Monday, May 13, 2013

May Monster Madness Day #3


Hiya Monsters!
I'm super excited to be taking part in the May Monster Madness hosted by the monsteriffic Author Annie Walls, Emma from Little Gothic Horrors and Ked from Something Wicked this Way Comes!
May Monster Madness is all about sharing the monsters we love and what better way for an author to do that than to purge the monsters that take up residence in our brain and demand to be written?
This week I'll (hopefully) be posting a few shorts and bits and pieces from the monster madness in my head, so stay tuned for more of my psychotic babbling!

 Seeing as yesterday was Mother's Day here in Australia I thought I'd write a short on what I believe to be one of more terrifying aspects of parenthood. 
You have a child, you love and nurture that child from the time of conception or adoption until the day either you, or they, die. This is supposed to be a given. The golden rule when it comes to motherhood is to love and cherish your babies, without exception and without condition. But what if the child you loved became someone you couldn't?



The Transplant

“Mommy, how come you never hug me anymore?” Her tiny voice carries through the bathroom door. It’s the same voice I've heard a thousand times, it belongs to the same little girl with dark eyes and blonde pigtails whose knees I kissed when they were bloody and crusted with gravel, whose forehead I tempered with a cool cloth when she was running a fever of one hundred and eight. She’s the same child I birthed in this very bathroom, two months early and in such a hurry to meet the world that she couldn't wait until I made it to the hospital. But she is not my child. She hasn't been my child since the transplant.
“Mommy,” she whispers through the tiny crack in the door. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
I pick myself up from the floor, clear my throat and swipe at the tears on my cheeks. My voice is strained and pitchy when I say, “Of course I do, honey.”
“Are you thinking about Daddy again?”
“No, honey. I’m not thinking anything at all, I promise.”
There’s a pause and it feels as though the whole room sucks in a sharp breath. Her voice is equally sharp and unforgiving, “You’re lying. Open the door, Mommy.”
“I’ll be out in just a minute.” I say quickly and throw the crumpled up tissue into the wastebasket as the door slams back on its hinges. I’d made certain to lock the door, but as with everything she touches the guts of the thing have been torn clean and the tiles are peppered with tiny fragments of splinted wood.
“You’re crying!” She accuses as her little body stalks towards me and her finger pokes me in the chest. “You know why he had to die. Why Jakey had to die, too, don’t you Mommy?”
“Yes, honey, of course.” I answer as if I’m on autopilot, but inside I’m screaming why couldn't it be her? Why did god take away my boys and leave me all alone in this great big house with a monster who wears my daughter’s face?
But thinking is dangerous, especially when she’s around. I anxiously slide my gaze down to hers, my heart pounding in my chest as fear courses through my blood like a drug, and for a moment I’m certain she heard me. I’m certain she’ll wave her fingers and I’ll start hemorrhaging blood like my son, like my husband.  But she just smiles, puts her pudgy little hands on either side of my face and pulls me down to her level.
“Tell me why they had to die, Mommy,” she demands.
I shake my head. The tears start falling thick and fast and I sob as I say the words, “Because I loved them more.”
“More than who?”
“More than you. Because I loved them more than you.”
“But you don’t feel that way now, do you, Mommy? You can’t love them when their arms and legs are rotting off and they smell like that stinky cat I dug up from next door and put in Jakey’s bed. Besides, Daddy can’t even look at you anymore since the worms ate away his eyes.”
I slide to the floor and lean against the sink, wanting to purge the images of their rotting corpses from my head, wishing the odor wouldn't eat away at my nostrils day in and day out and set bile brewing in my stomach. Wishing I could lay them to rest instead of watching the meat fall from their bones and the maggots consume pieces of their flesh as we sit down to tea parties in the room that houses their bodies.
I pray that the ground will swallow me up and deliver me to a different hell than the one I currently reside in. I pray that she will lose her temper with me again and this time I’ll be reunited with my boys and this monster will be left here, alone. Of course, I never was very good at prayer.
She gets down on her knees in front of me and lifts my chin in her tiny grasp. “Don’t worry, Mommy. I’ll never leave you alone the way they did.”
She launches her little body at me, climbing into my lap and I find my arms automatically embracing her the way they used to. Her voice is muffled against my chest as she chirrups, “I’ll be with you forever and you’ll take care of me forever, because that’s what mothers do.” And she’s right. It is what mothers do. She may not be the same girl I gave birth to, but this little girl with the pigtails and dark eyes and the heart of a monster is all that remains of my once happy family.
She gets to her feet and pulls me to mine with ease. Her little face looks up at me and I can see the cogs turning in her brain, for a moment she’s just like every other six year old girl and then she’s smiling up at me with all the cunning of a demon, “Mommy, let’s have another tea party.” My heart turns to ice and shatters within my chest. “And this time you can feed the fairy cakes to Daddy.”

All work of fiction on this site is © Copyright of Carmen Jenner 2013 unless stated otherwise.
DO NOT COPY, REPLICATE OR REPRODUCE WITHOUT PERMISSION!


So that's it from me!
If you liked the story feel free to leave a comment! I love hearing from readers! 
And be sure to visit the other May Monster Madness Hops along the way:


16 comments:

  1. So good!!! Being a horror flick kind of person and watching so many movies where the child is "omen-ish" or that chick from the Orphan, I was really worried about having a kid that was too evil to love. This piece gave me chills.

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  2. I'm looking at the picture and wondering, "How is the grinding going working through the bones." lol

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  3. Really good... After watching the Omen movies, you can't help but think what would you do if your child was naturally evil?

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  4. Gorgeous girl... you have out done yourself in the most shocking freaktastic way! It is so good!
    Love ya gutz.
    x

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  5. Excellent piece; really creepy, really disturbing. There is nothing scarier than homicidal children, I write them a lot. BTW I see you have a story in Fear Volume I, I have one on Volume II!
    coffintreehill.tumblr.com

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  6. That was fantastically creepy! Love, love, love it!

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  7. Wow, now that is really creepy and get inside your head horrific. A+
    Tasha's Thinkings

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  8. Great post! Loved the story. It gave me chills.

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  9. Oh my! Cutest nastiness. Where on earth did she get a monster's heart?

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  10. Well that's freakin awesome! Thanks for the nightmare. Kids in stuff always creeps me out. I loved the Omen for that very reason.

    Shah x

    shahwharton.com

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  11. This story is insanely good! I loved it!

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  12. OH MY GOSH! That child was super freaking creepy. Your story had me by the throat. Loved your post!

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  13. Haha, you are so sick! I love it, and that picture...genius!

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  14. Loved your story! I'm a sucker for creepy children. :D

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  15. LOL!! This is hilariously grotesque, and so wrong in every way. I absolutely love it! Monster children are always the creepiest of monsters. This one reminds me of the much tamer Twilight Zone episode with the little boy: "You're a bad man! You're a very bad man! I'm sending you to the corn field!" And that image is so perfectly creepy too. :)

    MMM on Kristen's blog, Day 3: I'm Sorry, Monsters!

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  16. Brilliant story! I really loved it!! There's nothing creepier than an evil child!

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