DEAR DIARY - PAGE 5 - THE ▒░▓▒░▒ MAN
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The lake by their house had frozen over now.
Half an hour and some. That’s how long it took Thea to break into the nearly 6 inch deep ice. She only had the moonlight to guide her so it took longer than expected. Satisfied with her work, she dropped to a sitting position beside her sister.
“This takes me back a few.” Massaging her wrist, she spoke with a quiet almost nostalgic tone. “Who would’ve thought it’d take this long, hmm?”
The body laying beside her held no comment.
Thea sighed and got to her knees, pulling the corpse by the head to the opening she made. In a gentle, practiced motion, she guided the head into the ice cold water. No bubbles rose. The black water swallowed Summer’s head down to the last vertebrae on her neck.
Then came the shoulders.
As rigor mortis had set in, it was quite hard angling those joints inwardly to allow a smooth absorption. Thea had to rise again, using the shovel to chip a bit more off the ice, widening the frosted pelvis. Her breathing was a bit labored as she fell back on her knees to guide the heavy corpse deeperS into the lake.
It was barely wide enough but the broadest part of the cadaver finally went through into the thirsty gap. Thick black water pulsed upwards, soaking Thea’s clothes, spreading across the white delivery surface. With a quiet plop!, her sister’s body disappeared into the abyss, sinking down with the weight of death and rocks. Back to the darkness. Back to where it belonged.
Back into the womb.
The novice midwife leaned forward, so low the cold water lightly brushed her forehead. There was a weightlessness about her shoulders. One that came when an 11 year long labour had finally come to an end. With a sigh, she breathed into the quickly stilling water, a string of Latin words.
Ex pulvere es et pulvis revertetur.
The front porch was already covered with a layer of snow by the time she returned. It seemed at some point during the burial, it had started snowing. It was only when she sat by the porch stairs did she notice how cold her puffs of breath were. It was so cold it made her lips tint a dark shade of blue.
It’d been roughly three days and nights with no food or water.
It was only a matter of time. All she had to do was sit and wait. Wait till her organs give out from the lack of food and she dies of dehydration and starvation. Or wait till the snow mummifies her and erodes her bones, dying of pneumonia. Either way, the moment was here. The moment she took her last breath. This blessing seemed to be so far away from her, all these years. But it was finally here.
She won.
A silhouette of a younger Theresa in the kitchen, holding a knife appeared in Thea’s vision. With great effort, she raised her lips to smile at the lost child.
The action caused the silhouette to glance at her, slightly startled. Dropping the knife, she extended her tiny hand towards her.
Covered in a think blanket of snow and a sunken stomach, Thea raised her arm one last time.
They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you truly die.
I guess the final trip down memory lane is here.
Alright then.
12 YEARS AGO
“Did you hear about Miss Evangel’s son?”
11 year old Theresa looked up from her Basic Tech workbook to frown at her friend, Jessica who just entered class holding an equally frowning expression.
It was breaktime. The class was empty, the windows open, allowing streams of sunlight to bath the colorful walls that held multiple study posters like the times-table, period table and so on. Everyone else was out playing in the field but she had to complete homework. She was a bit behind. The plan was to present it to their class teacher, Miss Evangel before the end of the day but she never came in.
“What? What happened to him? Is he not in Faller town visiting?”
“Mm. But they say the plague has reached West regions. He caught it. Dead as a brick. What I heard the teachers whisper.”
Theresa’s brows scrunched up. “Dead?”
“Yes. Like gone.”
“I- I know what that means.” Her hand tightened over her pen. “Well not completely- when you say gone, where exactly? Where can he go after he dies?”
Jessica blinked, not exactly thinking that far. “I’m not sure. But he isn’t here anymore. Ever. Anyways that’s why Miss Evangel isn’t coming back.”
“Why?”
“Her son is dead.” Jessica shot her a disapproving look. “It’s a grieving time. When someone grieves they have to go away for a while. That’s what my Ma says.”
“Is Miss Evangel… sad?”
“Of course. Really really sad. No more teaching probably.”
A ball of discomfort formed in Theresa’s stomach. “But she’s my favorite...”
“That’s just life, T. You just have to accept it.” Noticing her friend’s dampened mood, she took Theresa’s arm and quickly pulled her up. “Pa says so all the time. Don’t worry. The plague will stop soon. Come on. Let’s play.”
Theresa allowed herself to be dragged to the playground. Allowed herself to catch the ball thrown to her.
But the knots within kept forming.
She’s my favourite teacher.
The plague didn’t stop.
For the next 5 months, Theresa continued to hear news of people in farther towns ‘dropping dead like flies’. She later heard the virus was the type to eat slowly. So it was never a quick death. It was like a cold that kept getting worse. That was Alma’s explanation.
The school’s headmaster also explained to the students during assembly. That death was simply a bridge. That our neighboring town residents are just in a better place. And we can only pray for the ones left in those towns. As the virus was transmitted through touch, the affected settlements were on lockdown. No one could go in or out. A quarantine. He said it was a good thing. It meant they in Summerside had nothing to be worried about.
Theresa couldn’t help but frown during that assembly. Wasn’t that just a prison? Like the ones they took the burglars to? Never to come out. How can their home turn to a prison? How is that a good thing?
Nothing was getting better. Theresa’s aunt, San was also in one of the quarantined towns. The family called her frequently. She said it was alright. That the radios were making a whole big deal. Aunt San promised to visit by winter with new chocolates.
She never came.
What did was a phone call from her husband. 10 seconds into that call, her Ma screamed. It was so loud, her wail. It even woke Ether from her sleep. The child’s cries and her mother’s sobs, Theresa couldn’t hear anything else. The noise remained long after the house returned to silence.
Her Ma didn’t talk much in the days after that. She always wore white. Or black sometimes. And her eyes were so red. Too red. Didn’t look possible. It didn’t look like she was eating either.
Emmanuel said Ma’s grieving cause Aunt San is gone. But isn’t Aunt in a better place?, Theresa thought at that moment. There was no need to be so sad.
She didn’t like how sad her Ma was. It made her sad. And it made the ball in her stomach grow spikes that hurt everytime she breathed too loudly. For this reason, she too grew quiet with time.
It was so quiet all around her. Even when it wasn’t. Anytime the phone rang at home, she find herself stiffening. Every time a call was picked, her shoulders braced for a scream.
At school, Jessica also started looking like Ma. She said her brother had to leave town cause of work. But they hadn’t heard from him in days. The worry on her face made her look older than she should.
One day, Jessica broke down and cried on Theresa’s shoulder. She said her brother was dead. There was an accident on his way back. That’s what she said. So she cried. And cried. And cried. All over Theresa’s uniform were tears and snot from her best friend. The Jessica she knew always had a bright smile. But she was so sad today. And she couldn’t do anything about it. Even when she gave her her lunch, Jessica vomited everything.
Was grief a sickness too?
A slow one like that virus. That slowly sucks your happiness. Eats everything that made you you. Then it leaves you empty. Like a shell.
Does grief make empty men?
I don’t want to catch this illness.
I don’t want to become an empty man.
Jessica stopped coming to school after her breakdown. The seat beside Theresa felt empty and cold. Apparently without her brother’s support, Jessica’s family has to quickly sell their things and move out to a cheaper settlement ahead of time.
As time passed, Theresa grew very sensitive to sounds. In school, at home, on the street, in her head. Every little sound bothered her. She kept flinching at them.
Excited shouts sounded like screams of terror, laughter sounded like sobbing, clapping sounded like thunder, the ring of the school bell sounded like a funeral tolling sound.
Her quickly eroding mind housed thoughts she could not suspend.
What was that sound? Did something happen again? Did I walk the dog today? Did someone die? Who is grieving this time? My friend or my brother or his friend? Which teacher is leaving? What uncle is about to call? What was I just thinking? Who is leaving? Did I see Summer today? She looked sick. Is she grieving? What happened to Miss Evangel? She never came back? My friend or my brother or his friend? Who is grieving this time? What was I just thinking? Is Pa going on another business trip soon? I need to stop him. Who walked the dog? Who is grieving this time? She never came back? Who never came back? Jessica! Jessica, are you alive? Did you make another friend sick? That sound what happened now? My friend or my brother or his friend? Did something happen again? What uncle is about to call? Did I see Ether today? I need to stop him. Who walked the dog? What was I just thinking? Is she grieving? Wait who is she? Whose friend did you make sick this time? Who is leaving? My friend or my brother or his friend? I need to stop him. Jessica. Have you come back? Why didn’t you tell me? Did I lose the dog? My friend or my brother or his friend? What was I just thinking? Why didn’t you tell me? Chrissy. Chrissy are you grieving? Who exactly? Your friend, his brother or his friend?
The anxiety sprouted lean and spindly roots that dug deeper and deeper into her subconscious.
But her daily life continued without any major events. Her family remained present and loving. Emmanuel always bought her sweets. Summer took her to the market on Friday evenings so she could feed the pigeons. Christina taught her how to sing and Alma bought her new books to read so she could expand her vocabulary and do better in school.
And Ma. Ma was all better. She didn’t care that Theresa had already grown 11 years. Whenever Theresa asked for help in her assignments, she’d pull her up to sit on her lap while they worked together solving it. Pa taught her how to fish every Saturday, right before he visited Church with Summer and their dog, Derry.
‘The lake was so kind.’ He’d say this while he prepared the rods. ‘You could tell it all your deepest secrets and the waves would take it all away, never telling a soul’.
She loved her family so much. Especially Ether who clung to her tightly whenever she attempted walking. She loved them all so much.
But look. Look at Jessica. Jessica loved her brother too, didn’t she? And he still died. And she was so sad. She didn’t look like Jessica. She looked like a ghost. She looked scary. Something had come and eaten her friend and thrown up a fake. That was not her Jessica.
That was what the grief illness did. It ate and ate until you lost yourself, until you were empty, until you were nobody, until you completely disappeared.
Everyday, Theresa woke up fearing for the worst.
At night, she’d check Summer’s chest to make sure it was rising and falling. Eventually, it wasn’t enough. She started sneaking out, floating along the corridors, peeking into everyone’s room to make sure that they were still there, safe and sound.
The floor boards would queitly creak under her sock covered feet. It sounded so loud but no one ever caught her.
It didn’t feel enough. Just looking inside. So she started appearing by their bed side. Watching. That rise and fall of Ether’s chest. That steady snore from her parents. That incoherent murmur from the twins during their shared dreams. That habitual roll of Manuel’s body to find a colder spot in bed. She’d check them off like a list every night.
It wasn’t enough.
The roots in her brain grew thicker and healthier, feeding on her paranoia.
The ritual became a two time thing. Then three. Then four. Atleast four times at night, she’d make sure everyone was alive. Again again and again.
Still not enough.
She had to stay up. What if they died while she was sleeping? What if one was choking in their sleep and she wasn’t there to call for help?
She would fall asleep then her mind would scream.
Wake up.
She’d fall.
Wake up.
And fall.
Wake up!
And fall.
At some point, Theresa began sleeping with her eyes open.
Her heart pounded every moment she was awake. Especially at night when she couldn’t easily access everyone. When she couldn’t hear any movement In the house so it was impossible to know if there was any living person aside her there. When she couldn’t just up and go to the next class during lunch to make sure her friends hadn’t swallowed a bone and died.
She started thinking. Of how she’d feel when the time finally came. Because it was coming. Eventually. She couldn’t escape it. Maybe Pa. Or Emmanuel. Ether even. They said babies fall sick easily. Same as dogs. Derry could easily catch a disease. Or maybe he’d fall from a tall building when no one was watching. A clock was ticking. Loudly. How could she prepare? How would she manage it? Would she ever be able to smile again when Summer was in the ground?
It’s been a full year since Jessica moved away, Theresa awoke with heavy eye bags. Her cheeks were just as sunken. Too dark. Hey eyes. There were too many shadows hidden behind those stagnant eyes.
I want to die.
She stared down at her pillow emptily.
I want to die.
Giant drops of tears blotched the cotton pillow case.
I need to die before they do.
Her fingernails dug into the bed foam.
I don’t want to grieve.
A shudder raked through her 12 year old body.
I need to die now.
She scrambled to her closet to retrieve her shoelace. After shutting herself in the bathroom, she tied it around her neck and and pulled both ends. Hard. The veins on her face pulsed brightly as the material twisted into her skin, nearly crushing her windpipe.
The lack of oxygen combined with the pain made her eyes roll back. Gasping loudly, she dropped her hands quickly.
Her knees dropped to the cold times. She couldn’t stop coughing and scratching at her throat as more air spilled in. It was so painful. It was too painful. Too much to see through.
“Thessy are you done? Ma wants to drive us to school now.” Summer called from the other side.
Not bothering to wait for her response, she left the room again.
Theresa coughed one more time before calling out weakly. “Coming.”
The next day, she tried the shoelace again.
Just as before, she stopped right when it got too much.
So she tried again the next day.
And the next.
And the next.
And again. And again. And again.
Coward.
One day she looked at herself in the mirror. Looked at the desperation in her tears. The fear in her trembling lips. The frustration on her face. Her neck had a round line that was barely noticeable because of her dark skin. She also kept her hair down since she started her attempts last month.
Coward.
‘Attempts’. That’s all they’d ever be.
Coward
Scaredy cat
Attempt #51
Theresa stared down at the shoelace on the floor. Stupid. She was so stupid. And weak. And scared. One job. She had one measly job.
The sound of her flesh getting hit bounced off the bathroom walls like the rebound of drum.
Stupid.
Her palm struck her face again.
Dumb.
Another slap.
Weak.
Another.
Crybaby.
Another.
Ungrateful.
Another.
Freak.
Another.
Wimp
Another
Drama queen.
Another.
Coward.
The final slap was so harsh her neck snapped to the left. The entire side of her face was swollen and ugly. As ugly at the feelings brewing beneath she could not dear utter. She couldn’t sleep. Her tastebuds didn’t work anymore. She always felt like crying. But her smile was the brightest of her siblings. She couldn’t help it. It was like a string was attached. She jumped when she was supposed to be excited. Laughed when Pa told a funny joke. Ate her meals clean off the plate and thanked Ma with a praise whenever she coooked.
It was easy doing that. It helped her not think. Thinking hurt her head. Thinking made her feel like a coward. Thinking made her feel different.
Made her feel like those people
Like the ones they put in those new type of hospitals.
But she wasn’t like them.
She was normal.
Nothing was wrong with her.
But then, the next day, someone asked her a question.
“Hey, are you okay?”
It was a Saturday. Summer didn’t go out for her usual church visits cause she had a cold- she always had a cold these days- and everyone else had some kind of engagement so they were alone. Just Theresa and her elder sister.
Her sister was frowning at the side of her face- the part that had been exposed cause she forgot to wear her braids down.
“Why are you not saying anything?” Summer sat by the living room couch, gazing at the frozen Theresa by the staircase in worry. “I didn’t see you when you came back to school yesterday. You always sleep early these days. Are you okay? Why is your face like that?”
Theresa felt a weight lodge in her throat. For some reason, she couldn’t push her lips up like she always did. Couldn’t jump even an inch higher than ground. The instrument used to create that laughing sound was suddenly under maintenance.
Instead, her lips parted, a confession at the tip of her tongue that was as heavy as lead.
“I-”
“These heretics. They’re popping up more and more these days. What do you think, Matthew? Is it a trend or virus. This ‘mental illness’ of thing?”
“Dare I say John, it’s just another plague sent by God to wipe out the demons. I hear the sickness of the brain happens only to those foreigners. Punishment for their idol worship. This is why it’s important to keep Summerside away from outsiders. No abnormals here”
“Haha this soil is personally blessed by God. All these those faulty ones should be stayed up where they can’t harm anyone. Can you imagine, I hear the blueeyed serial killer down the mercuric got away with the crimes by pleading insanity. What is the world coming to?”
“It’s the end times i tell you.”
The radio by the living room centertable continued broadcasting the local news channel hosts. Theresa’s head seemed to be pushed under water.
“Tee? Are you listening to me?“
“I’m fine.” She slowly undid her hair tie. “I just fell down on the way back.”
Summer was already looking down at her newly painted nails, distracted. “Mm. Okay. Go wash the dishes so Ma won’t throw a fit when she comes back. Don’t tell her I made you do it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Stupid.
Theresa stood atop a stool, wearing plastic gloves a bit too big for her hands as she washed the plates from the night before. The soapy water went up to her arms, bubbles clinging to the skin like they wished to drag her down the drain.
One wrong word and I would’ve been shipped away.
The tremors in her hands made the plates slip away every few washes. Her fingers couldn’t stay steady. The fear made even her bones vibrate at an alarming frequency. At this moment, she wished this skin of hers that was as thick and patchy as clay could melting under this hot water. Melt and slide into the 5 holes at the center of the sink.
They would torture me and laugh at me and tie me up.
It wouldn’t go down easily no. Because of what she was made of. Sludge, meat and vomit. Someone would need to use a plunger and push to make sure the disgusting things that were her constituents would never bubble back up.
One word and I would be locked away in the dark and used for tests.
The sponge roughly scrubbed across the edge of the knife they had used to cut the meat of last dinner. Slim fingers slid along of the blunt part of that blade.
They’re going to take me away.
Theresa’s eyes were blown out, fantasizing, wishing, imagining.
Praying.
I have to go now or they’ll catch me!
It wasn’t a shoelace this time. As long as she pushed in hard enough, it would be over in a few seconds. It won’t hurt like the extended periods of the shoelaces.
In the big kitchen, there was a small figure barely 5 feet clad in her black sleeping dress. In her palms was a knife larger than her neck. The tip of this blade glinted under the setting sunlight that fell from the window above. This pointy metal pressed against the girl’s jugular.
A single drop of blood rolled down to settle between her clavicles.
It was the first time she bled.
This wetness along her throat. It seemed to wash away all the fear. All the cowardice. All the hesitation. There was a power than came with wielding the blade. Wielding what could actually finish the job. Wielding what finally made everything real.
But the blade didn’t plunge in. She had picked this blade as a child and the act of cutting herself had brought a sort of serenity. At this moment, she appeared to have aged exponentially. Her eyes carried years worth of understanding like she just unlocked the secrets to the universe.
Like a sacred knowledge had been bestowed upon her.
She loved her family very much. As they loved her. No other family had she ever seen that were as loving and as perfect as theirs. If she died, who would Summer take for shopping? What excuse would Emmanuel have to get sweets while he plays the piano? Who would Christina sing her her new songs to? There would be no one to read Al’s books with. Pa would stop fishing since he never had the time to anyways. Ether…Ether won’t have anyone to cradle her in the middle of the night. Nobody would be wondering around at that time, making sure they were all alive afterall.
She couldn’t die now.
They would grieve. And grieve. And grieve. And it would eat them. And it would spit them out. And they would grieve some more. And maybe. Maybe they would get better eventually. Just like Ma did after Aunt San. But they will still continue with life. And something bad would happen again. Someone will get kidnapped, tortured, heartbroken, ill. There was always something lurking, waiting to make them feel worse all over again. They will get sick. They will fail their exams. They will get rejected from the music college they want to go to. They will get bullied. They will lose and they will grieve that loss. Be it thing and human. They will be blackmailed. They will be disgraced. They will be attacked. They will suffer pointlessly. Again and again and again. In this unending cycle of misery that was life.
She loved her family so much.
As they loved her.
I need to end the cycle.
The knife was pulled away, raised,then pushed forward again. The 12 year old woman crouched into herself, like a shell found by the riverside. She leaned over the sink as the top half of the knife disappeared into her mouth.
The sharp edge of the cold metal pressed down the thick red muscle of her tongue. At the burst of pain, her eyes widened and spilled reflexive tears. Her knees buckled, barely keeping her on the stool. The drops of blood fell faster, staining the white unwashed plates in the sink, mixing with the soapy water. The bad blood frothed in her mouth making her slightly choke on the metal and iron taste numbing her taste buds.
The tears didn’t stop. They made her face so wet and sticky. Made her jaw so ugly as it mixed with the settling blood. But the shadows in her eyes, for this brief moment, they were gone. What replaced them was an obsessive light that rivaled the sun.
She knew what to do.
Know how to keep her and her family safe.
A perfect plan.
An epiphany that was the loudest thought in her scattered mind.
We just need to die together.
After that day, Theresa’s thoughts started to grow incoherent. They came in too fast or too slow or too jumbled to process in time. She had no choice but to get a new exercise book and start writing in it.
The night after she tested her poison on Derry, her father caught her in her nightly checkups. He wasn’t a light sleeper. Perhaps he was up thinking about the late dog.
“Hey, baby.” Joseph had watched his daughter stare down at him unblinkingly for a full minute before he finally broke the silence. His brow knitted in confusion. Did Theresa ever sleepwalk? “Are you okay?” He tried his best not to startle her, lowering his voice to a light whisper. “Did you have a nightmare?”
The girl opened her mouth and made a strangled noise. Like she was choking on words written in thick scattered ink. But the ink was parasitic and latched hungrily on her tender vocal cords so she could push the words out.
Sucking in a breath, Theresa ran out of her parents room, back to her own room. After that night, she didn’t go on her nightly rituals anymore. Instead, Joseph came to visit his daughter every night before he went to bed. Her eyes stayed wide open but she didn’t seem to be awake. This caused him great distress but he’d been so busy that period as it was coming closer and closer to the holidays.
He planned to take her to the doctor by New Years’.
Every night, Theresa watched her father close the door with a frown on his face.
Every night, her chest would tighten and pound at a punishing rhythm.
She was making Pa worried.
She was making Pa sick.
She was going to heal them all next week.
It failed.
Her attempt failed.
Pa and Summer were looking at her like she was the devil.
They were going to take her to the mad house.
THUD
THUD
THUD
A white line shot through her senses at every contact with the wall. Again and again and again until it striked through each word, pushed sentences into each other and flipped over paragraphs. This overload of white lines came with a certain frequency. It was so loud yet somehow dim. Like a static noise. It made her surroundings blur and her ear drums itchy. Her mind had become a radio and it switched to a clear station at random periods. The channel hopping sometimes took seconds, other times minutes, or hours or days.
Or months.
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Channel #1
She hates me. Summer hates me. She keeps saying those mean words. Hate. She has hate in her heart. Stop talking. Stop. Stop. I don’t want to hear it. Get out. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. I want to die. Just let me die already. Why did you have to save me? Why am I in this hospital? Stop saying that! STOP IT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT. She hates me. IF YOU JUST KEPT THE FOOD DOWN WE WON’T BE HERE. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know! I don’t know! Stop asking me! She has hate in her heart. Pa is gone. We got rid of him why are you asking me where he went??! Let me die too. Are you sick? Did I make you sick?! Is this a new grief side effect? Forgetting? I made you sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. You must feel so dirty. You’ve gone mad with denial. I want to die. I made Pa sick too. Now you’re sick. I failed. Stop. I don’t want to hear it. IT’S NOT MY FAULT STOP SAYING THAT LEAVE ME ALONE. Sick. Sick. Sick. I can’t die anymore. I don’t want to hear it. Stop stop asking me!. Look what you’ve done. When do I leave? GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. I can’t die till you’re gone.
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Channel #45
Ma I miss you. What do they know? Ma I’m scared. Ahck! Ack! Ma I’m scared. It’s scary at night. I want to cry. It tastes weird. Are they hiding you from me? I hate the taste. My voice. What happened to my voice?. It hurts to speak. What do they know? They want to do something. The wound never heals. Ma I’m scared. STOP STOP STOP IT HURTS. I keep hearing Ether’s cries at night but nobody is there. Their plotting against me. Who’s there? Harder. Did you hear that? The doctors. I don’t like swallowing blood. They know something. Ma can you hear me? Did you say something? Harder! Do they know something? What do they know? Can they see you? Are they hiding you from me? Ma I want to see you. When can I see you? Why won’t you let me see you? I need to see you. How do I see you? Ahck! Ack! It’s too painful. I can’t stop. STOP IT PLEASE. I can’t speak so I can only bite my tongue. STOP STOP STOP IT HURTS. I don’t like swallowing blood. The wound never heals .I can’t eat cause it hurts. IT HURTS. I need to bite harder. HARDER! If I bite off my tongue I can die. STOP IT PLEASE!
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Channel #385
No no no don’t think. Shoes. Don’t think about it. PLEASE. When can I finally die? Shoes. I’m sick of this orphanage. Pull pull pull. Soma changed our names. I need to do it. She’s too guarded. WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? Grief ate and spat out a sludge. Stop pulling. Give me back my sister. I need to do it. Don’t think about it. She keeps pretending she loves me. Where is it? I can’t kill her. I need to do it. Quickly. I need to do it now! When can I finally die? Where is my shoelace? WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT MY SHOELACE. No don’t think. Stop thinking. I need to die. Ack I can’t breath. It’s back on my neck. I can’t breath. No no don’t think don’t breathe- breathe! I need to kill her. WHERE IS MY SHOELACE? Give me back my sister. PULL PULL PULL. When can I finally die? Kill her kill her kill her. Stop pulling the lace! CAN’T BREATHE-
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Channel #400
Wait wait! Don’t think dont pull wait I don’t want to faint again I want to WAIT-
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Channel #795
I cant even come home for the holidays. Why are you doing this to me? How can I kill you? I love you. How could you do this to me? I miss you. I’m stuck. It’s lonely here. I’m stuck because of you. I’m so miserable. Why won’t you let me save you? I did it all for us. You’re so ungrateful. I love you. You won’t even let me see you. You hate me? You hate me? EVERYTHING I DID WAS FOR YOU I SHOULD’VE DIED AND LEFT YOU BEHIND BUT I DIDN’T BECAUSE I LOVED YOU I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR ABANDONING ME. I’M GOING TO KILL YOU. I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL YOU. Soma? Soma? Where are you? I miss you. Why won’t you let me see you? Why won’t you let me save you? You need me to save you.
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Channel #1000
What? I’m going to be an aunt? No- no she’s going to be a mother? No. This is bad. I have to- I have to get there as soon as I can. I have to save her. Save her before she gets sad. Families make you go sad.
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Channel #1005
You look so much like Pa. So scared. So wary. You never did change did you? I was so happy to see you but you’re looking at me like you wish I’d disappear. You’re looking at me like I’m the worst thing that happened to you. You’re looking at me like you want to kill me.
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Channel #1007
No. Not yet. Don’t do it yet. I’ve brought her back here. Do I kill her now? STOP STOP HITTING THE WALL IT HURTS IT HURTS STOP IT. I need to make her as scattered as possible. Hold. Hold. Be patient or you’ll fuck it up again. Need her to think she saved us. That way she’ll eat the poison happily without any thoughts. And die as she was destined to. I need to complete this once and for all. No more mistakes. STOP HITTING THE WALL YOU’RE GOING TO WAKE HER UP IT HURTS MY HEAD HURTS. STOP IT!
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Channel #1011
The police is coming? I have to change plans.
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Channel #0
That’s them. No. Don’t do that. Police. Pick it up. That’s the police. Use that one. Misdirect them. To another place. Hmm this one keeps pushing. Isn’t listening to me. Up up up. Another variable. Like that night. Don’t . But they’re going to ruin my plans. Again. PICK UP THE STONE PICK IT UP DO IT DO IT DO IT.
#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%*%$@&#%*$@#%*&@#%#%*@#%&$@*#%$&@#*%$@&#
“Oh.”
Theresa was breathing heavily. Her vision of red cleared to reveal the dead officers. Both of their heads were bashed into the ground so violently their brains were splatted across the pavement of the road leading up to their family house.
She pressed a bloody hand against her head and blinked slowly.
Clear.
It was so clear.
Her radiohead.
No static. No repetitive thoughts. No loud commands.
It was so fucking quiet.
A shudder was let out of her stuffy chest as she looked around the desolate estate.
No obstruction to her breathing either.
“Oh.” Theresa laughed. It was her first genuine laugh in a decade. “So that’s how it is.”
Hmm.
The cold permeated Thea’s bones. She seemed to be in a horizontal position now. Her vision was spotting.
That was a fast one.
The young Theresa was sitting beside her. Playing with her frosted hair with childlike excitement. She gazed down at her and mouthed: ‘Thank you’
Thea was barely breathing at this point but she tried to blink back: ‘You’re welcome’
It is finished.
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Warm.
It was warm.
That was the first thing that came to mind when Theresa woke up. If she hadn’t smelt the common Summerside firewood, she would’ve thought she was in the afterlife. Her eyes fluttered open to receive visuals of the interior of a wooden cabin.
A mouth watering scent of turkey wafted over her. She shifted and noticed her body was covered by a thick blanket. When she coughed, she found neither her tongue nor throat was dry.
An old woman with greying hair had been watching her attentively. When Theresa sat up, she let out a sigh of relief.
“You’re finally awake.”
Omg, Mary and the kid ☹️☹️
Omg, Mary and the kid ☹️☹️