Some people say kids can be mean.
I agree with that, we can be very,
very mean. Not intentionally, I swear, I did not mean to kill Lenore
when I was just a kid, and I do feel sorry for her. She was younger than
me, she was six, and I was ten. Forever I will regret suggesting for us
to play in my treehouse that night. It was Halloween, and horror games
were very popular among our friends then. We were playing a game,
Lenore, me and other two kids who were Lenore's cousins, the game was
called "Horror story", and we had to tell a story and act like the
characters. My story involved a murder scene, and Lenore was my partner
on the acting game. I took things a little too serious on the murder
scene. The first thing I can remember is how scary the other two kids
got when they saw all that the blood... Well, let me tell how the scene
was: I was a vampire called Morgana, and she was my victim, I was
supposed to throw her against the wall and kill her character, then
drain all her blood. I did not expect her to bleed for real, but she
did. I accidentally throw her against the wall really strongly, much
stronger that I meant. Her head hit he wall so strongly, her skull
crushed. The blood splash was terrible, my white dress got all red with
her blood, all red with her death. The blood spilled even in my eyes.
Little Lenore was dead, her skull and neck were broken. I lifted her
body by the shoulders and her head fell limp over her chest. I saw
pieces of her shattered skull falling through her blood behind her head,
through her blond hair covered in blood. The other two kids got so
scared they started crying, but I was surprisingly cold, scared too, but
I did not cry or scream, I just told them in a low voice: "She's dead,
help me clean it up. You tell anyone what happened here, you'll be the
next ones to die in this treehouse." The two little boys, who were
younger than her, helped me carrying the body to a little room I had in
the tree house. Then, after they left, I stayed there, alone, with the
dead body. We laid her on a table I had, to draw and play on the tree
house. It was such an innocent childish little room. However, my playing
that night was a little different.
I close the door of the main room, so nobody would walk in while I
finish the work, then I got back to the dead body's room. It was a very,
very little room, there was only that little table, with the dead girl
on it now, and some big pieces of paper, pencils, scissors, crayons and a
lot of clay, all kept in a little closet. I felt dizzy, I did not know
what to do, if they found her body, I would be blamed for her death. So I
looked at some clay dolls I used to do, and I had an idea: Lenore was
so pretty, why bury her, instead of turning her into a beautiful clay
doll? She was very little yet, at the age of six, to me that was not so
easy to do, since I was only ten, still I was taller than her. So I did
it. I made myself my own human clay doll: I did not have too much clay,
so I only did it with her head, the rest of her body I left inside the
closed, which I had a key, so nobody could open it and find it. I cut
her body in pieces, to fit better in the closed, put the arms and legs
in the shelf and the body in the door under the shelves. Then I closed
it, and swallowed the key.
So, I got back to the main room of the tree house and saw her
head, immerse on her blood drooping in gallons from her neck, which I had
just cut out of her body. I had left the head on the table while I cut
everything else to keep it in the closed. Her eyes were still open,
staring at me with the most terrifying expression of fear, pain,
desperation, or maybe something else I can't even name. Her blond hair
was still covered in blood, with a terribly deadly contrast, the blood
with such vivid bright red. Her face was terribly pale, like a ghost. I
closed her eyes, took the clay, and started spreading it around the
head. Before the sun rise, I had ended the job, at about 5 am. Then I
cleaned up all the blood as much as possible for a 10 years old child to
do so by herself. It got perfect, though, nobody noticed a single blood
drop around the treehouse in the following weeks. I washed my hands
and went to sleep, but not before taking the fresh clay head to the
little room where I had hidden the body. I left it in there, so the clay
would dry before anyone could see what was beneath it. Then I closed
the door of the little room, and of the tree house too, such a great
luck all those little doors had keys! Finally, I entered in my house
slowly, so nobody would noticed I was coming in at such a late hour, and
ask me why was that. I went to bed and fell asleep.
Nobody ever asked me anything about how I could do such a perfectly human like sculpture of a human head. I was even proud to show
the head around, and I even said it was the hardest thing I've ever did.
It really was. I was not even afraid they would wonder if that was
really a dead human head, with the low profile I was able to keep, why
would they think anything like that? About the way the sculpture
"reminded" Lenore, I said it was a tribute to my little disappearing
friend. Because Lenore's disappearing, well, that was never explained. I
told the boys to tell everyone that a man had taken her away, I even
cut myself in the face with scissor to make it look like I struggled to
save her, but failed, so she was kidnapped... and people just believed
me. Why wouldn't they? I was such an innocent little girl! So, I enjoyed
showing the head of the girl I had killed, I showed to everyone, even
to cops, I even enjoyed some adrenaline, the danger of somebody finding
it out. The head was almost like a trophy to me, I felt proud, not for
killing her, but for being able to keep such a terrible secret for so
song, and even going beyond the laws. I felt superior carrying that
head, getting away with murder. But about the closet, I though the body
parts would start rotting and draw people's curiosity to the tree house,
so I burned the closet in less than three days after Lenore's death,
but I put the fire down before it burned the entire treehouse, where I
kept Lenore's head always on the table. The fire destroyed the closet completely, and left some dark stains on the wall and floor, but not much
more, it was a small closet, she was a small dead body. Even her bones
melted into ashes.
Now, it has been almost ten years since that night. However,
yesterday, something terrible happened: It was almost night when I went
back to the treehouse, to look at Lenore's head, and a neighbor called
me, so I told him to come in. I showed him the head, like I always
enjoyed showing it, my trophy. He held it, but he had a problem with
trembling hands, then he dropped the head down the stairs, down the
tree, through the door of the treehouse... When the head hit the ground,
the clay shattered, and pieces of the skull, that I had glued back
together with clay, fell apart. One of the rotten eyes fell off, colored
in blood yet. The second I saw the head hit the ground I screamed
"Lenoooore!!!" so loud, my voice hurt my own ears, and my throat ached
with taste of blood. My neighbor, who was a cop, would sure ask me
questions, and jail was waiting for me... my heart was racing, I could
not breath anymore, I did not want to breath anymore... then I jumped.
My head crushed on the ground, the last thing I saw was Lenore's skull
shattered among pieces of clay, the treehouse had pushed me to my very
last day.
Written by
Amanda Leonardi.
