Deception

Chapter III - Reunited

My husband in bed, the mattress slowly soaking up the blood and turning into a dark, scarlet red, I left him. I bestowed a kiss upon his cheek and said 'this is for your own good'.

I stood by the fire, posture resolute, teacup in hand. The warmth travelling through my skin, giving me strength. I glared at the flames, wild and determined, its aggression was a force to be reckoned with. Then a small ember by the side of the fire pit caught my eye. It was flickering, trying hard to make itself seen. And so it did, catching onto a newspaper it broke out into a luminous blaze dwarfing the previous fire. Only a spark is needed she thought to herself.

***

My sole goal now was to retrieve my son from the old lady. I was to teach him to be a good, honest man; the envy of the entire world. I walked for miles, with blood streaking my clothes, I walked throughout the night to avoid detection and finally arrived at the cottage. Smoke was slowly and gradually travelling up the chimney into the blue sky, a strip of black being the result. The cool wind blew my hair over my face, making me  shiver. I approached the large wooden door, the house seemed more maintained since my last visit, probably the result of my son. The sun was rising beautifully over the vast fields in which the cottage was positioned as I approached. This was the moment I had been waiting for.

My hands were now completely red with dried blood. My dress was covered in blood also and my hair had clumped. I knocked on the door, dry blood shedding to the ground as I did so. The door slowly opened, first darkness, and finally a young, tall man appeared from behind the entrance and entered the light.

He was strangely bruised and bloody. He looked frightened, eyes wide, frantically taking glances between the ground and I. I grabbed him and embraced him hard, while he stood completely immobile. What had happened to him? Why did he seem tortured? Out from behind my embrace came that old woman, grabbing my son and pulling him away from me. The woman too strong for my grasp, as I was weakened by the pang of pain from seeing the state my son was in. 'What do you want,' she screamed, as I jumped back, surprised by the viciousness of the woman.

'This is my son, what have you done to him.' I replied, adopting the same vicious tone.

'You left him to me, you peasant,' she said, 'you left him on my doorstep for me to do as I wish.'

I didn't know a woman could be so nefarious and unrelenting. I left my son to her to save him from the dominion of men, a dominion filled with the patriarchal view of dominance and male supremacy. What I failed to realise was that all people can be wicked. I was so caught up in the thought that men were the evil and amoral of the earth that I disregarded the cruelty of women. I should have looked upon myself to realise this.

My blood then boiled to the brim. I looked upon my son: bruised, cut, and sleep deprived. He seemed like he had seen horrors that no person should never experience. This old woman had exposed him to a life of torture and torment. I couldn't let her get away with that. I attacked her, pushing my son to the corner for safety in the process. Even though the woman was old, she was robustly built. I clawed at her throat, then grasped it, strangling her as I did so. Taking the life out of her as she had took the life out of my son. My hands enclosed her entire throat with two hands with scarlet marks starting to form. She choked for breath but I wouldn't give it to her. We ended up on the ground, I was on top of her as she was now trying to say something. But I wouldn't let her, I wouldn't let another dreadful word come out of her lips.

Her breathing finally stopped, her fast heart beat had now halted. My son however lay there in the corner sobbing, I approached him but he ran. He was in fear of his life, yet again.