Most girls aren’t like Elis. Most girls don’t watch horror movies and feel homesick. Most girls sleep during the night. Most girls love their parents. But most girls aren’t like Elis.
Elis is fifteen. She lives down the street from Sally and up the street from Paul. Elis is a pretty girl, but her face is gaunt, and she looks sick. It’s impossible to look away from Elis. When she looks you in the eye and you look back, it’s like two amazingly, beautiful, horribly dangerous black holes are piercing into your soul. It’s as if she can see right down to the black depths of who you are. And why you are. You see Elis has a gift. Elis can see when a person is not meant to be in the world. She can tell when they have to go, they serve no purpose. Elis takes it into her own hands to fix this problem of useless persons. No one has asked her to do this, no one really knows she that does. All we notice is that those people in the background are starting to die off. One by one. They were strangers at first. Until it happened.
It started on a Monday morning in June. Elis was sleeping like she enjoys doing in the blinding light of day. Her mother came drifting into Elis’s room, she was very cautious as usual. Elis is a little frightening even to her mother. All of Elis’s life her mother and her father have tip-toed around her, in an attempt to save themselves from Elis’s sickening gift.
“Elis? her mother called softly. Wake up sweetheart….”
Elis opened her eyes. Slowly, slowly, slowly. She directed her glassy, gorgeously lifeless eyes just below her mother’s nose.

“Elis, remember your father is having some business partners over for tea dear.” Explained her mother. Elis just kept staring.

“Just, dress nice and run a comb through your hair. They’ll be here any minute.” Continued her mother timidly.

“mmm…” was Elis’s reply.

Sure enough, several minutes later, the men arrived with her father. Elis was perched on the edge of the sofa. Staring at the wall. Her limp, mousy brown hair hung like death around her peaked face. She wore a short, black skirt and tight, black tights. A sweater clinged for dear life to her narrow torso. Bustling between the kitchen and sitting room, her mother was terrified as usual. Her father walked confidently in with two other men in dark suits. Looking away from the wall, Eliz pierced the souls of the newcomers.
“hmm…” She contemplated. “Ok.”
Elis approved. The men looked confused, very confused. But her father looked relieved beyond belief. Her father gave a slight nod to her mother to say ‘all was well’. Relaxing quite a bit, her mother put on a housewife smile, a served the tea.

“It’s so good to finally meet you Mr. Flemmings.” Said her mother cheerfully.

“And you, my dear, I’ve heard so many good things!” replied Mr. Flemmings.

“And we’ve already met Mr. Goodwin, but always a pleasure!” included her mother.

“Yes it is my lovely, always a great pleasure!” agreed Mr. Goodwin as he looked up at her mother.

It was Mr. Goodwin’s glance at her mother that reminded Elis of something. She had not looked her parents in the eye in some time. In fact, had she ever gazed long enough her mother, or her father’s eyes? Had she ever verified that she had not been in the company of useless persons? These thoughts were making Elis perturbed. It was wretchedly irresponsible of her. It was her duty to make sure her mother and her father were not useless persons. Her mother sat across from Elis and Elis looked up into her mother’s eyes.

“Oh. Dear.” stated Elis.
Her mother started at the sound of Elis’s voice. Timid, chocolate brown eyes moved slowly in Elis’s direction. But Elis had already exited the room.

“Where is she? her mother whispered in fear.

“Is she a bit of a trouble maker?” inquired Mr. Goodwin

“Oh kids these days!” said Mr. Flemmings with a chuckled.

“Kids indeed Mr. Flemmings, Elis agreed in a silky voice, as she glided back into the room. “But parents aren’t all they seem to be either, some might even call them… useless.”

“No, dear…no…..” Her mother couldn’t get her petrified voice above a whisper.

“Yes, I’m afraid I have seen.” Said Elis without emotion. “And once I have seen, it is my duty to act.”
Elis approached her mother, slowly, steadily, but with eyes of steel. No one had noticed she had been clenching her hands behind her back.

“What’n God’s name is happening in here?” hollered Mr. Flemmings in rising panic.
No one responded. Elis kept walking. At last, she was close enough to her mother to thoughtfully pull a large, glistening knife from behind her back.

“It’s for the good of the world, remember.” Elis told her mother. With that, Elis reached over and did her duty. It was quick, with little fight from her mother. Elis dropped the knife, now dripping with the sparkling rubies of her mother’s life.

“Good lord….whispered Mr. Goodwin.

“I…what the...someone call the police! Screamed Mr. Flemmings. But all he did was leave, Mr. Goodwin not far behind. This left Elis, her father and her quieted mother. Elis turned towards her father, who by now had beads of sweat cascading down his temples. She pierced his soul, his being.

“Please try not to stain the rug.” Requested Elis to her father. And she took the same knife still stained and provided the world with yet another service. Elis swirled away from her father and focused on the coffee table instead.

“Hmm..” Elis thought. “The tea is getting cold.”
With that, Elis sat down on the sofa across from her mother and her father. She reveled in the fact that she had helped society and freed herself from the bonds of parentage.

“They weren’t that compentent anyway.” She concluded, taking a dainty sip of tea and reaching for a scone.
Most girls aren’t like Elis.