Still Marie paused. Trying to find the words to excuse her cruelty, her silence. But it was impossible to find the words, so summoning up the courage, she left the bedroom and walked into the living room. She’d expected to be greeted by Anna’s accusatory glare, but miracle of miracles the girl was asleep. Her crying had finally worn the young teenager out and for a brief moment she was free of their nightmare. Anna was at peace.
What if she never woke up? Marie was suddenly exhilarated by this thought. She knew she would never shoot her own daughter – that was an impossibility. But there were other ways. In the years since Anna was diagnosed, Marie had read of numerous instances where mothers who had been unable to cope with their child’s severe disabilities had taken their lives. They said it was to end their child’s suffering, but it was to end theirs too. Society viewed them with sympathy, so why not her too? Anything would be better than slowly starving to death here. Their bodies would rebel against them soon anyway, so what choice was there?
Marie found herself back in her bedroom. Heading to the bed, she picked up the thin pillow and turned it over in her hands. Her mind was racing now. Would she have the courage to do it? Or would her nerve fail her? Vomit suddenly rose into her mouth – she dropped to her knees and was violently sick in the bin. Picking herself up, she found that the pillow was still clutched tightly in her hands.
Best not to hesitate. Best not to waver. So Marie quickly marched out of her bedroom and back into the room where her daughter was slumbering peacefully.
I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t resist. I’d searched in vain for ways to hurt him. Never been able to. And then suddenly it fell right into my lap…
My mother had found it rooting around the bins at the edge of the estate. Funny little mongrel with a white patch over one eye. Cute if a bit mangy. She’d given it to my dad as a birthday present. I think she thought he might hang around if he had something to care for. A simple plan, but it kinda worked. Ok so he still went off for days at a time, drinking, fighting and shagging the local slags, but he doted on that mutt. He was forever petting it, whilst the rest of us watched on, ignored.
It’s funny, but once you know you’re going to do something bad, everything immediately feels better. You feel light-headed, euphoric, free. No one else knows what you’re planning. No one can stop you. It’s your dirty little secret. The days before I did it were some of the happiest of my life.