Scribblings from the Asylum Walls

Momma's Toy by TaintedRainbows

Little six-year-old Charlotte Haworth was never really a daddy's girl, not that her daddy particularly cared. Mr. Lawrence Haworth was one of those people who thought that he could do as he pleased despite having the responsibilities of supporting his own family. On most nights, he would return home by taxi between the late hours of 11p.m. to 3a.m. ridiculously drunk and reeking of a stench; a cross between women's perfume and dried vomit.

On one fateful night, his overly passive wife Marlene warily confronted him about his behavior.

"Larry, honey.. p-please," she stuttered reluctantly under her breath.

"What do you want with me, Marlene?" Lawrence hissed, reclining wearily in his couch, clearly a bit dazed.

She stood meekly before him, averting her gaze and instead, staring at the aged wooden paneling beneath her feet.

"We don't have enough money for next month's rent, Larry.. let alone grocery money.. and I'm begging you to stop with your nightly partying," she murmured softly.

"Don't tell me how to live my life, bitch," he spat, his voice heavy with venom.

"Please.. Please, Larry! I'm doing all I can to keep this family together.. and Charlotte, she deserves better!" she pleaded, falling to her knees rather dramatically as tears formed at her lower lashes, threatening to cascade down her rounded, youthful face; bland in color and slightly sunken due to overwhelming stress.

Lawrence grunted, his patience shortening.

"Shut the hell up," he growled dryly.

"B-but.."

"I said.. SHUT THE HELL UP!" his voice sharply rose to a commanding yell.

Marlene choked back a sob, her tears betraying her as they began streaming down her cheeks.

It was then that Lawrence's vision went red. In a drunken haze, he lunged himself over a shaken Marlene. His hands grasped around her frail neck, his jaw clenching. More tears streamed down the female's narrowing eyes, her lips quivering as her strained breaths hastened.

"L-Larry.. Don't.." she barely managed to mouth, her chest heaving desperately.

She clutched as his wrists, digging her nails into his flesh. He grimaced, his thumbs pressing further into the crest of her collarbone, his grip tightening. He grazed his clenched teeth, rage pumping through the raised veins at his knuckles.

"When I tell you to shut up, you SHUT UP, dumb bitch," he growled, shaking her vigorously in his unforgiving hold.

Marlene clawed and scratched at her husband's wrists in vain, her eyes rolling back into her head as her efforts clearly failed. She heaved her last and her muscles went limp. Lawrence blinked blankly, his composure suddenly returning. His head spun and his grip instantly eased. The female's corpse dropped lifelessly onto the aged, wooden planks with a hollow THUD. He staggered back, realizing just what he had done. His breaths spiked, panicking as his eyes shifting from one corner of the room to another, contemplating his next move. Just then, his gaze landed on two exaggeratedly widened, naïve hazel eyes.