My Son is About to Kill Me

Everything hurts. My thoughts are scrambled by a droning sound resembling millions of cicadas buzzing around in my head, and my body is broken and destroyed. I am dying, but the Reaper is taking his time getting to me.

My distressed son paces in front of me, holding the shotgun he used to turn everything below my kneecaps into pink mist. He is crying and babbling like a baby, and I don't blame him; if I had chained up and shot my parents in my basement I would be a mess too.

"It's not my fault, I didn't want any of this," he mumbled to himself. "I needed to do this. I told them not to leave the house for any reason. And what do they do? They do the exact opposite of what I tell them!" I know he isn't speaking to me, but it doesn't feel like he is taking in his own words either. He turns and looks to me.

"I'm so sorry, mom." Tears are streaming down his face. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two shotgun shells. Under any other circumstances, I would be screaming and pleading for my life. But now, my throat is far too dry to do anything besides let out faint wheezes. He takes aim at my head, just like he did with his father yesterday.

He had always loved me more. Yesterday, when my son shot my husband, he probably didn't even see him as human. Part of him was likely happy he was killing his dad. After the years of neglect, I can't really blame him. But I was not my husband. Through the years, I filled the void my husband's apathy created, and my son loved me for that. And now, he was going to shoot me in the head.

"No!" He screamed as he threw down his gun. I traced him as he walked back and forth in the basement. He was having a change of heart.

"You're my mother. I don't know why I thought you would hurt me. I don't know why I'm doing this. I love you, mom." He again walks over to me, and I begin to panic.

I wanted to tell him to stay away.

I wanted to croak out my death wish.

I wanted to turn away as he embraced my body in a hug.

But I failed.

As he kissed my cheek, I unwillingly returned his favor by using the burst of adrenaline and hatred the infection gave me to take a bite out of his face. If my body was still mine, I would have been bawling my eyes out. But my body was no longer mine, and soon, my son's wouldn't be his either.

He stumbles back in pain and confusion, beginning to convulse. The infection is taking hold of him. As I fall back defeated, still chained, I can't feel guilty. All I can feel is the buzzing controlling my broken body, and now, his.

---
Credits

Comments

A Wish Come True (A Short Story)

I woke up with a start when I found myself in a very unfamiliar place. The bed I was lying on was grand—an English-quilting blanket and 2 soft pillows with flowery laces. The whole place was fit for a king! Suddenly the door opened and there stood my dream prince: Katsuya Kimura! I gasped in astonishment for he was actually a cartoon character. I did not know that he really exist. “Wake up, dear,” he said and pulled off the blanket and handed it to a woman who looked like the maid. “You will be late for work.” “Work?” I asked. “Yes! Work! Have you forgotten your own comic workhouse, baby dear?” Comic workhouse?! I…I have became a cartoonist? That was my wildest dreams! Being a cartoonist! I undressed and changed into my beige T-shirt and black trousers at once and hurriedly finished my breakfast. Katsuya drove me to the workhouse. My, my, was it big! I’ve never seen a bigger place than this! Katsuya kissed me and said, “See you at four, OK, baby?” I blushed scarlet. I always wan...

Hans and Hilda

Once upon a time there was an old miller who had two children who were twins. The boy-twin was named Hans, and he was very greedy. The girl-twin was named Hilda, and she was very lazy. Hans and Hilda had no mother, because she died whilst giving birth to their third sibling, named Engel, who had been sent away to live wtih the gypsies. Hans and Hilda were never allowed out of the mill, even when the miller went away to the market. One day, Hans was especially greedy and Hilda was especially lazy, and the old miller wept with anger as he locked them in the cellar, to teach them to be good. "Let us try to escape and live with the gypsies," said Hans, and Hilda agreed. While they were looking for a way out, a Big Brown Rat came out from behind the log pile. "I will help you escape and show you the way to the gypsies' campl," said the Big Brown Rat, "if you bring me all your father's grain." So Hans and Hilda waited until their father let them out, ...

I've Learned...

Written by Andy Rooney, a man who had the gift of saying so much with so few words. Rooney used to be on 60 Minutes TV show. I've learned.... That the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person. I've learned.... That when you're in love, it shows. I've learned .... That just one person saying to me, 'You've made my day!' makes my day. I've learned.... That having a child fall asleep in your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world. I've learned.... That being kind is more important than being right. I've learned.... That you should never say no to a gift from a child. I've learned.... That I can always pray for someone when I don't have the strength to help him in any other way. I've learned.... That no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with. I've learned.... That sometimes all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to understand. I...

The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

Search This Blog