Poison Ink (Short Story)

Death Is A Sad, Sad Thing (6)

Poison Ink

Chapter 6 - Death Is A Sad, Sad Thing

Yesterday was the worst day of my life, or so I thought. My mother questioned me all day about whether I had anything to do with the break-in. I said no each time, but she pressed on. I felt like I was going to explode I was about to tell her the truth, but then she stopped questioning me. She tells me that she is proud of me for keeping my cool when the officer came, and she said it was stupid of her to even think that I would do such a thing. I laugh with her hoping she doesn’t notice my nervousness.

I walk up the stairs and leap toward my room,I quickly slam my door closed and lock it. I look through my window, searching for the book (Poison Ink.) I now realize how stupid it was of me to throw it. I grab onto the window sill, and edge myself down until my feet are almost touching the ground, an ounce of fear attacks me as I sweep down and grab the book, what if the curse is real? I hear my mother announcing that it is dinnertime and that the food will be ready in a few minutes. I climb back into my room ,I shout a quick excuse, saying that I’m feeling sick, and that I’m going to sleep now.

''Okay'' she yells back, ''Come down if you feel any better'' she says. I nod my head, realizing she can’t see me. I laugh at my foolishness. I don’t go down to eat, I stay in my room pondering what I should do. I decide to go to bed, better to sleep on my thoughts. I wake up to... silence, the whole house seems to be still asleep. I wonder how early it is, I look to my clock expecting it to read 5am or something early. It doesn’t, it’s 10am, past breakfast and the whole house is quiet.

Panic overwhelms me, my mother is usually wide awake at this time, the radio on, breakfast ready, and upbeat. I slowly walk towards her room fear eating away at me, I quietly open her bedroom door. She’s sleeping, or at least I think she’s sleeping, she’s holding a small book in her hand. No, it can’t be what I think it is, it is ,the spine reads “Poison Ink.” Fear shoves it self down my throat, No , it’s impossible. I walk towards my mother, it feels like slow motion. She’s cold... absolutely cold, I scream and wail hoping to wake up from this nightmare. I don’t wake up, I stay in a state of silence it feels like years, I look back to the clock it’s been 2 hours.

I pick up the clock and throw it at the wall, ''Mama!'' I sob, ''No, it can’t be. I love you how could this have happened?''

I blame myself, cursing and sobbing, the ugly truth of reality shakes my body. She’s dead, forever gone, and it’s all my fault. I feel like I’m trapped in a tornado of grief, none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me. Stupid, stupid, me. How could I have laughed at the curse the curse had done the worst thing it could, it killed my mother. It killed the only mother I had, the only mother I would ever have.