife at her brother and it impaled his heart instantly killing him. Shylee smiled and went over to her brother to receive the knife. She tugged the sharp, long blade out of his chest and went to her old room. Shylee opened the door and found her sister smoking pot right there on her bed. Melody quickly looked up at Shylee and jumped up out of bed.
"Oh my God!" Melody said.
Shylee smiled, and lunged herself right at Melody, knocking the pipe full of pot right out of her hands and catching Melody's bed on fire. "Damn it!" Melody yelled. Shylee was on top of Melody now, and sliced her neck open. Quick and clean.
Melody's blood was pouring all over the floor, and Shylee stood over her. "You're. Just. A. Bully!" Shylee shouted, and stomped her foot on Melody's neck, killing her instantly.
Shylee remembered the fire and escaped through the hallway and out the front door.
She ran quick into the night, her black hoodie and dark jeans blending with the night sky.
Shylee ran all the way to Marcel's house, and broke through his bedroom window. Marcel awoke with a start, a looked at Shylee.
"Remember me, Marcel?" Shylee asked, smiling.
"S-Shylee?" Marcel stuttered.
"Correct. You know how you bullied and beat me? Well, it's my turn now!" Shylee jumped on Marcel's bed and slashed through his stomach. Shylee showed no mercy to him, and she stabbed him sixteen more times until Marcel's parents came through the door.
Marcel's dad had a gun, and he pointed directly at her. Shylee turned around, smiling, and said "What? He was a bully, he got what he deserved." As Marcel's dad shot the gun, Shylee jumped and escaped through the window.
Cops Note: Shylee Denae Anderson has been found guilty for many deaths. We don't know how this can be, for she died from suicide. Blood loss. We call her an Entity. We interviewed the parents of the boy that the Entity brutally murdered.
"She said he deserved this!" The mother explains. "Those....eyes! They just sucked you into a endless fear! They are blue and so beautiful, but they look at you like - like you're a meal! That you're something to eat! She has a bruise on her left eye, and a scar under her right eye. Brown hair. She KILLED my son! Why? He didn't do anything!"
The mother then went into a tantrum and began screaming and yelling. We had to have security come and take her out.
From there and on we have had many others tell us about those eyes, and how bright and blue they were. She is now known as the killer Blue Eyes.
Written by I'm Hoodie