Fear the Reaper Please?

Chapter 1

Death is a presumable thing.

Irritable and irascible, feathers and stones. The glory, the pain. It's really a simple choice, all you need is a blade and a prepared mind. This is exactly what I was thinking when my ex-husband took his choice to end.

Oh the irony.

I was sitting on a plush red cushion in the movie theater, watching Maleficent. And it was the good part -when someone was about to die.

Oh some more irony.

I had also been fingering my nonexistent popcorn, imagining the yellow butter overwhelm my senses. Yes, I got plenty of looks from teenagers but I get those anyways. And by the clothes they were wearing, I was surprised that was even considered an article of clothing. My phone had vibrated and I was quite surprised. I rarely get calls, the only person in my contacts is the tax managers because apparently, I need to pay my taxes. Most people assumed that I was a oddity with little or no mental capabilities.
I'm not denying anything.

I knew it wasn't the tax people because I actually paid my taxes this time, so that is probably why I greeted that person that way.

"Who the hell are you and why the hell are you calling me" I had barked.

The person stuttered on the other end, obviously miffed.
Well, whatever

"Umm?? Ma'am, it has been reported your husband has died"

The first thing I remember saying was

"He's not my damn husband"

And obviously he wasn't. We were young and not in love. Surprise, surprise. A twist from that fairy tale. He loved me, but I was never capable of loving. Then I became pregnant. I couldn't manage a kid, and in the turmoil I left. I thought nothing of it. They would be able to fend off just fine without me.

I couldn't stand his sappiness. Also everything he does.

And I felt no emotion at his death. I was a blank glassy doll who was extremely bored. I wanted to get back to my movie. I felt no urge to bend down and sob, no feeling of exploding ripping and shredding apart.

"And .... It's the matter of your daughter"

Oh I forgot about her. Don't think about me as a worse person than you already thought but I don't like her. She is a little clawing rat. A rat because she annoys me more than anything else and that is saying something. You probably know by now that i just don't like people. And the prospect of my own tiny people running all around the place frightened me. The prospect of meeting children scares me. I would always say the wrong thing, always mess it up. Like, in front of a kid in the grocery store, i taught it how damn is not a bad word. Like its perfectly fine if a kids' first word was damn, right?

And my own daughter would be no different. But the tiniest smidge of me was scared of what the guy was actually saying. Would that little beast really have to live with me? I don't want her to! What the hell did I do to deserve this?

Well I did a lot of things...

"What"

"Oh yes, your daughter will be at your house in one hour"

"I HATE THIS HELL"

My breath was hitched and my skin was clammy. When I cast both of them off, the point was to never meet them again. My heart pounded, and I could feel temple pulsing with anger and pain. I got migraines quite frequently.

I had to get rid of her. Oh... yes, i will give her up for adoption. Yes, yes that will work.

So I left the movie in a flurry, and went to my house to meet my daughter and then send her off again.

Yet, alas that was not the case and how i found myself in front of my daughter, with her twisted angry expression. Yet the chilling thing about her, was that she looked exactly like me.