More NaMoWriMo excerpts:
“He killed her here,” she whispered.
“She didn’t like what he was doing, this place, what lived here. She begged him to move, to take the family away from this place. They argued, yelled, screamed. The floor was just vinyl stick on tile, old and brittle.” Her face had gone blank, and while her eyes were open, she didn’t look at him, she looked past him. “It started as a freak accident. This place didn’t like her. They argued. A tile came loose. She fell. Her foot hooked under the stove and twisted. Her leg broke.”
“Amy?” Jason looked at her, and she didn’t seem to be here anymore, she spoke as if she was in a trance.
“She tried to get up. He grabbed a cast-iron skillet from the stove. She’d been cooking breakfast.”
“Amy?” Jason grabbed her shoulders. “You can stop now.”
“The whole kitchen smelled of bacon. You could hear the grease sizzling.”
“You can stop. Please.”
“Some of the sizzling might have been his hand when he grabbed the handle. He was too angry to notice how hot it was.”
“Amy!” he shook her shoulders.
“Down into her face. Hit with a dull thud. Stopped her screaming.”
“Stop it!” he screamed into her face.
That seemed to snap her out of it. The blank expression regained animation, and she blinked her eyes and was actually looking at him now. He could see now that her cheeks were damp with tears. He felt her start to shake.
Then, all the lights in the kitchen winked out.