The Sins of Our Fathers

VII The Fall

"Are you happy now?" I screamed at a paralyzed Zachariah. I climbed off the girl I had killed to make my way over to the bane of my existence.
"I wouldn't say happy, more along the lines of surprise. Actually it's quite unfortunate, you see I sort of intended for you to die, although it does give me the chance to find a more... Creative punishment."
A cold smile spread across his face as he raised the gun, training it on my temple. "Or I could just kill you now."
The safety clicked on the gun signaling my imminent demise. Curling my fingers around the handle of the dagger I turned to face him keeping the blade shielded behind my thigh.
"Go ahead kill me! Do you really think I care anymore?" I barked spinning around and began to walk away. "You're leaving already? But I have so much to tell you." The snake cooed his voice dripping with venom. "It's about your mother."
My steps faltered coming slower and slower until they halted all together. "What do you know?" I asked my tone equally as dangerous.
"More than you." He sneered, "And I know the truth."
I scoffed. "That my mother was an angel on this Earth that was taken by damn cancer too soon?"
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, your mother was so much more." He sang sinisterly.
I looked him square in the eyes when I answered challenging him to tell me anything different. "You're right," I said lowly, "She was so much more than the rest of us. Unlike you or me she actually had a soul, she walked in the light fighting everyday to stay there and hold on to that ever fading light. I was there for a while too, but without her that light gets dimmer and further from my grasp. So don't you dare tell me that my mother was anything, but an angel because you're a demon straight out of hell."
He smirked, curling the edges of his poisonous mouth. "A demon hmm? Well, well isn't that refreshing that someone sees me for who I am. I just have two questions for you little Casimir and then we'll see how sure you are of your precious mommy."
He stepped closer, the gun still between us pointing at my pounding head. My lips were clamped shut, not giving willing to give him any sign of fear as I waited for him to continue.
"If your dear deceased mother was oh so innocent then how did she meet your father? Because we all know he was never a loving sweet man, even when he was younger."
He watched my expression searching for a sign he'd gotten to me, but found nothing. My face was a blank canvas never moving despite the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through my mind. "Nothing? I thought as much."
I blinked staring at him at him blankly as I sighed. His mouth twitched and his grip tightened on the gun as he continued.
"One more thing and then we can get back to business." He said nodding at the gun. "Did you ever think it was a bit strange that your mother died from cancer despite being declared healthy less than a week earlier? Or that it was strange no one let you see the body?"
"That was three questions." I replied coolly.
"You really don't understand do you?" He sneered.
"Four." I said.
He was wrong though I did understand, in fact I understood too well. No one had let me see my mother, it had been a closed casket funeral, but no one knew I had seen my mother one last time.
It was less than two days after she died, and I was forced into a stiff black wool dress that was much too tight for me. I had been taken to the funeral home to say my goodbyes to my mother, then I was to be taken to live with my father. All day people had come and gone each wishing to tell me that they were there for me, and how sorry they were. Every single one of the pathetic creatures had claimed to understand my loss. "I know exactly how you feel, but it gets better trust me." Each said flashing me a big fake smile full of pity.
I didn't want their pity. I didn't want any of this. I just wanted to say good bye to my mother and be alone with my grief, but not a single person would let me be.
After three hours I couldn't take anymore, so I did what I did best and disappeared into the shadows and found a dark room a few doors down. There I let the tears fall for the remaining hours falling into a pit of grief that I would never fully get out of. I stayed there sobbing and choking on tears until the door knob turned and someone came into the room with a casket. Quietly I crouched down behind a bench in the back. Listening as two of the morticians opened the casket.
"Poor thing, no wonder it was a closed casket viewing, there's so many holes in her she looks like a piece of Swiss cheese."
The other chuckled slightly. "That's what you get when you've done the things she has."
"True, the woman has almost as many enemies as friends."
"At least she kept it together for the girl though, poor thing will have to be raised by the devil himself now."
Their voices faded as the door closed behind them and I stood up my mind unable to catch up to what had been said. A spot light shone down on the casket in the far corner drawing me over to it like a moth to a flame.
Slowly my mother's face came into view- at least I assumed it was her. The previously smooth porcelain skin that everyone always said belonged to a model was destroyed. The mortician was right, her skin's pallor and the holes riddling it gave the impression that she was made of Swiss cheese. Her nose was gone, torn off by the barrel of a gun, her forehead seemed to have a crown drawn on it; on closer inspection though the line making it was in fact dozens of bullets lodged in her skull.
I threw my hand up to my mouth stifling a scream. My mother, oh my god my mother, had the doctors done that to her. Unable to bear it I turned around and fled the image of my mother's mutilated face burning in my mind.

At the time I hadn't understood what had really happened, I had thought it was a treatment of cancer. Growing older though I had realized the truth, but I blocked it from my mind holding on to the lie like it was my lifeline.
"I know." I whispered softly, "I understand."
"Good, it's about time you figured out your mother was murdered."
As he said it a thought struck me. "How do you know?" I asked quietly, already suspecting the answer that was threatening to send me over the edge.
"I know, because I'm the one who killed her."
As soon as he confirmed it, whatever fragile hold on my rage I'd had vanished. The light that I had worked to hard to keep in sight like my mother had was finally snuffed out and I was swallowed by the darkness. Rage and hatred propelled me forward. Zachariah's fingers fumbled with the gun, but it was already too late. My arm leaned back and pitched forward, sending the knife straight into Zachariah's throat.