The Victim by Karyna Oleksiienko

This whole thing started when I gave up everything
in the past and moved to another state. I just wanted to start over with a clean slate. My old friends, parents, all my favourite places, almost everything I loved were left behind. But here I was completely alone, and the only two things that surrounded me were my favourite job at the FBI and my new colleagues.
Her name was Martha. This girl was my partner. Since I was not local, she kindly agreed to show me some beautiful places in this state. We began to see each other pretty often after work, as it turned out we had many common interests. They were commonplace, such as: music, film genres, she even liked the same breed of dogs as I did. It was easy to work with her, she tried hard to help me to adapt to a new place. I appreciated her attention and help very much.
A month later, I decided to invite her on a date to thank her for everything that she did for me. We had a great time, we walked around the night streets almost until morning. I began to think about building a relationship with her, she didn’t mind, too. Actually, I’m extremely happy now, because I got the long-awaited place of work, a girl, new friends, everything was fine until that very day.
Once Martha forgot the phone at work, but then didn’t show up in the morning. I decided to get the phone to her house, and also check how she is. I was knocking for a long time but no one opened the door. I started worrying. I walked around the house and noticed a slightly opened window, of course, I understood that I shouldn’t have done this, but my intuition told me that something was wrong here. I climbed into the house, called her several times, but no answer again. I went around the house to make sure that she isn’t there, I was about to leave, however, then I heard some moans on the top floor. Wildly frightened for her, I quickly went upstairs but the room was closed. I heard some other moans from there. Without thinking, I kicked the door in, but my horror knew no bounds, a woman was tied to the bed.
It shocked me. I quickly went downstairs to look again at the address of the house in the hope that I had mixed up something, but no, it was her house. A few minutes later I returned back to the woman and started talking to her, trying to untie her from the bed. She was Martha’s mother, and Martha had been bulling her for a long time. I had goose bumps due to her stories, it was like a freaking horror film. Taking control of myself, I quickly hatched a further little plan of action. I didn’t know who was lying and who was really crazy, I didn’t whom I can believe. I promised this woman that I would definitely return for her, and asked her not to tell her daughter about my arrival.
It just didn’t seem right how such a cute girl can be so cruel. Returning to the department, I hacked into her mail, social networks, phone, but I didn’t find anything unusual or something strange there. I realized that I had to look in the house, that the information that could help me was there. By that time Martha came to work, explaining her delay as poor well-being. She said that she got food poisoning, and that she was at home. I understood that I needed to get into that house, I said that my neighbours had flooded my apartment, and I had nowhere to sleep. Martha suggested booking a room in the hotel, and in order not to be bored to spend this night together. This played into my hands.
Upon arrival at the hotel, I waited until Martha fell asleep, afterwards I went to her house. I didn’t understand what I needed to find, what I was doing there, and whether there was at least some explanation for all of this. Having searched almost everything, I found only a personal diary. I was surprised, there were strange drawings, unconnected words and many torn pages. I took a photo and returned back to the hotel. She was sleeping and didn’t suspect anything.
The next day I gave a request to the archive to find out something about her family, and finally the puzzle somehow started putting together in my head. Her father was killed, and when police had arrived that time, they had discovered drugs and cassettes with child porn, in which his nine-year-old daughter had played the main role. At this point, I didn’t understand whether she was crazy or simply couldn’t forgive her mother. I didn’t know how to behave, the desire to help Martha was tearing me from the inside.
In the evening I decided to surprise Martha. I blindfolded her, put her into my car. She was in anticipation of something unusual. She was happy. When we arrived, I asked her not to remove the blindfold and put on headphones. In a few minutes she was already standing by her mother’s bed. I turned off the music, took off her blindfold. I expected anything, but she remained absolutely calm. She only started crying softly, like the rain on the window. Martha hunched next to the bed, then she told me everything that happened to her in the childhood. She told about her mother’s alcoholism and drug addiction, about violence from her father. Martha also admitted that she killed him by pouring a large amount of drugs. She told that she is working at the FBI to protect children from violence. The diary which I found, she wrote after the death of her father. When I asked why she was holding her mother on the chain, she replied that her mom had started taking drugs again. She often came to her room at night and lashed out at her, accusing in her father’s death. According to Martha, this all was for her own good, but I persuaded her to untie her mother, and we took her that night to the clinic.
The next day, she asked to move in with me, because she wanted to sell the house, which is connected to all her childhood memories. I didn’t interfere, of course, I liked her, but frankly I still have serious doubts about what she told me and about her mental well-being. The next morning, I got an answer for everything when I woke up handcuffed to the bed.