dig deep // spesh

“we’re damned after all”

urbane magpie - forty one - district five

Am I a bad person, Braxton? My youngest daughter lies limp in my arms by the pool beyond the fence, her blood running over my palms. Am I a sinner, my love? But my husband was nowhere to be found, and any concept I had of hell, and sin, was gone with him. I let my little birds flee the nest, run amock with birds of a different feather. And now my little cuckoo child is dead, too. That was the blow that tore our family apart more than anything. More than Justice, bird-brained and feather-hearted; more than Celeste, eyes full of silver, seeing little else; even more than Savoy disassociating himself from us completely. But was he ever mine to lose?

The house is quiet, now. Only God knows where my fledglings are, and God help them all to come back home again. I've spent so long locked alone in my room, or absentmindedly preparing meals that go cold and stale, or purposelessly reading pages of books hundreds of times over, I can't take responsibility for them anymore. Not with a clean conscience, anyway - as if I've ever had one of them. But today, I am playing mummy, exercising my authority over them.

Meryem's room is filled with things she no longer needs. Pairs of shoes I know she must have grown out of years ago, old cups and bowls that were never cleaned, piles of stained sheets and clothes that need patching or washing or throwing away. Anyone would think I neglected her. If she spent more time at home, perhaps I wouldn't so easily forget to care for her. I don't know why I came in here, whether it was sheer curiosity or some need to find something - anything - that would give me some clue about where my daughter went every day, sometimes for weeks at a time.

Just as I check myself, remembering my time is short, I realise it's worse than that. I'm rummaging through piles of unfinished work when the door creaks open, and I whip around to stare the girl in the face. For a moment, we are both silent, deathly still, and I am filled with dread.