Torn

I was left to die. I only survived because the firefighters didn't know we were all supposed to be dead and they scooped me up, carried me outside, leaving behind my family. I remember very little. I don't think my mind wants me to.  I dream in screams and blazes.  Heat terrifies me.

I was given a new family and no one spoke of it; the murders.  I grew up reasonably happy and ignorant to the horrors of my past.  I knew I was an orphan.  It was only after "Mom" died and I was going through her things that I discovered the gruesome truth.  My real baby book was filled with articles and pictures of my home burning with my family inside, obituaries and half of a picture.  It was of me sitting in the lap of a young woman I couldn't remember or see.  On the back was written "-tle mother"  She was supposed to love me; love us, but she didn't. From what I gathered in the reports, no body was truly recognizable. They had speculated on what had happened and why. They guessed that my mom had killed everyone before drenching them in gas and lighting up. Only a young male, female and small boy were recovered. The tragedy came like a punch in the chest. I was an impostor in this family that gave me their name and needed to know what happened. I became obsessed with finding the missing woman in the photo.

I started as the police had,  speaking with old friends and what was left of her, no our, family. I followed the path of her life from hometown, where an emotionally and physically harsh alcoholic father made the decision to go to college for her seem like a vacation. I tracked her to her wedding.  She married my father and dropped out when my sister came along.  They stayed together, making the best of it and learning to ltolerate (love?) each other.  My father, by accounts could be a little rough around the edges; careless and sneaky.  Rumor had it that he had a wandering eye and an equally busy pair of trousers.  In my mind, it had been revenge that drove my mother to do it, but why us? Her children? It was what drove me  to find her; becoming a nomad. I travelled to places she would have known in the hopes of coming across her or someone who had seen her.  I had come very close a couple of times in Oregon and Washington.  And here I was in Iowa working in an office as a data analysis manager for the last year and a half.  I was getting closer. I could feel it.

"That's pretty raw and twisted." Megan said into her wine glass.  She took a slug, smacker her lips and tucked her feet into the side of the overstuffed chair.  Meg was the only person I shared this story with.  We are office mates and partners in  crime, playing practical jokes on each other and finding the same things funny.  We have become close and I do need that.  I am very lonely and alone. She watches out for me.

"What do you think you'll get out of finding her?"

"Answers." I look at her incredulously.

"What does that change?"

"Everything Meg. How can you be so dumb?"

"I'm not dumb.  I just don't understand why you are looking."

"She murdered my family. I am alone in this world because of her and I want her to tell me why."

"Melodrama."

"I shouldn't have told you." I pouted almost ashamed of the scrapbook and notes laying on the table. My torn headless photo curled sheepishly at the top of the pile I'd just shown her.

"Andy, I am glad you did.  I am flattered, but you are wasting your life on this witch hunt. Hazel was your mom. She raised, loved, taught and cared about you.  You are not this woman's son, but Hazel's. Your mother is dead."

I drank from my glass and sulked. "I'm tired." I said flatly.

She drained her glass and plunked it down. "Don't be such a baby. Your mother is dead. Live your life. I don't know what else to say so I will take my unwanted self home."

"You can crash here if you want. Couch is free as always." I twisted my wine glass thoughtfully.

She stood and kissed the top of my head.  "I've done enough damage tonight." and jingling her keys, she opened the door. "Tomorrow, we'll work on Donna some more." she tossed lightly over her shoulder.

"Tomorrow. See ya." and she left.

Donna was the newbie in the office. She was a little older and with the sketchy past she had provided to HR ( I had Meg check her file.. I know. I KNOW.) she had popped up on my radar. I had tried to get her to talk to me but that had accomplished nothing.  She was vague about where she was from, what her family was like or if she even had one. She was a loner in the office.  No one really knew anything. So Meg and I went hunting and loosely pinned a "Mom" badge on Donna.

The next morning, I hovered as Meg brought her usual two cups of coffee and breakfast over to Donna's desk.  My ears were on high alert.

"Sooooo Donna." she sighed as she split the food up. "Anything exciting last night?"

The woman shrugged and sighed. "No. Not really." her tone was polite but a little tight, agitated but Meg pretended not to notice. I wondered how close we were to a harrassment claim.

"Eh me neither. My mom called and said she was feeling low. Funny how when we were little we used to dream of getting away so we wouldn't have to check in and now if a week goes by without a call..."

Donna toyed with the cup. "Yeah." she said absently.

"Do you do that? Call your kids? check up on em?"

Donna shrugged again. "Not really."

Meg perked up. "Aww ~ too bad. Miss em?"

"Don't really have any contact with them.  Or any of my family."

"Far away?"

"You could say that."

I almost shot coffee through my nose.  I ducked behind meg's cubbie and tried to catch my breath.

Meg waited but Donna didn't elaborate.  "So you just call on their birthdays? How many do you have?"

The tension mounted.  "Three. I had three kids."

My knees went weak.

"Wow. You're a busy mom."

Donna said nothing.

"Are they close by?"

I held my breath.

"No."

"Do you get to see them much?"

"Never." Donna fidgeted.

My fists clenched. My teeth began to grind.

"Why not?"

Donna laid her hands flatly on the table.  "Because."

I found myself leaning against the cubical wall. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty.

Meg drank from her cup and looked at Donna; scrutinizing, capturing every movement.  "Are they with their Dad?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Not a good split?"

"You could say that. but it was complete. It had to be."

I almost screamed and scaled the top of the wall. "JUST SAY IT!" I wanted to shout.

"Sorry to hear that." Meg said through a bite of muffin.

"Well, I have things to do." Donna said pushing away.  She stood and walked by me.  I jumped up like a jack-in-the-box and spilled what was left of my coffee on her shirt.

"Augh!" she leapt back and began wiping.  I reached for her with napkins.  She glowered at me and roughly took them from my hand. "Don't." she snapped and looking over her shoulder she began to trudge toward the Ladies room, slowly shaking her head. I heard her mumble something that sounded like "ducking Mormon."

I slid in to the seat Donna had occupied and grabbed Meg's hand. I squeezed and tried to speak.  Tears were welling up.  I panted as if I had been running for my life.

"It's her."

"Andy. Wait. Those are all very vague answers."

"It's her. You found her. Meg. Thank you."

"Andy wait. You might be..."

I didn't hear her. I grabbed my coat and bolted from the office.  The first thing I did was to dash home and grab my scrapbook.  I sat and went over it all. Again. I added her face and name to the story. I filled in my life with Donna.  I held my torn photo and imagined me sitting in her lap.

"Mom." I said quietly. "I want to talk to you."

I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing, rehearsing what I would say. I would show her the destruction. I was going to tell her how hard my life had become. I would demand that she tell me her side of the story.  I would hug her and tell her I loved her. I would tell her I was glad she didn't hurt me and left me alive. I got my keys and drove to her house. The sun was yawning and heading to bed.

She met me at the door and looked passed me as if there would be reporters, police or ghosts all around me.  "Andrew? Hello. What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with you Donna."

"Well, can't it wait until work?"

"No. I'm sorry.  May I come in?"

"Well I don't know.." She fidgeted nervously with the top of her collar.  I pushed passed her and sat down at a small table.  I began to unpack our lives.

"Andrew? what are you doing? What is all this?" she came and leaned over me.

"This is you.  What you've done. And I am all that's left." Just like that.  Not all the flowery gobbledygook. No grandstanding or big speeches.  I just blurted it out.  I felt a light tingle in my chest.  I began to show her the articles, everything. I spoke gently to her.  "You did this. You disappeared. You. you. you." I was filling in our lives, mixing them together.

She stood very still and listened.  In the back of my mind, I wondered if she would finish the job shes started all those years ago. I hadn't thought of it at first.  She had killed once. What would stop her? She could feel cornered, trapped and just...

"Andrew." she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

I stood and wrapped my arms around her, tears and sobs of relief and happiness bubbling out in choking wet emotion

. "I'm here to say it's okay. I found you. I won't let you go. We'll be all right."

"No Andrew. I am really sorry. I'm not who you think I am." She backed up but held my hands.

"You don't have to pretend anymore. When you talked with Meg and I overheard it, I knew. I felt it. Your three kids, the bad split with their dad, never seeing them..."

"And all of this is true.  But I am under a court order not to see them until I get my life straightened out. They were taken from me because of my addiction to drugs." She hung her head and sniffed.  "I'm working on it. I need to get my life back. "

My jaw dropped.  my gut burned.  My face flushed and I felt bile march decidedly up my throat.
At that precise moment the door burst open.  Meg raced in and yanked us apart.  She shoved Donna to the floor and jumped atop her. She wrapped her hands around her neck and began to beat her head on the floor.  At first I heard a growl, low and guttural but then Meg began to chant and hiss at Donna. "No. You. Can. Not.Be. His. Mother."

Donna struggled and kicked.  I stood there watching, horrified while Meg kept pounding.  I was numb.  What was she doing?  Donna stopped fighting and went limp.  I prayed she had passed out until I I saw the blue around her lips.

Meg stood and wiped her forehead with her sleeve.  "Whoops." she huffed and covered a nervous laugh.

"Meg. Is she dead?

"I think so."

"I'll call the police."

She whirled on me, taking an angry step forward.  "No you will not. You will help me. I helped you. Now you help me."

I felt my mouth go dry. "No Meg. This is..."

"What we're going to do." she pulled a blanket from the bed and began to wrap Donna up.  "We'll take her out. We'll go to my house and take care of it from there."

I couldn't understand what I was hearing.

She gazed at my scrapbook. "So what did she tell you? That she was your Mother and how she loved you and wowee- golly-gee-whiz, couldn't you forgive her?" her tone was dry and unkind.  It scraped at my ears and annoyed me.

"No. Nothing like that."

" I know. So did you show her your little box of horrors?"

I shook my head and toed the carpet. She rolled the woman over and motioned to me.  I did what she said.  She told me to grab Donna's feet.  We hauled her out in to the night without being noticed.  Meg put her in the trunk of her own car and told me to follow her back to her house. She drove my car. I drove Donna's.  I almost drove to the police station but I didn't know how to explain it; the murder,the dead body in the trunk of the car I was driving. How I held a box filled with a macabre collection.  I felt cloudy.  I didn't understand what was happening. We arrived at her home and I followed her in.  She poured drinks and handed me one.

"Down the hatch" she coughed and poured another.

I sipped and stared at her.

"Don't look at me that way. "

"She's not my mother." I said. "You killed someone innocent."

Meg shrugged. " I know. Your mother is dead."

I shook my head. "What are you doing Meg?"

She took another belt. "Ohhh Andy.." She smiled wickedly. "Have a seat. I need to pee." she wandered down the hall.  I paced and looked around.  I had been here countless times but now I was a stranger in a strange place.  I looked at pictures and saw no one I knew. I held a picture of the two of us taken at an amusement park. It was one of those  machine photos taken at the precise drop of a coaster.  We were both screaming and wide eyed.  I felt that way now.  A scrap feel from the frame.  It was a torn photo.  The head of a young woman; Meg.  On the back was written "Proud Sister, lit..."
but the rest was on the other half of the photo.  The one I carried.

Meg cleared her throat and stared at me. She approached, filled my glass and motioned to the couch. "Sit down little brother. I have something to tell you about your life."

I wanted to run. I needed to scream. I looked quickly at the door then back at the couch. To the police? Or to the answers I had convinced myself I desperately needed.

I was torn.


I really like this one. I enjoyed the twist and am proud of it. I also like that it isn't clear cut on the ending.  I felt sorry for Andy on so many levels; so lost. Be careful what you ask for becuase you just might get it.  I'm glad we got to hang out for a while. I hope you liked it.  Let me know what you thought. Thanks for stopping by.