The Bored Book

A Mother's Remorse

Fingertips burning at my wrist. This wasn't what i expected to miss. The room was just as i left it. The aroma of mildew and drying paint that i couldn't remove still fresh in the air as the first day we moved in.

We seemed so hopeful then. I was pregnant with Bessie, my second child, and i had all the hope in the world her father would stick around. Of course, he didn't. They never do.

They sat on the couch where i left them. Peaceful pain written on their childish faces. Elliot, the youngest, barely a year, look a great deal frightened. His bubbly face still warm to the touch. I had the desire, the instinct, to take him in my arms and hold him tirelessly, to ease his pain, his frustration and sadness. But i couldn't, i could never again.

He had stopped breathing hours before.

My oldest, a girl at twelve, had complained of a headache.It was the whole reason i left them alone. She was in pain. it pain, it pain, it pain, it pain. Mama make it stop! Please, it pains.

I used it as an excuse not to watch them die and left to buy her medicine.

Now she laid next to her brother. Arms jointed and bodies close for warmth and love. A sign of shining sibling affection. They had been close, always playing together. I was so lucky they got along. So-so lucky, i was lucky. I'm glad they had each other, I'm glad...I'm gl-glad.

I cover them with a blanket from our only other room in the house. It was sort of bedroom but doubled as everything else too. They were cold now, bodies lost their heat. I can keep them warm, they will wake up. I know they will.

I was so angry. But not at them, the young one's father didn't even buy them Christmas clothes. I went to confront him, i tried. I really did, i expected the punch and kick, so i took it as i always did. I always went back.

What else could i do?

My twenty five years of life haven't been easy. I made bad choices and deserved what i got, i knew this well. I deserved even worse now.

They died slowly, painful and alone.

I wasn't even there to watch the life leave their eyes.

I should be dead. I should be with them. But instead i go to a cavern and try to drink it away. It works, but not really. Not in a way that matters.

I sleep at a friend's house. I tell no one, i can't tell them. Its burning me and i can't tell them. So I go back to check on them. They still there, their breathless response to my touch even more horrendous than before.

By now a clear white drool ran down some of their faces and so i took it as possibility to act one last motherly gesture. I cleared them, by now their bodies were overly stiff and troublingly soft in odd places.

I cried.

I couldn't believe it. What i had done?

Too late.

Too late.

I leave them again.

They rot away. I can lie no longer, they're fresh turning grey and eyes a pearly white. I can lie no longer.

They are discovered.

They had taken the food willingly, why wouldn't they? The eyes held complete trust and utter ignorance as they ate the breed laced with rat poison that i bought from a unknowing street vendor.

What have i done?

They played, they played outside until one collapsed. They played and played till all died.

Now, as i sat in my cell for life, they only ever played in my mind.

_________________________________________

This based on the true story that happened recently. So recently that she was sentenced to life for the murder of her four kids only today.