The Darker Side of Me

In Memoriam

Mom had run to our neighbor's dilapidated house. Staring out the window, my five-year-old hands pressed against the glass, I saw her pleading with Mr. Myrtok. HIs wrinkled old face soured and he slammed the door. The same thing happened with Missy Turner, and Ellis, and every other door she tried.

I tilted my head to stare at the dirt floor. A teardrop created a tiny circle of mud. I was so hungry. Little Brady started to fuss, and my dad whispered to him, swinging the infant all around. It distracted him for a time, but his tiny belly was still empty. Even play couldn't take his mind off of his hunger. Mom couldn't produce any milk; she was too malnourished. We were all little more than skin and bones.

"Daddy?" I whispered.

"What is it, Jennaling?"

"Why don't we live in a big city? I heard they give you three meals a day. Can you imagine that? Three!" I shouted, getting excited.

"Oh, baby girl," he said, coming to me and putting his free arm around my shoulders. "The cities are full of very bad people."

"Like shoulders?"

He chuckled a little. "Yes, baby, lots and lots of soldiers."

"But if they're mean, why do they give lots an' lotsa food?"

"They want you to think they're nice."

"Trickery! Avast, foul beast!" I exclaimed, quoting my favorite bedtime story. Dad laughed. I loved his laugh. His face became concerned too quickly, though, when he heard shouting outside the window. I ran to the smudged glass to have a look. What I saw made my face flare red.

"Daddy! That's MOMMY! Why's the shoulder yelling at her? She's the bestest mommy in the whole world! THA'S MEAN!!!" I shouted, running and grabbing the door handle.

"Jenna, no!" he yelled as I charged out the door. The soldier sneered at me and swung the gun in my direction. I yelped as I registered the fact that an actual gun barrel was pointing at my face.

"Leave my mommy alone!" I shouted bravely, kicking a rock to the side, knowing better than to throw it at the soldier himself.

"Hello little one," he crooned sadistically.

"Leave her alone!" my mother shouted. "She doesn't know what she's doing! She's only five." Her voice broke. "Please, just leave my baby girl alone."

He kept his attention on me. "Little one, do you have a name?"

"J-jenna?" I stuttered.

"Now Jenna, do you know why I was yelling at your mother?"

"'Cause... 'cause... she was out too late?" I tried.

"Correct!" He turned to Mom. "Even your daughter knows the rules, but you seem to have forgotten them." Back to me. "Do you know what the punishment is for breaking the rules?"

Silently, I shook my head. "Why, dear girl, let me show you." Without warning, he pirouetted toward my mother and shot her in the heart. If only it had been a plasma gun... she wouldn't have suffered... but the soldiers out here used bullets. They made up for their smaller numbers with greater cruelty.

"MOMMY!" I screamed, horrified. I ran to her side. "Mommy, get up get up PLEASE. You gotta come home and rock Brady and tuck me in and you can't die you can't!!!"

Tears poured from my eyes like waterfalls. My whole body shook with sobs. I tried to press my hands to her wound, but soon my ragged pink dress was covered with blood. Hopelessly, I dropped my head to her breast, which I had used so many times as a pillow when she rocked me to sleep. I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned teary eyes to the matching face, I saw the soldier who had murdered her. His eyes were unreadable black pools, many fathoms deep. With my reality shattered and nothing making sense, I buried my face in his chest, seeking comfort from anyone I could. He picked me up and carried me home almost tenderly before throwing me through the window.