Failures

She sighed heavily, feeling suddenly very tired.  She wanted to sleep but it was the last thing she could do at this moment.  She had been waiting for the right time and it had presented itself like a shiny holiday gift.  She rolled in her bed and rethought how it would be. From now on.  That thought exhilarated her. She was about to free herself from all the pain.  Free all of them.  Megan flipped the covers back and dressed heavily.  It was cold outside and she had a long way to go. She padded down the hall and collected her toothbrush.  She finished packing and carried all that was left of her life down the stairs to the back door. The house was a little cold. She rubbed and blew on her hands and went back upstairs to begin.  Her mother would be first.

Mother was a loose term.  She was not kind or loving.  She did not show interest in anything that Megan did.  She was so preoccupied with loathing her life and the crappy outcome that she couldn't see how Megan had tried; tried to be a good student, popular, as well as a caring, compassionate daughter. She had tried so hard to be everything ANYTHING to her mom that she had simply worn herself out.  It no longer mattered. She was not trying to please this selfish, demanding spoiled bitch anymore. Nothing was ever right or enough and that was exactly what Megan had had.; enough.  She was going to silence the shoutings of "What have you done?" and "Get away from me!" and the ever popular "I wish you were never born!" forever.  No, her mother would not have to be burdened anymore by Megan's attempts to coerce love and affection.  There would be no more reaching; physically or emotionally by the inconvenient offspring.  Replaying her mother's disgusted grunts and bored eye rolling in her mind for papers, grades, events all shared to achieve recognition or approval, she felt the snarl curl the edges of her heart s much as the corners of her mouth. Love. Maybe she would find it when she was free.  Maybe God could love this wretched excuse for a woman.  The knife pulled in her hands, almost eagerly as Megan marched down the hall.  The woman snored. Megan smiled, thinking the sleeping pills in her snack had been a good idea.  She did not want to be out wrestled. She could not fail. The blade slipped so easily into the skin that Meg had to look to make sure she'd done it.  A thick blanket of blood began to cover the bed.  The woman jerked and struggled but very little.  It was over quickly.

She quickly shuffled down the hall to her younger brother's room.  He lay sleeping with his arms and legs all over and out from under the blankets.  His mouth flopped open, his breath loud and slow.  She cocked her head and  watched for a moment.  She was thinking of how mean he had been.  He had always hit and beat her.  If she won or excelled at something, his jealousy was expressed with his fists. Megan had explained away the bruising and the broken arm by slips, falls or her own stupidity, hoping he would see that in spite of his misdirected animosity, she could love him and she would protect him.  She thought maybe he would change. He had failed to do so. She absently traced the place where the stitches had left a small but raised scar along her lip where he had shut her face in the cross bars of the recliner foot after learning she had once again beaten his GPA.  The rage had been too swift for Meg  to see coming.  A punch in the stomach to drop her down.  She had tried to drag herself away, scrambling to get upright using the chair, but he had simply mauled her in it, hissing that she was "Just so perfect!".  There was so little attention or affection available that they competed fiercely for it. In the end no one ever won because the dead woman never awarded the coveted prize. The sleeping boy whimpered like a puppy and jerked in his sleep. She once again felt her heart begin to pound and the knife began to tug, wanting to once again show its master what silent and deadly skills were possessed when raised, plunged and dragged through something so delicate as flesh.  His eyes slammed open with the first stab.  His limbs flew about and scrambled but Megan was better, quicker; again, again and at least twenty more agains. It was now her turn to throw the angry physical tantrum. She even beat him at being a poor loser.

The final and most tricky of this awful family lay passed out in the family room. He had been the ultimate reason for all of the failures for each and every member of Megan's miserable family.  He was the cause for all of their sadness, inabilities to reach for, help or love each other.  With his dates and tramps that he didn't even bother to hide, he had disassembled their mother's capacity to care or love.  His indiscretions had cost them all their happiness.  Trips to the strip clubs or the bedrooms of the wives of his "friends" had  given only him smiles.  He selfishly put the fun in dysfunctional.  She stood over him and smelled the breath of gin, cigars. She loathed it. Him.  She had tossed the knife into a bag and set it by her bag at the back door. this called for something much more. The bat that he had bought her for her birthday; five days late when he'd forgotten because he was shacked up with his buddy Gus' wife. Happy birthday was what she sang and shouted in her mind as she crushed the last of her pain, leaving it sagging and pulpy in the room ironically named for the one thing she no longer had; family. Panting, she at last lowered the bloody bat. She glanced around the room, hating all that they were not. she then took potshots at the photos; fake, posed; glossy lies. There was only one that made her stop. She smiled over it, tore it and threw it on the ground. On her way back from the garage she paused over it again and picked up what she thought were both pieces, tucking them in to her pocket. One piece snuck quietly under the couch seeking shelter.

The gas can was heavy.  She clumsily hauled it up the stairs and doused each body, beginning with their faces. Even if the fire department came in a rush, they would be charred. She had carefully hauled the woman in to her own room.  Being seventeen, she was almost the same height and build as her too young mother.  The clothes she had taken had all been hers. It was how she wanted it to look.

She heard the baby stir and coo.Her pure little brother would succumb to the smoke. She couldn't take him with her. It was the only regret she had in this matter. She clicked the cigar torch belonging to her dead father and started the fire.  The blue and gold flames raced hungrily throughout the house that was never a home. She turned and escaped with her life.

An older but still just as exhausted woman looked at herself in the mirror.  The baby she'd left behind was sitting in her living room. She had always known he would find her; somehow.  It was a little scary how quickly though. She had casually toured her mother's life, visiting places that could have held memories. No one ever asked questions because her mother had never bothered to keep in touch.  No one knew who she was.  When Andy popped up in Oregon and then Washington, she had made some plans.  Now was the time to act. She smiled to herself and stepped in to the living room where he sat; confused and frightened.  Still just a baby that she could not handle.

The powder dissolved quickly in his glass.  She poured another for herself. She would have enough time to tell him what he wanted to know.  Then she would bring Donna in from outside. She clucked her tongue sadly.  It had just been too easy and perfect; the drugs, the kids, everything. It was such a simple set up. Since Andy wouldn't give up,  she would stop him and this time she would not fail.  Their bodies would burn and be discovered.  Megan would be mistaken for dead (again), killed by a close deranged coworker, who then killed himself. Donna would simply disappear and everyone would think the worst.

"Sit down little brother. I have something to tell you about your life."

Not too shabby if I do say so myself.  This is the companion piece to "Torn". With several suggestions to "finish it" or "round it out", I came up with this. I like it and hope you do too.  Thanks for coming over to see me.  I always have fun when you are here.  Enjoy your week.  I'll see you soon.