Some say, she lives in an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Others say, she lives in the forest, perched on a branch hunting down. For her next victims she will find and burn. So when you hear 'London Bridges', it's your turn. Before you make a run, let me tell you the story of Rhonda "Twitch" Thompson.
It was a late cloudy night as Rhonda Thompson sat in her room with a box of matches, her dark baggy eyes shifted around the room. Lighting each match until it burned out before lighting the next stick as she hummed "London bridges falling down". Rhonda wasn’t your ordinary 16 year old, she was an outcast and had the mind of a fourth grader. Rhonda has short black hair, a purple shirt with her jeans, along with her black and grey stripped scarf and gloves. Burn marks covered her arms and one side of her neck. Her whole life, she was bullied and ignored by her family which caused severe depression. To keep herself calm from crying, she would play with her boxes of matches or watch her cartoons. It was never her fault that she was always so happy and hyper, all she wanted was a friend. She didn't even have one, her only friend was her stuffed giraffe.
She always went out of her way to give out some of her gummy bears. She even drew nice drawings for her parents and cooked them dinner, but as always none of it was noticed. Ever since she was little, she was doing whatever she could to be accepted, but they all would just walk away or push her down to the ground. Up until her 15th birthday, Rhonda started to slowly lose her mind from her depression. Also around that time, was when a voice could be heard in her head. She always tried her best to ignore it, but never could as each day it got louder. Losing her mind slowly made her hallucinate, thinking others were in the house when she was alone. Sometimes, it even made her think that she wasn't in her house but somewhere else, causing her to burn her skin to snap into reality which is the reason for her burns.
Over the past year, she basically just gave up trying to be accepted and just stayed a lone wolf. Rhonda would mostly be found either in her room in the dark, or at the park in the middle of the night. She never went outside during the day, just staying in her room playing with her matches, trying to ignore the small voice in her mind. One day, she burned alive the family bird in the oven. Ever since her birthday, Rhonda became obsessed with fire. Done with wanting friends and being loved, all she wanted now was everyone gone.
The insults echoed through her mind over and over, slowly making her twitch as she stared blankly at her ceiling. "You're suck a baby!" one echoed, "Those dark bags make you look crazy" another one chimed. The voice spoke quietly, "Burn it all." Covering her ears, Rhonda tried to drown out the voice and echoing insults like she always did. "Shut up!" she screamed. Looking up at her mirror, she stared at her refection, for a split second it looked like it had a sinister, psychotic grin. Startled, she threw her music box, shattering the mirror. Shards flew out as one cut her across the bridge of her nose. Not even caring, she just let the blood glide down her face.
As her mind finally snapped, her hands dropping to her sides as she got up from her bed and walked over to her closet with an emotionless face. She opened the doors and pulled out two sticks and headed out of her room. Once outside, her eye lightly twitched as she headed down the dark street. Reaching a house where one of her classmates lived. She stared at the house for a few minutes, clawing at the door and started singing the song she was singing in her room. Walking up to one of the windows, she managed to get it open and climbed inside quietly before lighting up the sticks. "Burn it all" the voice called in her head.
Aimlessly, she walked around the room dragging one of the sticks on the floor leaving behind a trail of fire. Setting fire to the curtains and furniture, she headed to the other rooms and repeated what she did as she started twitching more, snapping her neck to the side. Rhonda left the house and stood there as she watched it burn, a sinister smile slowly formed on her face as her eyes dilated. The blood curling screams were like music to her ears and soon it went quiet as the house was now rubble. Slowly, she made her way back down the street, quietly singing again. Standing in front of the house for a few minutes, Rhonda let out a piercing scream which woke up her parents.
Lightning flashed, giving off an eerie atmosphere as she set the house ablaze. Hearing the screams of her parents, made her smile widen as she continued to twitch and shiver. Her father slamming his fists in the second story window, shattering it and falling to his death as he now lied there on fire. Soon there was nothing left but burnt rubble and her mother’s arm sticking out from under it which was burnt to a crisp. Walking away from the now burned down house, Rhonda twirled her sticks as hummed her song and vanished into the night, giggling happily with the thunder booming in the distance. Sometimes, she can be seen in the trees, perched on a branched with her sticks in her pocket, awaiting her next victims to follow home.