A Couple Of Cards

History Lesson

Mummy always took my Father's beatings. Saying she was a good wife for keeping it hush. My uncle never liked my father. Uncle Jeremiah. A humble but very wealthy man. He ran the casino in Gotham city. Owned every cent. Of course he was very generous as well. Despite hating my father. He adored me. His niece. But when he died it was said in his will that I inherit everything. Father didn't like that. He didn't like it one bit. The beatings got worse for my mother. Everyday I'd come home from elementary school and see her hiding worse and worse wounds under more and more make up. But one night...Ironically Christmas Eve. I heard a shriek. I slowly went down stairs. Now as a child of only 9 years old you don't understand blood very much. But I understood death. Mummy's eyes were blank of any emotion. Her white dress stained in crimson. Such an...Ironic color to wear. Then there stood dear old Dad. Holding a blood stained knife. When he saw me...He didn't see a child...He saw a fortune waiting on my gravestone. I was very sane when a child. Innocence made me ignorant of how the world truly is. But when I saw my reflection in that knife my father held. It was like my whole world shattered. My present that year was a knife in my father's throat. When the police arrived they thought my father killed himself. That I just got myself covered in blood 'trying to wake them up'. I waited in the police station. Humming to myself. They found my prints on the knife and on my father. Again thinking he killed himself. Until they asked me what happened. I told them flat out. "Daddy killed Mummy...Then tried to kill me...So I killed him instead" They were taken back by this. Me a 9 year old girl confessing that I killed my father. I was sent to a mental hospital and earned the name I stay by to this day. Queen.