WHODUNNIT? Sissy did
it!
You know what it feels like.
When you spot something from the corner of your eye but it doesn’t quite
register enough to make you stop whatever it is you are doing. What you do get though, is a shadow of a
feeling about something, something that you feel is not right. Sometimes it makes you look back at what you
spotted, but mostly you continue on and there's just a weird feeling of something, something important, that lingers and iritates. Sort of a spooky unease.
That was exactly the feeling Karen had as she parked the car
in the driveway of their home tonight.
She put the sensation down as the feeling she had been getting ever
since Frank had sprung Sissy from her confinement and allowed her to stay with them.
“She’s part of our family,” he had said that first night after
Sissy had gone to bed in the spare room. Later, on their way upstairs to get ready for bed Frank had
added “Regardless of what she may or may not have done in the past, its our job
now to show we trust her, to show
her how she can change, you know, we just be who we are, she can use us an example of civilised behaviour.”
“But Frank, you have to admit it, no-one's ever said she wasn’t
guilty, they just couldn’t prove the case. I want
you to kick her out, sooner the better, let her go her own way. She ‘s made her own life, let her live with it. I don’t see why we have to provide for her”
“Oh, leave it out Karen, you are the only one who thinks she
could have done anything. I mean really, does she act like a killer?”
“What!? How can you tell?” “Know lots of murderers, do you?”
From there the discussion descended into the usual bitter
jibes and picking until Frank once again stormed out of the bedroom to sleep on
the couch. That night though it was not just
a sulk, as Karen tossed angrily in bed she heard him chatting away happily
downstairs. He could only be talking with
Sissy as Karen had made certain that both Jenny and Bruce were sound asleep and
warm under their covers hours ago. Listening
to Frank talk for what seemed like hours, Karen finally relented and, in an act of
contrived 'civilised behaviour' , went downstairs to join them. After that night talking with Frank and Sissy her anger subsided and Karen begrudgingly agreed
to allow Sissy to stay for a while, sort of, at least until she could think of
a subtle way to get her to move on.
The feeling tonight as she aproached her front door was a bit different to the usual unease
she felt at having to deal with Sissy again.
As Karen walked towards the front of the house she realised Sissy was not around. It was an ingratiating trait Sissy had of listening
for the car arriving onto the gravel of the driveway and then making a point of being around as
Karen came in. It always made Karen feel
like she was visiting someone rather than coming back to her own home.
Tonight, as she entered the foyer the feeling was very strange. “You there, Sissy?” Karen called out, hanging
her coat on the rail and dropping her handbag on the chair. That
strange feeling got stronger as she realised she couldn’t hear the radio on or Jenny
or Bruce playing in the front room, the whole house was silent. “Hullo? Anyone?”
Karen called out louder as she made her way into the hallway. Then she realised
the front room was in darkness. That was
what she had, but hadn't noticed as she'd pulled up in the car. The standard lamp was on a timer and always
came on so Jenny and Bruce could play through the dusk until she got home.
She reached for the switch to turn on the centre light. The halogen bulbs flooded a chaotic scene of
destruction with a searing white light. Jenny and Bruce lay bloodied and still
on the floor, the vase of lilies Karen had arranged so carefully this morning
had fallen and smashed on the floor beneath its place on the windowsill. The standard lamp rested on the edge of the
coffee table, its bulb smashed and frosted glass scattered in a parabola from it’s
point of impact. Karen took it all in
and collapsed onto her knees, part crawling across the floor to reach gently for
the limp bodies of Jenny and Bruce. Their small sweet bodies were as cold as
ice, eyes staring lifeless in fright from what they had been put through. A scream tore from Karen’s chest and she buried
her head between the two corpses.
“What the?” Frank yelled as he rushed in from the front door. “oh my god….
Karen, Karen, are you alright? H..How are they?”
“They are fucking dead you moron……. Your Bloody cat has
killed again see? I told you she would, my lovebirds,
My beautiful birds. My beautiful sweet, chatty, playful birds. Your feral murderer has killed
them and fuckin-well destroyed the house to do it!”
