Sally’s story. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep

That unfelicitated sound beleaguered Sally’s ears; just when a warm, blinding light hit her coffee brown eyes. She heard the birds chirping ephemeral notes on the birch tree by her bedroom window. The sky shone in a sapphire blue, and she took it on as a harbinger of the beautiful day ahead. Or well, it would be the silence before the raging storm, she thought to herself, smiling. 

Beep. Be-

She abruptly hit the alarm to a stop. It was her arch nemesis of beautiful, opulent sleep. But yet, it evocated the sign of her family wanting her up in the morning. So she lilted across the room, gracefully and made her bed to utter perfection. No creases, no wrinkles. 

She smiled at her wonderful work. Ebulliently, she dressed herself in a grey Tshirt, and faded blue jeans, being a mom didn’t leave her time to dress up, or even to have a dalliance with fine clothing. She hummed to herself as she hopped down the stairs, just like her pretty daughter, Michel would. 

She must be sleeping, still.  Sally thought to herself, and smiled. Michel was her cynosure. Her each movement was perfection. Only at the age of 3, she would still come up to Sally, and hold her cheeks and say “Mama”. My perfect baby. Sally smiled an eloquent smile to herself in the mirror by the kitchen. 

Just at twenty-nine, she was an ethereal felicity to anyone’s eyes. She was a quiescent soul, and was of resplendent beauty. With her jet black hair complimenting her pale white skin, and her captivating eyes were always a beauty to see. Michel had inherited her beauty, and her fathers wit.

Her father was away for a week for a seminar, he said. John was a busy man of duties. She smiled as she thought of him. He was the central piece of her thought spectrum. He was handsome and loving, and Sally loved him so very much.

She quickly whipped up some breakfast, and went upstairs to wake Michel up. She was sleeping peacefully, not a sound. 

“Wake up, pumpkin.”

Sally smiled and poked her. She just slept on and on. 

“I’ll carry you to the table then.”  Sally smiled and carried Michel downstairs. Michel looked awfully tired.

“No more waiting up and watching the telly till late, okay Hun? She kissed Michel on the cheek and served her breakfast, when she heard a knock on the front door. She furtively peeked from her curtains and to her dismay, saw Old Mrs. Brown at the door. Sally sighed. She hated this old woman who poked in at everything. 

She opened the door and covered her face with a dulcet smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Brown!”

“Oh, morning, where’s Michel? I don’t hear the kid. I was supposed to babysit her today, I suppose? John told me you had work and needed help.”

“N-no. Sally stammered. She did not want this boring old lady poking at her cushions and making fun of how they looked. I don’t have any work today. I’m staying home. Thanks Mrs. Brown”

“No no, it’s fine, let me in. I can help with your work and what not.” She insisted.

Sally tried to keep her calm and not yell. “Mrs. Brown, for the last time, I don’t need your help.” She said firmly.

“Is that Michel I see?! Asked Mrs. Brown, peeking through the door. “You’ve dressed her the wrong way, child.”

“It’s the new trend. Sally said, impatiently. 

“Sally, you’ve been doing this for two days now. You need help with the house work, darling. Let me in.” 

“NO, for godsake! I don’t need your help, old lady. Please, leave!” Sally yelled out, and slammed the door. 

She exhaled happily as she saw Mr. Brown walking away, yelling and sulky. 

“Crazy bat.” She laughed to herself.

“Michel, baby, I’m going to fix your bath okay?! Finish your breaky, love” Sally yelled out for Michel to hear, and ran upstairs and started the bath.

She then started cleaning Michel’s room. Opened the windows to let some air in, and for the birds to come in and sing their beautiful notes. She was delightfully doing her chores when she heard people on her front porch. Men. Susurrous sounds overtook her ears, and she heard surreptitiously kept footsteps. She was trembling. Who were these men and why are they in her front porch?! All secretive?! 

Michel. Her entire body trembled in fear and anger. Her baby. Were they here to take her away?! Maybe that awful old woman set this up to take her baby. She raged downstairs and armed herself with a kitchen knife when she heard men yelling. She couldn’t make out anything, but she protectively hovered over Michel with her knife held away from her face, towards the muffled sounds. 

“Open the door! Open it! Or we will make our way in. Give us the kid”

“No way in hell! Sally screamed, every nerve of her body lighting up with protective adrenaline. “You won’t get my baby, you bastards!”

Just then, the door burst open, and men walked in menancingly. Sally could see the penumbra of Old Mrs. Brown standing behind the men.

“Get the kid” she said, in a decisive tone.

NOOOOOOOOOOO”  Sally screamed so high that her lungs burned for air. She took baby Michel to her hands, and held her protectively upon her breast. “Don’t come any near, or I will stab you!”

They didn’t seem to heed her warnings. She screamed out loud and ran out the stairs, Michel clamped at her breast, tears flying down her face and adrenaline surging through her viens. And with sudden ferocity her foot slipped and she fell down by the bathroom with a loud thud. Pain ran through her. And yet she held on to Michel as tight as she could as she sees a man advancing towards her. And to her surprise, the mans voice sounds awfully familiar.

“J-John?! You too?! You are with them?! You bastard! How could you?! This is your-our child!! You moron!!”

Sally screamed while tears of pain and rage ran down her face. The man knelt by her and she tried to back away and hold her baby near. And to her surprise tears were rolling down his face as well. Then the pain that was surging in her took over and she blacked out while ripples of pain hit her even through the numbness. She couldn’t think of anything, she was floating, she felt ethereal, she felt beautiful, beautiful like Michel. Michel. Her baby. She had to wake up, to protect, to hold her in her arms and to ward off the evil people away from her daughter’s life,

“MICHEEEEEEEEEELLLLL”   Sally yelled at the top of her lungs as she woke up to a blinding light. She was at an unfamiliar place, and the smell reminded her of drugs. Drugs as in medicine. She was in a hospital bed. And at the end of the bed stood John. 

“YOU MORON!” She yelled. “Where is my Michel?! Where is my child?!” 

John walked up to her with tears streaming down his face. 

“Baby. Mi-michel, she is dead.”

“NOOOOO-NOO-NOOOO”  Sally screamed, wailing like a banshee. 

“Baby, she had died three days before. You-you were holding on to a dead body when we found you. Me and the cops. Mrs. Brown told us that she had seen Michel not move for more than 2 days and you had been turning her away from the house, baby. The house had been stinking up the whole neighborhood. Michel, died of drowning, the cops said, baby. Did she die in the bath?! Baby?! 

John shook Sally, expecting her to answer.

She looked at him, a look of complete insanity and said “Baby, Michel was just taking a bath. She was taking a bath. A bath. A bath. A bath. A bath”. 

  


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