Midnight Rendezvous-Entry 34

Momma made it in the papers.

Naw, she didn't die or anything, but she was in trouble for getting someone killed.

Yup, you heard it. Momma sorta killed someone.

According to the papers, Momma somehow made our home into a death trap. People said she was starting to become more and more reclusive, alienating her friends and family since the day I ran away from home (though it's not mentioned in the papers about me running away), then slowly getting more and more neurotic as time went by.

A month after she dropped by my place here, she became a shut-in, not taking calls, not going out, ordering her groceries through phone, that sorta thing. If she didn't take out the trash once in a while, no one knew she was even alive at that point.

The police found our entire house rigged with home-made death traps: from trip-wires to trigger buttons to blasting caps, etc. Everything under the sun was all over the place. They had to call in the bomb squad to try and disable everything just in case she's got some nuke bomb stored somewhere.

And guess who bit the bullet from her trap?

That ol' bitch Mrs. Crumps.

That's right. The owner of that nasty lil' White Witch.

Apparently she played the concerned neighbor and went to check on Momma to see if she was alright when she somehow triggered the trip wire that was rigged to a bloody shotgun aimed at the back door. Hell if I know why she'd wanna come in through the back door, but after her long-standing grudge against us for so-called killing her cat, I doubt she came to see Momma outta the goodness of her heart.

Can't say she deserved it or not, but boy, that was one helluva way to go.

Momma is now in custody awaiting trial and under psych evaluation, says the papers, but I wouldn't put it past the looney bin as her new home.

The Thin and Pale is peeking in through the window again.

I hold up the newspaper to him and asked if he made all this happen.

He didn't reply me, as usual.

He just tilted his head like he usually does.

Figures.

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