Six Little Lullabies

Lizzy Borden

My question was followed by silence and a drastic change in atmosphere. The couple before me, suddenly seemed reluctant to talk.
I was about to apologize for upsetting them, but Mr. Cooper spoke up:

"We... got custody of her, after her parents died. Otherwise she would've been put into the orphanage."
Mrs. Cooper got up and picked up one of the photos, atop of the fireplace.
She handed it to me; it was the picture with the four people and the baby.

"The baby in my arms is little Elizabeth. The people next to us; They are my sister and her husband. Her parents. They lived a normal and happy life until about a year ago. After Lizzy came back from playing outside one day. She... started vehaving strangly."

I immediately took out my notebooke. As a journalist, it was normal for me to carry one.
I flicked through the pages until I found an empty one, as Mrs. Cooper kept on explaining.

"She was six around that time. Usually she would just play in the yard, or meet other children on the street, she lived in, and excitedly tell her parents what she had done that day, when they came all together for dinner. But one day, she became quieter. She became less and less talkative as the days went on until she just stopped talking at all."

I scribbled along as fast as I could, not wanting to miss out on any details. Every little thing could be a clue.
"That really is a strange behavior..." I thought to myself.

"After a few weeks, she even started to become angry, whenever she was asked about her day. It was scary to watch."

Mr. Cooper than continued, giving his wife a break, and putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.
His voice was trembling slightly, as if he was scared to tell what happened then.

"Her parents then tried to take her to a specialist. They just didn't know what else to do. The little angle had become too difficult to handle. It was like she was a completely different person..."

He took a deep breath and I asked: "Would you like to take a break, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper? I'm sure this is really hard for you, right now, and I dont want you to feel uncomfortable."

In all honesty, I felt like I needed a quick break myself. It was a lot to take in and the way they described the change in her personality...
It filled my head with so many questions.

After a reassuring squeeze, from his wife's hand around his, Mr. Cooper was ready to continue.

"Whenever they tried to take Elizabeth to a doctor, she refused with all her might. She became aggressive, and even violent. Elizaverh usually wouldnt hurt a Flyer, but she began scratching anyone who cares to try and Touch her.
She refused to speak with anyone, and we were told that the only time one could hear her voice is, when she was outside playing with her skipping rope."

By now the tea cups had been emptied and the fog outside the window was lifting a bit in the midday sun, and even though it looked like a warm day outside, I felt cold and a shudder went down my spine.

"One day a few moths ago, After she had turned 7, we tried to contact them, like we usually would, but no one would answer the phone. We tried again later but still nothing, so we decided to go visit them."

He swallowed heavily, as if he was about to cry, and I could feel how a there formed a pit of anxiety in my stomach.

"Their house was surrounded my the police, the door and yard covered with
Barrier tape. When we told them, we're relatives, we were told that..."

He trailed off, but I knew what he was about to say.

"They had been murdered..." Mrs. Cooper whispered, and I could see how hard she was trying not to cry.
I could feel my hands shake. I knew what had happened before it was spoken, but it still hit me hard.

"My sincerest condolences..." I managed to say.
They nodded in thanks.

The silence, that filled the room, was almost suffocating and the heavy atmosphere made the air feel cold.
The seconds seemed the slow down, on the ticking clock, that was hanging on the wall over the fire-place.

After, what seemed like hours, Mrs. Cooper, who had managed to hold back her tears, took a deep breath and said:

"They told us, that they were attacked with an ax... and that it had been Elizabeth who had done it.
First we refused to believe it. We knew she had been behaving strangely, but we never thought that she would go that far...
One if the officers told us, that they found Elizabeth in the backyard, happily playing with her skipping rope, her hands and dress bloody, and singing the skip-rope-rhyme, she had been obsesses with, for the las few moths... the Lizzy-Borden-skip-rope-rhyme..."

She trailed off and stared at the coffee table wide-eyed, hand hands tightly clenched and her face pale as a ghost.
Mr. Cooper had also gone place, but not as much as his wife.
He was trying to calm her down, hugging her close and stroking through her hair.

I tried to swallow the knot, that had been forming in my throat. "I apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. It was not my intention, to make you re-live such a traumatic memory..."

I ment what I said. I couldn't even imagen, what it much be like, to have your sister and sister-in-law, as well as her husband be murdered so brutally. And by your own niece as well...

It was almost unnatural of a coincidence, that Elizabeth was obsessed with that rhyme specifically and then proceeded to do something so terrible, yet accurate.

"Please, forgive my macabre question, but... how many times did they get hit..."

"My brother in law... 40 times. My sister got 41..." Mrs. Cooper choked out, trying to keep her tears from falling.

"This is too much of a coincidence!" I realized. "There is more to it, than a simple psychological malfunction. No 7-year-old would be that would be able to make such a rhyme come to live, with such a distrubing amount of accuracy..."

I scribbled down every little detail, while I couldn't help but hear the Lizzy Borden skip-rope-rhyme being quietly sung in the back of my head...

Lizzy Borden took an ax,
gave her father 40 whacks.
When she saw what she had done,
gave her father 41...