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Never Let Her Go
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That was... wow. It was so artfully crafted and emotional.
Angie wrote: "That was... wow. It was so artfully crafted and emotional."Thanks! ^w^
I added more details to this, but there's no enough room to repost it in a single post. So I'll be reposting it here. :)
“Mommy?”I smile down at the curious child. Her blue eyes are alight. Her hand is warm in mine. “Yes Candace? What is it?”
She trails behind me, struggling to keep up. One step at a time. Don’t trip. “…Where are we going?” she asks after a moment.
“Home.”
“Why?” Confusion dances in her beautiful eyes. “I thought we were going shopping.”
“We need to eat lunch, sweetie.”
She frowns. “Can’t we eat at that nice café?”
I laugh. Tighten my grip. “Mommy has something very special planned for lunch today.”
“Because Grandpa is coming over?”
“Yes.”
She smiles cutely, the gap between her teeth as clear as day. “Yay!”
We’re at the door now. I lead her inside. Go to the kitchen. “Because it’s a surprise, you’re not allowed to look,” I tell her. “So close your eyes, okay Candace?”
She nods eagerly, excited to see what the surprise is. She covers her eyes with both hands. Peeks between her fingers.
“No peeking!” I scold.
She giggles and closes her fingers again.
I reach for the knife on the counter. Examine it. Bring it over to the happy girl’s neck.
She feels the icy bite of the blade. Her smile fades, and concern settles in. “Mommy? What are you doing?”
I don’t answer. I just pull her close with my free hand. Press her to my bosom. “Mommy loves you, Candace. She loves you so very, very much.”
She begins to struggle against my grip. “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice faint and muffled, but vaguely scared.
I have to keep smile. My lips hurt now. But if I don’t smile, she’ll be scared. Grin harder. Wider.
They won’t take her away from me.
Never.
I’ll never let her go.
“Mommy?”
No more words. Just slice with the blade. Make the crimson slit, let the blood stream. Some of it arches, drenching my shirt. The rest of it splatters onto my shoes and pools across the kitchen floor. Hear her scream. Pay no attention to the tears now streaming down my face. Keep smiling. I have to keep smiling.
My baby. Mine. Nobody else can have her. I won’t let them take her away from me.
“MOMMY!”
Poor thing is scared. Comfort her. “It’s okay, darling. Everything is going to be okay.”
“St-Stop…. STOP IT!”
Don’t yell at me! I’m your mother. I know what’s best. “You’re mine, Candace,” I remind her.
Sobs shake my precious baby girl. “Mommy, please…!”
Hum the lullaby. Dig the blade in deeper and earn more red. Feel her thrash, hold her steady. Feel her finally stop moving, finally be still and silent, go limp. Whisper, “I love you, Candace.”
Bring the knife out of the neck. Pick her up – careful! careful! – and lay her along the counter. Don’t let the arm dangle! Bring it up to the counter, hold it in place, and begin to chop.
* * *
“Tantalus was the son of Zeus and was the king of Sipylos. He was uniquely favored among mortals since he was invited to share the food of the gods. However, he abused the guest-host relationship and was punished by being "tantalized" with hunger and thirst in Tartarus: he was immersed up to his neck in water, but when he bent to drink, it all drained away; luscious fruit hung on trees above him, but when he reached for it the winds blew the branches beyond his reach.
There are differing stories about what Tantalus' crime was. One account says that he tried to share the divine ambrosia with other mortals, and thus aroused the ire of the gods. A more famous account says that he invited the gods to a banquet and served them the dismembered body of his own son, Pelops; when the gods discovered the trick, they punished Tantalus and restored Pelops to life, replacing with ivory a part of the shoulder which had been eaten by Demeter.”
(Taken from Encyclopedia Mythica, online source.)
* * *
Hands white as snow. Beautiful locks of luxurious hair that is as golden as the sun when it raises high in the eastern sky. Eyes blue doors that are opened wide as if to show me a glimpse into her soul. And then there’s the scent of death of course; there’s always the scent. It’s a soothing sort of smell, like grave soil and iron. It helps add on to the memory of our last goodbye.
I smile at the vision of her lying there, so beautiful in her shimmering crimson pool of tears and acceptance. Yet those last words of hers still prod at me with their iron hot accusations and their heart-piercing judgments.
“Why Mommy?!” she had cried to me, voice catching in that adorable way that I loved. “Why? It hurts Mommy! It hurts! Why do you hate me Mommy?! Mommy!”
Oh my sweet little Candace, I wanted to croon, my darling little baby. I didn’t do this for hatred. Mommy loves you sweetie. That’s the reason I pulled that knife through the arteries of your pretty little neck. That’s why I ever so gently cut the veins in your tiny wrists. I did it carefully, this job of murdering you. And I did it because I love you.
But I never told you that, because the flesh must be cut right away after the blood has been drained, or it will become stale and hard. And nobody wants to eat meat like that, certainly not Father. That’s why I smile and smile until my lips hurt and I feel like they may burst.
I was so very, very careful with you Candace. And do you know what?
You were delicious.
* * *
I stare up at the white ceiling, and then roll my eyes downwards to look at the padded floor. I’m bored again. I get bored here a lot. I look from wall to wall until my head is turning round and round and I get dizzy. But I’m still bored, so I start trying to lick the tip of my nose. No good; I can’t reach. I start to hum to myself, but I already know that I can’t hold a tune so I get tired of that really easily. Now I start to rock back and forth, pale blonde hair dangling in front of my face like a sheet, and thinking of random topics like hands.
I like hands. People can’t do anything without hands. Hands are good, and they taste good too. Candace’s hands were scrumptious. But I can’t even see my hands, because they’re tied behind me in this white straightjacket. I think they’re lonely back there. They must be, because I am lonely too.
I have a lot of time to myself in this white padded cell of mine. In fact, there’s never been anyone to visit me; not even one. It’s lonely. But I don’t need people; I have Candace’s blood coursing through my body. That’s enough to keep me going. I’ve never been very social anyways.
The man in the lab-coat, although lots of men are dressed in those here, told me that I would spend a few years here to think about what I’ve done. “To think about what a horrible mother I was for doing something so brutal to my own flesh and blood” was what he really wanted me to do.
But I don’t think about that at all. Why should I? I never intended to torture my sweet little Candace; it was an act of love.
“Bored.”
Oh, did I say that out loud? I glance at the camera high up on the wall, and then at the door, but there’s no change.
“Bored.” I repeat, rocking back and forth again while I sweep my stone grey eyes across the room and then roll them up so if anybody was looking in all they would see was the whites of my eyes. “Bored. Boooooooo-red. Borrrrrrrrrr-ed. Bor-eeeeeeeed.” It’s an interesting word; it makes my tongue tingle no matter how I say it.
I puzzle over this a while longer, and then bite down on the tip of my tongue, my teeth gnashing into my bottom lip as well. Blood, beautiful and crystalline, runs down my chin in deliciously iron-tasting rivulets by the time men in long lab-coats burst in and drag me out into the hall. They try to shove something in my mouth though, and I panic. “Gih abay um eh!” I shriek, fending them off through a mouthful of my own blood. Two of the men in lab-coats grab a hold of me and pin me back, and another one tries to put the rubber piece in my mouth. I just dig my teeth in harder and refuse to open.
One of them says something to the other about sedating me, but before they can do anything of the sort I suddenly let my knees give out. While they fumble for me, I lunge to the side and leap for the, luckily enough, opening door. Another man who looked exactly the same as the other two lets out a shout of surprise as I shove past him. Behind me, I can hear their shouts of protest and the sound of heavy footfalls, but I just keep pounding the ground and chewing on the tip of my raw and bloody tongue.
I hesitate though, once I push my way through another crowd of doctors and guards. I hesitate and stare in surprise at the man who stands at the end of the long hallway.
It’s my father.
* * *
He looks a lot older since I last saw him. I just stare at this brown-haired man who has eyes that look just as haunted as Candace’s did before I carved her eyes out. The blood is running down my chin still, only now some of it is pouring back down my throat as well. Father is arguing with someone at the counter, but turns when I choke on the strong metallic taste. “Leah!” he exclaims, voice sliding into the first high-pitched octave of horror, just like it had before, when I had presented him with the honor of taking a taste of Candace’s cold and bloodied flesh.
I smile at him, my mouth seeming to crack against the pull of my dry lips. By the horror that is reflected in his eyes, perfect mirrors of my own despite their strong revulsion, I can tell that he has already noticed the dark red of my blood-stained teeth. “Hello Father,” I gurgle, choking and gagging once again as more globs of blood run down my throat. “I was just looking for you. Why did you leave me here? Why did you leave us here? Candace doesn’t like it in the room with the white walls. She wants out.”
But he’s just staring at me with a face as pale as Candace’s had been.
I try again, this time shimmying in place as I did. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been so long! How long do you suppose it’s been since you called the men with the black van and let them drive me away to be locked up for the rest of my life? A year? Two years? Certainly no more than that.” I pause to gag on the strong flavor of my blood mixed with my daughter’s as the straightjacket slides to the ground. Then I narrow my eyes and put on my stern voice. “Now don’t be rude Candace,” I scold, smacking myself on the wrist. “Say hello to your Grandfather. Sorry Mama. Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your Grandpa! I’m sorry Grandpa. There you go; see, that wasn’t so hard now, was it? Yes mother. That’s a good girl.” I smile at my father again, eyes wide.
The receptionist at the desk has already gone running for the phone, as my father takes a hesitant step towards the door. Seeing the movement, something snaps inside of me. “Hey!” I spit, reaching over and grabbing a pen off of the counter. I jab my finger onto the little button at the end and point it at his throat. “Where do you think you’re going?! Do you think it was easy, getting out just so that I could see you again?! Well it wasn’t! It was very hard! And you’re still ungrateful, only thinking of going out the door when you haven’t seen your only child in over a year! How dare you?!”
The phone call has finally gone through. Or maybe the men from before have finally caught up to me. Either way, two lab-coat clad men grab me from behind. I struggle, my left arm pinned while my other one swings two and fro with the pen. I draw a long line along one of the arms of the men as I’m struggling. Then I scribble all over the suit of the other one. But my last attempt to get away ends with me jabbing the end of my weapon into the eye on the first man. Blood squirts my face, getting in my hair and my open mouth, as he howls in pain.
The lab-coated men were usually so composed, so it was funny seeing him freak out like this. I began to giggle hysterically, arm dropping to the side as my eyes rolled up. Then I began screaming at my father again, trying to pull my right arm out of the grip of the man who was swearing profusely and holding his eye with the other hand. “Join Candace! Join her! I can’t take care of her on my own! Don’t you know how hard it is to raise a child on your own?! Join her! Join her so that you can help me protect her! She wants to see you! Come see her, Father! Come on! What are you so scared of?! Join her! Join her! Candace doesn’t want to be alone anymore!”
Tears are running down my face now; I can’t control them. They mix with the blood and run down my chin. Salt combines with the metal taste that overwhelms my senses. I gag again, and scream out again. “Daddy!” I shriek, struggling harder now than ever. “Daddy! Daddy! Don’t leave me here! I’m so lonely here! Please Daddy! Candace keeps disappearing. I can’t find her sometimes! Why isn’t she always here?! I killed her so that we would always be together! That’s why I tore and swallowed every strip of pale flesh! That’s why I drank every drop of crimson blood! But she’s never here! We’ll talk and then she’ll leave! Why does she keep leaving me?! Doesn’t she love me?! Don’t you love me?!”
The men in lab-coats drag me back to the other hallway, the one that leads to my cell. “Daddy!” I shriek. “Daddy! Don’t let them do this! I don’t wanna be alone! Please Daddy, please! Please Daddy! Candace!”
But neither of them says a word as the door clicks shut and I’m immersed once again in my lonely white world. I’m alone again to cry out against the agony that is piercing my heart. But it still doesn’t go away. No matter what I do, Candace won’t come back. No matter what I do, my father won’t stay by my side. No matter what I do. I’ve always been alone, stuck between insanity and reality.
I know what I’ve done in moments such as this. That’s what makes my heart scream out for mercy, please god somebody have mercy! But it fades over time, leaving me to curl up in one corner of the room and talk to my deceased daughter in hushed tones.
No, I’m not insane. I just didn’t want to let her go and be alone again.
I like the part you added. It adds some more dimension to your story.But I do have one question. Is her name Emily or Candace?
Oh no, did I forget to change it??? D:Her name was originally Emily, but I changed it to Candace because when I first wrote this it was for a class, and there was someone in the class named Emily.
Was it just the one line? Hopefully I've fixed it now. ^_^;;
I smile at the vision of her lying there, so beautiful in her shimmering crimson pool of tears and acceptance. Yet those last words of hers still prod at me with their iron hot accusations and their heart-piercing judgments.
“Why Mommy?!” she had cried to me, voice catching in that adorable way that I loved. “Why? It hurts Mommy! It hurts! Why do you hate me Mommy?! Mommy!”
Oh my sweet little Candace, I wanted to croon, my darling little baby. I didn’t do this for hatred. Mommy loves you sweetie. That’s the reason I pulled that knife through the arteries of your pretty little neck. That’s why I ever so gently cut the veins in your tiny wrists. I did it carefully, this job of murdering you. And I did it because I love you.
But I never told you that, because the flesh must be cut right away after the blood has been drained, or it will become stale and hard. And nobody wants to eat meat like that, certainly not Father. That’s why I smile and smile until my lips hurt and I feel like they may burst.
I was so very, very careful with you Candace. And do you know what?
You were delicious.
* * *
I stare up at the white ceiling, and then roll my eyes downwards to look at the padded floor. I’m bored again. I get bored here a lot. I look from wall to wall until my head is turning round and round and I get dizzy. But I’m still bored, so I start trying to lick the tip of my nose. No good; I can’t reach. I start to hum to myself, but I already know that I can’t hold a tune so I get tired of that really easily. Now I start to rock back and forth, pale blonde hair dangling in front of my face like a sheet, and thinking of random topics like hands.
I like hands. People can’t do anything without hands. Hands are good, and they taste good too. Candace’s hands were scrumptious. But I can’t even see my hands, because they’re tied behind me in this white straightjacket. I think they’re lonely back there. They must be, because I am lonely too.
I have a lot of time to myself in this white padded cell of mine. In fact, there’s never been anyone to visit me; not even one. It’s lonely. But I don’t need people; I have Candace’s blood coursing through my body. That’s enough to keep me going. I’ve never been very social anyways.
The man in the lab-coat, although lots of men are dressed in those here, told me that I would spend a few years here to think about what I’ve done. “To think about what a horrible mother I was for doing something so brutal to my own flesh and blood” was what he really wanted me to do.
But I don’t think about that at all. Why should I? I never intended to torture my sweet little Candace; it was an act of love.
“Bored.”
Oh, did I say that out loud? I glance at the camera high up on the wall, and then at the door, but there’s no change.
“Bored.” I repeat, rocking back and forth again while I sweep my stone grey eyes across the room and then roll them up so if anybody was looking in all they would see was the whites of my eyes. “Bored. Boooooooo-red. Borrrrrrrrrr-ed. Bor-eeeeeeeed.” It’s an interesting word; it makes my tongue tingle no matter how I say it.
I puzzle over this a while longer, and then bite down on the tip of my tongue, my teeth gnashing into my bottom lip as well. Blood, beautiful and crystalline, runs down my chin in deliciously iron-tasting rivulets by the time men in long lab-coats burst in and drag me out into the hall. They try to shove something in my mouth though, and I panic. “Gih abay um eh!” I shriek, fending them off through a mouthful of my own blood. Two of the men in lab-coats grab a hold of me and pin me back, and another one tries to put the rubber piece in my mouth. I just dig my teeth in harder and refuse to open.
One of them says something to the other about sedating me, but before they can do anything of the sort I suddenly let my knees give out. While they fumble for me, I lunge to the side and leap for the, luckily enough, opening door. Another man who looked exactly the same as the other two lets out a shout of surprise as I shove past him. Behind me, I can hear their shouts of protest and the sound of heavy footfalls, but I just keep pounding the ground and chewing on the tip of my raw and bloody tongue.
I hesitate though, once I push my way through another crowd of doctors and guards. I hesitate and stare in surprise at the man who stands at the end of the long hallway.
It’s my father.
* * *
He looks a lot older since I last saw him. I just stare at this brown-haired man who has eyes that look just as haunted as Candace’s did before I carved her eyes out. The blood is running down my chin still, only now some of it is pouring back down my throat as well.
Father is arguing with someone at the counter, but turns when I choke on the strong metallic taste. “Leah!” he exclaims, voice sliding into the first high-pitched octave of horror, just like it had before, when I had presented him with the honor of taking a taste of Candace’s cold and bloodied flesh.
I smile at him, my mouth seeming to crack against the pull of my dry lips. By the horror that is reflected in his eyes, perfect mirrors of my own despite their strong revulsion, I can tell that he has already noticed the dark red of my blood-stained teeth. “Hello Father,” I gurgle, choking and gagging once again as more globs of blood run down my throat. “I was just looking for you. Why did you leave me here? Why did you leave us here? Candace doesn’t like it in the room with the white walls. She wants out.”
But he’s just staring at me with a face as pale as Candace’s had been.
I try again, this time shimmying in place as I did. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been so long! How long do you suppose it’s been since you called the men with the black van and let them drive me away to be locked up for the rest of my life? A year? Two years? Certainly no more than that.” I pause to gag on the strong flavor of my blood mixed with my daughter’s as the straightjacket slides to the ground. Then I narrow my eyes and put on my stern voice. “Now don’t be rude Candace,” I scold, smacking myself on the wrist. “Say hello to your Grandfather. Sorry Mama. Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your Grandpa! I’m sorry Grandpa. There you go; see, that wasn’t so hard now, was it? Yes mother. That’s a good girl.” I smile at my father again, eyes wide.
The receptionist at the desk has already gone running for the phone, as my father takes a hesitant step towards the door. Seeing the movement, something snaps inside of me. “Hey!” I spit, reaching over and grabbing a pen off of the counter. I jab my finger onto the little button at the end and point it at his throat. “Where do you think you’re going?! Do you think it was easy, getting out just so that I could see you again?! Well it wasn’t! It was very hard! And you’re still ungrateful, only thinking of going out the door when you haven’t seen your only child in over a year! How dare you?!”
The phone call has finally gone through. Or maybe the men from before have finally caught up to me. Either way, two lab-coat clad men grab me from behind. I struggle, my left arm pinned while my other one swings two and fro with the pen. I draw a long line along one of the arms of the men as I’m struggling. Then I scribble all over the suit of the other one. But my last attempt to get away ends with me jabbing the end of my weapon into the eye on the first man. Blood squirts my face, getting in my hair and my open mouth, as he howls in pain.
The lab-coated men were usually so composed, so it was funny seeing him freak out like this. I began to giggle hysterically, arm dropping to the side as my eyes rolled up. Then I began screaming at my father again, trying to pull my right arm out of the grip of the man who was swearing profusely and holding his eye with the other hand. “Join Candace! Join her! I can’t take care of her on my own! Don’t you know how hard it is to raise a child on your own?! Join her! Join her so that you can help me protect her! She wants to see you! Come see her, Father! Come on! What are you so scared of?! Join her! Join her! Candace doesn’t want to be alone anymore!”
Tears are running down my face now; I can’t control them. They mix with the blood and run down my chin. Salt combines with the metal taste that overwhelms my senses. I gag again, and scream out again. “Daddy!” I shriek, struggling harder now than ever. “Daddy! Daddy! Don’t leave me here! I’m so lonely here! Please Daddy! Candace keeps disappearing. I can’t find her sometimes! Why isn’t she always here?! I killed her so that we would always be together! That’s why I tore and swallowed every strip of pale flesh! That’s why I drank every drop of crimson blood! But she’s never here! We’ll talk and then she’ll leave! Why does she keep leaving me?! Doesn’t she love me?! Don’t you love me?!”
The men in lab-coats drag me back to the other hallway, the one that leads to my cell. “Daddy!” I shriek. “Daddy! Don’t let them do this! I don’t wanna be alone! Please Daddy, please! Please Daddy! Candace!”
But neither of them says a word as the door clicks shut and I’m immersed once again in my lonely white world. I’m alone again to cry out against the agony that is piercing my heart. But it still doesn’t go away. No matter what I do, Candace won’t come back. No matter what I do, my father won’t stay by my side. No matter what I do. I’ve always been alone, stuck between insanity and reality.
I know what I’ve done in moments such as this. That’s what makes my heart scream out for mercy, please god somebody have mercy! But it fades over time, leaving me to curl up in one corner of the room and talk to my deceased daughter in hushed tones.
No, I’m not insane. I just didn’t want to let her go and be alone again.