Please give yor opinionn

Eviil Geniuous · 30-04-2001 9:51pm #1

If anybody could take the tiime to read thiis, and give a comment it would please me indeed. It is long, but be patiient.

12TH APRIL 1976-

The entire day was spent in mothers house, “The Mansion”; although being there again after almost 8 years made me wonder where I got that name for it in the first place.
Almost 39 years ago I was born in this very place. Mother had really let the place go in her old age; she’s dead nearly 6 weeks now, but I can still smell the lingering traces of her “White Lavender” perfume which she wore so often.
The police business finished up around 3 days ago, and when I received the phone call I drove straight here. The Kent countryside is as pleasant as ever, and the garden at the back of the house is remarkably well kept. I wonder if Mother had a gardener?
Father will be arriving tomorrow; I am dreading seeing him again after all these years… It must be around 18…God, I wonder what he will look like.

14th APRIL 1976-

Father arrived yesterday morning, he is an old, old man now, I would hardly recognise him. We greeted one another with a formal handshake; but when I saw his bottom lip quiver and he approached to embrace me, I quickly busied myself by fiddling with the door knob then swiftly moved on into the kitchen while asking if he would like some tea.
After some standing alone in the hall, he eventually came into the kitchen. I placed his tea on the table and he sat and took a mouthful. Then he took out a small bottle of what I assume was brandy, and poured a generous helping into his cup. So he is still on the devil drink! I never really expected anything different of him anyway.
I just ignored the fact that he had done anything, pretended I didn’t notice (as Mother always told me to), and we carried on with a stupid mundane conversation about his sordid old life where I had to continually nod and smile and pretended I wanted to hear more; when all I wanted to do was to go up and explore Mothers things.

I drove to the town to buy some groceries, and by the time I got back it was getting dark. Father told me that he had been here with the police 3 weeks ago, and how there was nothing very interesting in Mothers rooms. I felt like telling the ignorant ******* to shut his damned old face; how could he appreciate anything of Mothers, he was never around to remember much of it anyway!
Today, I spent most of my time sitting alone in Mothers room and remembering her.
Father seemed to have less interest, every few hours I would look out the window and he would still be walking around looking at the flowers. He must have been too embarrassed to interrupt me, but I liked the fact that he was uncomfortable and so I stayed sitting in the room.
My thought varied, but it was mostly about the two of us; me and Mother. He was never a big part in either of our lives, and when he left us when I was 18, Mother and I laughed and rejoiced; that alcoholic deserved no tears…

This evening, when I came down to the kitchen, Father told me how they drew no conclusions from their investigations as of yet. I knew it, why would anyone do anything to hurt Mother? She was an angel. Father asked me about Emma’s grave, had anyone tended to it? I told him that I hadn’t seen it in over 20 years and he seemed saddened.
Emma was my little sister, she died in ’53 when I was just 16, she was just 6 years old. Father started drinking soon after her death; he was the one that found her, she had been raped and her neck was snapped, she had been left in a river about 2 miles away.
I did miss Emma, but I still had Mother, and as she always told me, it was better with just the two of us, we could survive anything.

17TH APRIL –

Father is such an annoyance! By day he wanders about the house blathering about Emma and Mother and trying to start a conversation with me. He still wanders off into the garden, filling his cup with whatever is in his hipflask whenever he thinks I’m not looking.
He is beginning to repulse me, he is a fat oaf, I wish he would just disappear and let me be alone with Mothers memories; it’s almost as if he is tainting them with his unwanted presence.

18TH APRIL-

This evening father stumbled in from town blind drunk and in tears; I heard him go into the kitchen looking for me, luckily I was in Mothers room and I quickly climbed under the sheets of her bed and pretended to be asleep. I heard him come snivelling and sobbing up the stairs calling my name but I kept my eyes shut…
And then the strangest thing happened.
I heard him shuffle toward the bedroom door, then he opened it and stood (watching me?!) for at least two minutes; the only sound interrupting the silence was his broken sobs, eventually he stumbled over to my bedside and sat beside me.
I continued my feigned sleeping position, although the reek of booze was almost unbearable. He sat for around a minute; he was far too close for my liking, if he had touched me with his stinking grimy hands I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from getting up and screaming in his face…
But he didn’t; the ignorant old filthbag just sobbed the words “I’m sorry son, I had to do it…” then left.
I could hardly stop myself from lashing out; why did he “have to” leave us?! He was always full of excuses; and he is still as pathetic and stupid as he was 18 years ago!!
Luckily enough, he went to bed over an hour ago, now at least I can get some sleep.

19TH APRIL-

I woke to find Father gone, and a rather shocking note.
Basically, Father told me how he had always suspected Mother of being involved in Emma’s death. Recently he had found some sort of proof, he continues how he is “so sorry it had to end this way, but I did what I knew was right; after all, no court in the land is going to punish someone that old…”.
I read the note 4 times because I could not believe what I was interpreting, Did that filthy ******* kill Mother??!
My dear sweet Mother, it was always just the two of us…
I really don’t know what to do.
I need to talk to Father.

21ST APRIL-

I waited in all day yesterday, but there was no calls or signs or Father.
I woke up this morning and around 8am and could hear someone down in the kitchen, they left once they heard me getting out of bed, and I ran to the window but saw nothing.
The rest of the day was spent trying on Mothers dresses and perfumes.

22ND APRIL-

Finally I have sorted the ******* out!
Around 11am today, I was in Mothers room trying on her underwear. I decided to wear her wedding dress for a while, and just after I put it on, I heard someone coming in downstairs. I knew Father had the only other key…
I rushed down the stairs and it was him. When he saw me he froze; I don’t think he could comprehend why I was wearing Mothers things.
I knew what she wanted me to do.
I ran at him and tried to tackle him; but my skimpish frame was outmatched by his fat bulk and instead he caught me and pinned me to the ground. I started screaming. Twisting and turning and scratching and biting until I finally got my arms free and jammed my thumb at least an inch into his left eye. He screamed and fell back as blood pumped steadily down his fat cheeks.
I seized the moment and pounced on top of him, pinning his arms to the floor with my knees.
I grabbed his head firmly with both hands and methodically cracked it off the marble floor until his struggle ceased.
He was still breathing; huge heaving pants, his right eye flashed around the room as his left blinked continuously, his eyelashes flicking miniature fountains of blood which landed in specks on the floor and on his face. At once I was reminded of the similar panicked look on Emma’s face all those years ago.
My only words to him; quite beautiful words in my opinion, were “I’m going to rape your dead mouth just like I did to little Emma’s”.
Once he heard this, his bloodied face dropped, I have never seen one man look so utterly defeated; I smiled as I knew that I had won, I had crushed him, I had destroyed this man.

He had started coughing up blood all over his face and neck, he looked up at me pathetically with his one eye, I stood up off him and observed him dying.
He just lay on the white marble, panting slowly and staring at me.
I brought down my bare foot on his face; I couldn’t contain my laughter as I heard his nose snap and I could also see that I had knocked at least three teeth out of place.
I sat on him again, and for the final time, smashed his bloody head against the marble, a saturated thud as his skull collided with the floor.
I left him lying there, in an ever expanding ocean of blood, as I climbed the stairs to Mothers room; where we could finally be together again.