Post by Kari Muffin on Mar 30, 2008 1:31:27 GMT -5
So... I did this in the first person. And it's so very emo.... so don't read it unless you really really want to know a bit Conway's back story.
Or you don't have to listen to me because I'm tired and really should be in bed. If you read it I hope you enjoy. By the way... his mother and Uncle are felines of the Persian persuasion.
Kick Me Like a Stray
My mother wasn't a bad person. She was one of the few people who could make my Uncle smile after Auntie died. Even when he played with June sometimes, the smile was forced, but with Mom around he was always happy. That's why I can't really explain what happened to my mother. She fell apart, and it was probably all my fault.
I should have noticed something was wrong. I was nine years old, but I should have noticed a few things. The way she forgot to cook sometimes, the way she looked at June sometimes, just the little things. Maybe if I had noticed something like that my family wouldn't have fallen apart.
It should have been a normal day. I was reading a book to June at the time. She was six but she liked it when I tried to read some of the novels that father had brought back from his trips to Capital City. I didn't like my father. He was the cause of all our problems. He was the reason why Uncle hated coming over. He was the reason why my sister broke. He did things no human being should do. He should have died, and he did.
I just never thought my mother would do such a thing. We heard a scream. I told June to stay where she was, but I should have known she would never listen to me. She was six after all. When did a six year old listen to her brother?
I went to the source of the scream. When I opened the door that led to my parent's bedroom I was horrified. That wasn't even the word really. My mother, who was so very kind and loving, was standing over the body of my still breathing father. His throat was slit from ear to ear, the blood... the blood was just everywhere. I couldn't stop looking, not even when my mother spoke.
"Conway, sweetie, where's June?" she asked. It wasn't really her anymore. It was someone else. My mother could never sound so lost and broken. She had always known want to do.
I heard my sister squeak from behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. My eyes darted up to see my mother turning around. The knife was still clutched tightly in her hands as my father breathed his last breath behind her. Neither my sister or I could move. Our father was gone, that was good, but so was our mother. She may have been walking towards us, but it wasn't really her. Our mother never could have been so broken.
"Come here, Juniper," she ordered.
My sister remained still, I was standing between my mother and sister. She was looking down at me with empty eyes. A shiver ran down my spine as my mother leaned forward.
"No!" I found myself saying. "No no no! Mom! No!" I was begging, wasn't I?
She drew back her hand in shock. The expression she wore was of complete confusion. "Don't worry, Conway, I'm just going to put your sister out of her misery. Then everything will be fine. I promise."
"No! Don't hurt June!"
Her face, I could never describe that look. It was something between shock and sadness. Or maybe it was disappointment. I don't know anymore. All I know is the look hurt. "You don't love me as much as her do you? You're just like your father... no. No! You could never be as horrible as that man!"
I knew what she was talking about. I was terrified. I backed away from her, trying to push my sister away as well. I still don't know why she could just move.
Then my mother did something I'll never forget. She started laughing. It wasn't a happy sound like her normal life. It was something empty, something insane. I think at that point my mother lost what little hope she had left of being happy. Which is why she took the knife and used it on herself.
I didn't want to see it, but I did. All I can remember now is all the red. Red brighter than the Heart on my mother's chest or so my head tells me. I watched her fall to the ground. I saw her there, dead, I think. My sister was still behind me. I didn't know what to do. Had it really happened? Did my mother just kill herself because I said "No"?
I wanted to get help, but I couldn't. No one besides Uncle knew I existed, and what would a person do if I told them there were two dead people in the house? I was at a complete loss as I continued to stare at what was in front of me.
I guess that was the point where I realized I could never be safe. I could never have a family again now that it had been taken away. If I hadn't stopped my mother by saying a simple two letter word another member of my family would have been missing. Or she could have killed me and herself shortly after. Anything could have happened when she wasn't herself... but none of it really mattered to me at the time. I was a nine years old, I had a six year old sister, and the only person we could relay on hated me because I reminded him of my mother.
My uncle came to the house a day later. He had brought my mother flowers. Bright red flowers to match the heart on her chest, and the blood that was on the floor.
He blamed me for it. My sister cried. I ran away. I'm still running away, but I'll always have the memories.
I just wanted a family. Why can't I have one like everyone else?
Or you don't have to listen to me because I'm tired and really should be in bed. If you read it I hope you enjoy. By the way... his mother and Uncle are felines of the Persian persuasion.
Kick Me Like a Stray
My mother wasn't a bad person. She was one of the few people who could make my Uncle smile after Auntie died. Even when he played with June sometimes, the smile was forced, but with Mom around he was always happy. That's why I can't really explain what happened to my mother. She fell apart, and it was probably all my fault.
I should have noticed something was wrong. I was nine years old, but I should have noticed a few things. The way she forgot to cook sometimes, the way she looked at June sometimes, just the little things. Maybe if I had noticed something like that my family wouldn't have fallen apart.
It should have been a normal day. I was reading a book to June at the time. She was six but she liked it when I tried to read some of the novels that father had brought back from his trips to Capital City. I didn't like my father. He was the cause of all our problems. He was the reason why Uncle hated coming over. He was the reason why my sister broke. He did things no human being should do. He should have died, and he did.
I just never thought my mother would do such a thing. We heard a scream. I told June to stay where she was, but I should have known she would never listen to me. She was six after all. When did a six year old listen to her brother?
I went to the source of the scream. When I opened the door that led to my parent's bedroom I was horrified. That wasn't even the word really. My mother, who was so very kind and loving, was standing over the body of my still breathing father. His throat was slit from ear to ear, the blood... the blood was just everywhere. I couldn't stop looking, not even when my mother spoke.
"Conway, sweetie, where's June?" she asked. It wasn't really her anymore. It was someone else. My mother could never sound so lost and broken. She had always known want to do.
I heard my sister squeak from behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. My eyes darted up to see my mother turning around. The knife was still clutched tightly in her hands as my father breathed his last breath behind her. Neither my sister or I could move. Our father was gone, that was good, but so was our mother. She may have been walking towards us, but it wasn't really her. Our mother never could have been so broken.
"Come here, Juniper," she ordered.
My sister remained still, I was standing between my mother and sister. She was looking down at me with empty eyes. A shiver ran down my spine as my mother leaned forward.
"No!" I found myself saying. "No no no! Mom! No!" I was begging, wasn't I?
She drew back her hand in shock. The expression she wore was of complete confusion. "Don't worry, Conway, I'm just going to put your sister out of her misery. Then everything will be fine. I promise."
"No! Don't hurt June!"
Her face, I could never describe that look. It was something between shock and sadness. Or maybe it was disappointment. I don't know anymore. All I know is the look hurt. "You don't love me as much as her do you? You're just like your father... no. No! You could never be as horrible as that man!"
I knew what she was talking about. I was terrified. I backed away from her, trying to push my sister away as well. I still don't know why she could just move.
Then my mother did something I'll never forget. She started laughing. It wasn't a happy sound like her normal life. It was something empty, something insane. I think at that point my mother lost what little hope she had left of being happy. Which is why she took the knife and used it on herself.
I didn't want to see it, but I did. All I can remember now is all the red. Red brighter than the Heart on my mother's chest or so my head tells me. I watched her fall to the ground. I saw her there, dead, I think. My sister was still behind me. I didn't know what to do. Had it really happened? Did my mother just kill herself because I said "No"?
I wanted to get help, but I couldn't. No one besides Uncle knew I existed, and what would a person do if I told them there were two dead people in the house? I was at a complete loss as I continued to stare at what was in front of me.
I guess that was the point where I realized I could never be safe. I could never have a family again now that it had been taken away. If I hadn't stopped my mother by saying a simple two letter word another member of my family would have been missing. Or she could have killed me and herself shortly after. Anything could have happened when she wasn't herself... but none of it really mattered to me at the time. I was a nine years old, I had a six year old sister, and the only person we could relay on hated me because I reminded him of my mother.
My uncle came to the house a day later. He had brought my mother flowers. Bright red flowers to match the heart on her chest, and the blood that was on the floor.
He blamed me for it. My sister cried. I ran away. I'm still running away, but I'll always have the memories.
I just wanted a family. Why can't I have one like everyone else?
*HUGS CONWAY*
