Short Fiction Blog

The next few weeks passed quickly. Andrew showed Susan all his favorite hunting grounds and she found that she was able to take people she didn’t know. She did share with Andrew that there wasn’t as much satisfaction in the takings though.

“Sometimes you just have to eat, Susan,” Andrew replied. “It really is that basic.”

“Besides,” he added. “How many enemies can one person make? You aren’t always going to be seeking revenge on someone.”

They were heading out one night when Susan received a phone call. Hearing her cell phone ring startled her so that she jumped. Andrew steadied her and asked who was calling.

She looked at the screen on the phone and stiffened, “My aunt,” she replied. “I haven’t talked to her in years. She’s probably calling to tell me about my father.”

When it rang a few more times, Andrew pressed, “You better answer it.”

“Hello,” Susan spoke into the phone.

Andrew saw her start to shake. Tears sprang to her eyes and she fell to the floor, crumbling into herself. The phone fell from her hand. Andrew tried to hold her, but Susan curled inward, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

“What is it,” Andrew implored. “Susan! Talk to me!”

She was unresponsive. He didn’t know what to do but try to comfort her. Lying on the floor, he took her into his arms as best he could and held on tight. Susan rocked back and forth, a low keen coming from her throat.

When the sound subsided, Andrew quietly inquired, “Susan? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I killed my mom,” she stated flatly, all emotion leeched from her voice.

“What are you talking about? We killed you father, not your mother. You aren’t making any sense,” Andrew replied.

“Aunt Joyce said that after Father’s death, Mom wasn’t the same. She said Mom was listless, staying home all the time with the drapes closed, not talking to anyone.” Shaking again, she continued, “She said yesterday she went to check on Mom because she hadn’t answered the phone for a few days. When she knocked, the door opened on its own. She, she…”

Her tears kept her from completing the sentence for a few moments. Composing herself, she finished, “Aunt Joyce found my mother in the kitchen. Her brains splattered all over the kitchen table.”

Andrew was shocked. He whispered, “But why?”

“In her note she said that she couldn’t live without love. She’d lost me years ago, and now Dad was gone too,” Susan told him. “I never even called. I knew she’d be devastated, and I didn’t even pick up the damn phone and call!”

“You couldn’t,” Andrew reassured. “If you had called she would have known you had something to do with it. Why didn’t she call you? I never did understand why you didn’t receive a call about his death.”

“When I left four years ago there was an awful scene. I tried to get her to come with me, but of course, she refused. I called her weak and stupid, among other things, for staying with him. She withered in front of my eyes, but I was relentless!” she yelled at Andrew. “I thought I knew everything!”

“All I knew was enough to kill her.”

Andrew looked into her eyes and saw nothing but pain. She stared at him, but he knew she wasn’t seeing him. He couldn’t imagine her pain. He did all that he could and held her.

Susan whispered against his chest, “I wanted to set her free of her bonds. I never dreamed in doing so she would unravel completely.”

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