Committing the Crime (Murder in the Family II)

“Shall I leave you two to talk?” Mrs Robinson asked quietly.

“Yes I’d like that.” I said as I looked at the back of my father, hunched over in his wheelchair “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

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I watched the matron walk back into the building before turning around and focusing on the evil old man in the wheelchair. My vision blurred as anger and resentment built up inside me. He didn’t look human, merely a clip from a movie reel. Adrenalin started to flow through my veins as I got ready to kill him.

I walked around the wheelchair, not getting too close, not wanting to smell his old mans stench. This was the man who had caused so much pain to his family, my family. He smelled of evil. Sitting on the bench in front of him I watched and waited.  He was napping. Drool escaped from the corner of his mouth.

Finally he opened his eyes. When he saw me they opened very wide.

“Angie is that you?”

“Yes father it is.”

“You’ve come to see me after all of these years. I dreamed of this day.” he said in his weak old voice.

“No, I don’t think you did.” I replied

“Jerry still comes to see me. Jerry is a fine boy.”

“Jerry’s dead, he doesn’t come to see you.” I said flatly.

“Dead, when did he die?”

“Six months ago. I held a pillow over his head until he stopped breathing. He was evil just like you.”

“No Angie, he was here this morning. Whats wrong with you?” He whined.

I kneeled in front of his wheelchair. He held out his arms to hug me, but I wasn’t looking for a hug, I was looking for revenge.  I placed my gloved hand gently, but firmly over his nose and mouth. My other hand found the back of his head and I held him so  he couldn’t move. He was weak, it wasn’t difficult. I whispered gently in his ear.

“This is for the pain you caused my mother for over twenty years. You broke her heart, but when that wasn’t enough, you broke both arms, her leg and her jaw. You broke my childhood and ruined my life.  You should not have been allowed to live this long.”

He didn’t struggle for long, and slumped over in his chair.

Ahhhhh, that felt so good, I thought to myself as I propped him up, I feel so much better now. Sitting on the bench in front of him, I laughed and chatted as though nothing had happened. Mrs Robinson looked out from the sitting room window and waved. I smiled brightly and waved back.

“How nice that Michael’s daughter came to visit.” she said to one of the residents.

I kissed my dead father on the cheek. “Rot in hell ou old bastard. Death really is too good for you.”

As I walked back to the nursing home, Mrs. Robinson met me. “Oh dear, leaving so soon?” she said.

“Yes my father is tired. I’ve been living abroad so I haven’t seen him for a while, I’ll be back next week though.” I lied.

“Oh lovely, I think he gets lonely. Take care, see you soon.”

Not if I can help it, I thought to myself.  In fact I hope I never see you again. 

 

Dead of July (Small)

Murder in the Family

Angie walked into the nursing home and was immediately greeted by an old lady with bright blue eyes.

“Hello, have you come to take me home?” she said.

“What?” Angie replied. “I think you have me mixed up with someone else. I’m here to kill my father.”

The old lady walked away, her head drooping in disappointment. “They left me here, no one ever comes to get me.” she said looking over her shoulder one last time. Angie laughed because the old crony had no idea she had just admitted she was about to commit murder.

“Hello, I’m the matron here, sorry Kathy lives in hope of getting out of here. She has run away several times, once in the back of the laundry van.” she said laughing. “She has Alzheimer’s and really has no clue where she is. Can I help you find someone?”

“Yes, you must be Mrs Robinson, we spoke on the phone, I’m Angie.”

“Oh hello, nice to meet you. You are here to see Michael. You are his first visitor in four years. His son used to visit, but I haven’t seen him in a couple of years.”

“My brother died eighteen months ago.” Angie replied as she remembered holding the pillow over her brother’s face until he stopped struggling.

“Oh dear, how sad. Well you are the first family member to visit him in a long time.”

And I may be the last, Angie thought silently.

“Come with me, he is sitting in a wheelchair out in the garden.”

“Does he know I’m coming?” Angie asked.

“Yes he does.” The matron answered, looking away, unable to meet Angie’s eyes. Michael wasn’t a pleasant man and had not wanted his daughter to visit.

They walked out into the garden. A frail old man sat in a wheelchair, his clothes hanging loosely on his wasted body.

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“Is he in good health?” Angie asked.

“No, his heart is failing. He is too old for surgery. He could live another five years, or he could die next week.” The matron answered softly.

Or he may die this afternoon. Angie thought to herself.

 

Dead of July (Small)