I hate not feeling well, especially when I catch a cold. I always feel miserable and managing to get out of bed becomes such a challenge. It also makes me feel useless because I still have to look after my family and try and solve the crime of my son Thomas' death.
My husband George, was a wonderful father to Thomas. I can tell he has been affected the most by it, especially when he is with our three year old daughter, Tilly. George has been drifting in and out of consciousness since Thomas' investigation began. I don't like talking about it, but we found Thomas' skeleton delicately placed under our large oak tree in our backyard, stripped of all flesh, with no finger prints on his bones to be seen.
George has been on the phone a lot lately, having heated arguments. When I question him about it, he shrugs it off and just says 'work' in a low monotone voice. I am in the middle of reading Rapunzel to Tilly, when George starts yelling into the phone 'No, we won't, ' George says angrily, 'No one has any leads on the case, stop panicking' screams George. Tilly begins to sob uncontrollably into my chest and when George walks in she runs to her room, bypassing George on the way through. 'Don't be such a cry baby, Tilly' he says nastily.'
'Georgie, I don't feel well, can you please make me a warm drink? I think Thomas' case is putting to much stress on my body.' I ask pleadingly, with a nasally voice.
'Fine Peyton, have a sip of this and go to sleep. I will deal with Tilly.' He says with a clearly annoyed tone in his voice. Sometimes he can really upset me, but being a single parent scares and hurts me even more.
I suffer from getting extremely vivid dreams, and sometimes I can't distinguish between a dream and reality. I open my eyes slightly and see George and two of his brothers, James and William, standing like soldiers by his side. 'Pass it to me, James,' George ordered and James fished out a powdered substance from his pocket. George swiftly snatched the packet and William picked up my mug and held it out as George poured in the powder. I saw them all smile at each other and then they said something, I couldn't quite work it out, but I felt worried and I started to turn around and reposition in bed. The boys notice and quickly depart of my room, realizing that they were disturbing me.
Once I had completely woke up, I turned to my nice warm cup of tea. At first it crossed through my mind not to drink it, because of my previous dream, but then I recalled that George's brothers were in California, so it confirmed my suspicions were false.
I call out to George from my bed, thats strange I thought, I wasn't here before, George must have moved me while I was sleeping.
George comes to knock on the door, and pops his head through the door. 'How is Tilly?' I asked.
'Tilly has never been better, my darling, now come on, go back to sleep.' says George as he exited our bedroom.
I progressively began to toss and turn, fighting the sleep that was overcoming my mind and body.
I looked outside my half open window and I look at the old tree in the backward that spread out as far as five meters in length. However, today the tree was different. My vision was blurry, but clear enough to distinguish that there was something that was hanging from the tree. I once felt comfortable under that tree; George and I deemed that tree 'ours' when we were teenagers. I can hear a merciful cry, but I can't move. I feel my eyes roll to the back of my head and I drift back into a deep state of unconsciousness.
I wake up to the sweet smell of a barbecue coming from downstairs. Despite feeling sick, barbecue ribs are my all time favourite meal, especially when George makes them for me. I slowly make my way to the old, spiral staircase and I take aid from the bannister for safety as my head starts to spin. I am brought back to reality by the waft of barbecued meat from the dinner area. I take each step with caution and when I reach the bottom, I begin to pick up pace straight to my kitchen.
Wanting to surprise George, I creep into the kitchen where I can hear lots of chatter and banter coming from the dining room. This was strange as I didn't know we were expecting company I walk in to find George and his four brothers, James, William, Edward and his step brother Jonathan sat around our table with the centre piece of our daughter Tilly's body laying limp, but cooked tenderly, and not even burnt. I scream in horror at the sight, as George gets up, clenching his carving knife, while the boys surrounding him are smiling widely at me, and licking their lips. It all made sense, why Thomas' bones had been completely stripped of all flesh , and why George was so worried and distant when it came to the investigation.
'Hey Peyton, sweety, do you want to join us for Tilly A La Range? Or do you want to go and look after your precious children?' George asks, but I don't reply, he knows exactly what my answer is, I was never going to eat my daughter. So I let him kill me, the condescending smile etched onto his face as he plunged the knife into my frail body, was the last thing I would ever see.
THE END
