Hillary_Flesh and Blood

by Angel Gelique

  Kathy continued to rush toward home. There were tears in her eyes. Hillary raced ahead of her and stopped, blocking her way.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?” Hillary demanded.

  It was all too much for Kathy to process. She leaned forward, practically dropping Joshua to the ground, and threw up. Joshua began wailing, mostly as a result of seeing his mother get sick as opposed to feeling any pain from hitting the ground.

  “Are you okay?” Hillary asked when her mother was done retching.

  Kathy wiped her mouth with her trembling hand then picked her now-hysterical little boy up.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said, hoping Hillary would move out of the way.

  “But what happened back there?” Hillary persisted.

  “I just felt sick all of a sudden,” Kathy said nervously, “I need to lie down.”

  “Was it the smell?”

  “Yes, yes, the smell,” she said, tears escaping her eyes.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I just have to get home, Hillary, please...please just step aside.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  Kathy nodded quickly, anxiously. She felt dizzy, her legs weak. Would she even be able to walk?

  Hillary stepped aside reluctantly. Even though her mother had clearly gotten sick, she knew deep down it wasn’t just from the smell. Nor was it a stomach bug or flu. She knew.

  Kill her....

  “You have to walk, Joshua,” Kathy said softly as she lowered Joshua to the ground against his rambunctious protest. He kicked and screamed on the ground, stretching his arms out to Kathy.

  “I’ve got him, Mom, you walk ahead.”

  “No!” Kathy shouted impetuously, “I can manage.”

  She quickly scooped Joshua up and walked toward the house without looking back.

  She knows...she needs to die....

  It’s all Joshua’s fault, Hillary thought, he ruined everything, that little piece of shit. I’ll make him suffer for this. I’ll make him pay....

  She followed behind her mother as she thought of her brother—that whiny micro version of her nasty father. She would have nearly as much fun with him as she was having with Caleigh.

  Even more fun, the voice corrected her, and Hillary, eyes brimming with hatred, slowly nodded her assent.

  ~14~

  Kathy went back to ignoring Hillary. Hillary had pestered her at home several times, trying to figure out exactly why she had gotten so upset. She knew deep down that the pile of rotting flesh had somehow confirmed her suspicions. After all the effort she had put into assuaging her doubts, Joshua had to go and make a big fuss in front of the disgusting heap, drawing their mother’s attention right to it.

  Hillary was almost too disappointed to eat. Almost. Despite the catastrophic afternoon, she was famished. While her mother and Joshua were upstairs, she lingered downstairs and ate one of the sandwiches. Then another. Then threw everything up. Was it just nerves? A stomach virus? Maybe there really was something going around and she and her mother both had it. Maybe that’s all it was, maybe her mother’s suspicions hadn’t been restored by the maggot-ridden mess on the ground.

  Hillary didn’t see her mother again until dinnertime. She had stayed upstairs with Joshua the entire afternoon.

  “Are you feeling better?” Hillary asked, as she followed her mother into the kitchen.

  Kathy nodded, keeping her eyes lowered. It was a clear sign that something more than gastrointestinal troubles was bothering her.

  Joshua was making noise with his toys in the family room.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Hillary asked.

  “No,” Kathy replied curtly, still avoiding eye contact with Hillary.

  “Then why are you acting like that?” Hillary persisted.

  “I just don’t feel well,” Kathy lied.

  “It’s more than that....”

  “No, really. I just need to get dinner started,” Kathy answered, turning her back to Hillary as she reached for a bag of potatoes.

  “Do you need help?”

  Kathy just shook her head.

  “Don’t use all of the potatoes,” Hillary said, reminding her mother that she would be cooking dinner the following night.

  Kathy did not respond. With shaky hands, she began peeling potatoes.

  Hillary exhaled loudly in exaggeration before leaving the kitchen.

  Kill her...she knows...you have to kill her....

  Hillary’s heart raced. Had it really come to that? She had no qualms about killing her father, in fact, rather enjoyed it, but her mother? She had always loved her mother.

  She didn’t help you...she didn’t protect you...she didn’t even believe you, the voice taunted.

  Hillary shook her head as she ran to the bathroom downstairs and threw up again.

  Nerves, she thought anxiously, it’s just nerves.

  Hillary kept telling herself that’s all it was...nerves, stomach bug, something reasonable…something she could deal with. Yet, she was beginning to suspect something else, something vile and unacceptable. Her breasts were tender and sore. She was now over a week late with her menstrual period. The thought of her father’s demon growing within her like a cancer just made her want to throw up even more. No, it couldn’t be that. It just couldn’t be.... It was just nerves. Or a stomach bug. That’s all it was....

  Hillary rinsed her mouth quickly then walked into the family room. Joshua was still playing with his train set. He had other toys strewn across the carpet. Hillary kicked a stuffed rhinoceros out of her way as she walked to the couch.

  “Bad Hillry,” Joshua scolded her on his way to get his dingy rhino.

  “Stop making such a mess,” Hillary retorted.

  “My toys!” Joshua yelled. “Don’t touch, Hillry!”

  “Shut up!” Hillary shouted, wanting to be left alone. She had too much on her mind. She needed to think about things. She needed to do some planning.

  “You shut up!” Joshua argued back.

  Hillary stared at him with fierce loathing. She hated that little trouble-making pest. She had loved him once, long ago, back when life made sense. Now she hated him nearly as much as she hated her father. That’s who he was, just a smaller carbon copy…a seedling waiting to reap the same misery onto another innocent girl—maybe even his own daughter. Hillary would break the vicious, abhorrent cycle. She would never let him grow big enough to hurt anyone. She would hurt him first....

  “Stop lookin’ at me,” Joshua commanded, balling his little fists and stomping his foot in frustration.

  It made Hillary laugh out loud to see his feeble attempt at ordering her around. She laughed loudly, exaggeratedly, mocking him.

  “Stop laughing,” he yelled.

  Hillary continued laughing, pointing at him degradingly.

  “Stop!” he shouted then began to cry.

  Long tears slid down his chubby, reddening cheeks. Hillary continued laughing at him, taunting him further.

  “Mooommm-meeeeee,” he wailed, rubbing his eyes.

  “You’d better learn to be a good boy, Joshua,” Hillary said menacingly. She stopped laughing and glared at him malignantly.

  “Mooommm-meeeeee,” Joshua cried out loudly.

  Kathy came running into the room as if she expected to find Hillary murdering her little boy. Hillary could actually hear the sigh of relief and see the tension leave her face when she realized that Joshua was fine, just upset.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” she asked as she pulled him up and hugged him tight.

  “Hilllll-reeee,” he whimpered pitifully, without elaborating.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, come keep Mommy company in the kitchen.”

  Without glancing over at Hillary or acknowledging her in any way, Kathy left the room with Joshua in her arms.

  “It’s okay,” Hillary muttered under her breath, “don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m fine.”

  She doesn’t care about you....

 
Hillary believed it. How often had her mother made that crystal clear?

  Kill them...kill them both, the voice hissed nastily.

  This time, Hillary didn’t find the idea all that appalling.

  Dinnertime was a long, awkward silence for twenty-five full minutes. Even Joshua was atypically quiet and less fidgety. After Hillary had eaten and could no longer stand the tension, she carried her dish to the kitchen, nearly breaking it as she dropped it into the sink before storming to the couch. She just wanted to run up to her room and be left alone, but she had to make sure her mother didn’t wander down to the basement. Playing night guard had grown old but she needed to continue being careful, especially now that her mother was on to her. She changed the channel to some obnoxious pre-teen show she used to enjoy once upon a time. It really didn’t matter much what show illuminated the television screen, she had too much on her mind to care.

  Kathy took Joshua upstairs with her after she was done filling the dishwasher, washing a couple of the pots by hand and wiping down the counters. By then Joshua had gotten on her last nerve whining about wanting to go into the family room to play with his train. She didn’t believe that Hillary would do anything to Joshua, but she preferred to have him close to her, just in case. Her instincts weren’t always too keen.

  Though she had been so sure that the decaying matter out in the woods had been a human body part—Michael’s body part—she now doubted herself and was feeling guilty about giving Hillary the cold shoulder. She had been so excited about the picnic. Everything was great—despite their missing family members. They had connected, had begun to bond again, and now everything was worse than ever. She had thought about apologizing but still needed to think about things. She would wait another day. Tomorrow was Mother’s Day. She would try to work things out then. Maybe.

  It was one of those long, sleepless nights for Kathy. She tossed and turned, haunted by images of decaying flesh. At some point during the night, she dreamed that Hillary killed Michael and that she had helped her chop him into pieces with an axe. She awoke with a start, sweating profusely. After she had fallen back to sleep, she dreamed that Michael was a bloody, maggot-covered corpse that came to her in the night. He forced himself upon her and kissed her on the mouth. His slimy, decaying tongue fell off into her mouth and slithered down her throat, gagging her. Kathy woke, crying out in fear, something she hadn’t done since she was a young child. Her heart was hammering rapidly. She was so spooked out that she had to turn on her bedroom light.

  Kathy sat up in bed for the remainder of the night. She wanted to clear her mind, not think about Hillary, but once again, she was all she could think about...and Michael...then Caleigh. She felt as if she had made all of the wrong decisions for too long and now it was too late. Her fate had been sealed.

  Over and over again her instincts begged her to turn to the police; let them handle it, let them sort things out. But for more than one reason she refused to listen to that nagging gut feeling. For one thing, she feared that the dirty, deep, dark secret would be revealed and she would surely be implicated for not reporting Michael. Second, she loved Hillary, despite her trepidation, despite her reservations. Hillary was her daughter, her first-born child. She didn’t want to see anything bad happen to her. She had loved Michael, but when it came down to it, if Hillary killed him, he got what he deserved, really. It was Caleigh’s disappearance that troubled her. Would Hillary hurt her own sister? Where was she? What had she done to her?

  Clearly, Hillary was not going to be forthcoming. Kathy had tried taking that route—asking her directly. Hillary had denied having any involvement in the disappearance of her father and sister. She insisted that they had just left, had taken off together. That just didn’t make sense to Kathy, even though she had noticed many of their belongings missing. Why would Michael leave without his cell phone?

  The same questions plagued Kathy’s brain. No matter how she tried to rationalize their vanishing, nothing made sense. She had a splitting headache. It hurt so much to think, yet she couldn’t shut off her brain. She wanted to sleep, yet she didn’t want to dream. So Kathy passed the hours wallowing in misery, afraid of her past, present and future...afraid of always being weak and powerless and insignificant, afraid of the truth and the lies...afraid…just afraid.

  Haunted by horrific speculation, frustrated by the unknown, Kathy spent the last hour before leaving her bed praying for strength. She knew she had a long, dim road ahead of her. She knew her nightmare was just beginning.

  Hillary stirred on the couch when she heard Kathy’s footsteps on the stairs. It took her a second to remember how bad things had become. It was Mother’s Day, but her mother hated her. Her mother wanted nothing to do with her. Her mother had only cared about her disgusting father. Now that he was gone, she only cared about her disgusting brother.

  She didn’t know if she felt more sadness or anger over how things had progressed, but without a doubt, she knew she had just one ally, one friend: the voice of reason. She had defied it before and where did it get her? The voice knew. It was always right. Hillary had to find a way to shed her weak emotions and obey its every command. The voice was her god.

  Hillary wouldn’t say “Happy Mother’s Day” or make any further attempts at conversation. If her mother knew she was a monster, then there was no point hiding the savage beast.

  Had Kathy shown just a little compassion, given Hillary the slightest glimmer of hope, it might have been a different day entirely. However, between her physical and mental exhaustion and her indecision about how best to handle the situation, Kathy did what came easiest to her. She ignored it. And she ignored Hillary. She prepared breakfast and lunch, which Hillary, like a moth drawn to a flame, ate silently in the company of her dwindling family. Breakfast was particularly awkward, but Hillary didn’t care. She was starving and she was going to eat the pancakes her mother made.

  Lunch started out just as dreadful, but halfway through, the phone rang. Kathy answered the phone just before the call went to the voicemail.

  “May I speak with Mr. Greyson?” a woman’s voice requested.

  “Uh, no, he’s not here. Who’s calling?”

  “I’m Dr. Mackey from Chestnut Ridge Animal Hospital. Are you Mrs. Greyson?”

  “Yes,” Kathy replied.

  “Thank God. I’ve been trying to contact your husband for days. He brought your dog, Storm, here for treatment. By the way, what exactly happened to Storm?”

  “I-I don’t know...I wasn’t home.”

  “Uh-huh,” murmured Dr. Mackey skeptically, “well, in any case, I couldn’t get through to anyone on the number your husband left for me so finally I thought of looking through the file for an alternate number. I’m glad I reached you. You’ll have to come and get Storm. I’m afraid I can’t board her here any longer, I’m leaving in a couple hours for Virginia.”

  “What? Pick her up today?”

  “Can you be here in about half an hour?”

  “There’s no way, I live about an hour away, can’t you just keep her another night?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mrs. Greyson, as I mentioned, I’m going away. Storm is better now. I was rather surprised that no one called to check on her. Your husband seemed so concerned about her.”

  “We’ve got a lot going on here, Dr. Mackey. I just don’t know if I can drive down there on such short notice.”

  “I assure you, Ma’am, I’ve left several messages for your husband. Do you all not want this dog back?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Of course we want her back.”

  “Then I suggest you come and get her, otherwise I’m dropping her off at the county pound as an abandoned pet.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Kathy pleaded, not knowing what to do. The timing was awful.

  “Well, I’ll leave it up to you. I’m locking up at three o’clock sharp. If you’re not here, I’ll take Storm to the county pound in Willingston and you can try to get her back from there.”

>   “No, no...I’ll be there. I’ll leave in a little while and be there before three.”

  “Oh, and bring your checkbook,” Dr. Mackey added, hanging up without waiting for a reply.

  “I have to get Storm,” Kathy said aloud, to no one in particular. She just needed to hear the words in order to process them, to let them sink in, to affirm what needed to be done.

  She’s talking to me again? Hillary thought, not especially thrilled about it. Still, it was Mother’s Day.

  “How is she?” Hillary asked, with obvious disinterest and lack of concern.

  Kathy stared blankly at Hillary for a long moment before finally replying.

  “Fine, I guess. The vet needs me to pick her up by three.”

  “Storm?” Joshua chimed in.

  “Uh-huh, Storm’s coming home,” Kathy said, unsure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Hooray! Joshua cheered on happily. It was the first time he’d smiled all day.

  Seeing Joshua’s excitement brought a thin smile to Kathy’s face as well. She felt her tension ease up just a bit.

  “Happy Mother’s Day,” Hillary said flatly.

  Despite her tone, Kathy was pleased to hear the words. Hillary had made an effort and it was just what she needed to tip the scales in her favor.

  “Thanks, Hillary,” Kathy replied, her smile broadening.

  “I’m sorry you were so upset last night.”

  “I just had a lot on my mind...I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  Hillary smiled. Things were looking up. Maybe she wouldn’t have to—

  She deserves to die....

  The smile left Hillary’s face. She felt nauseous again.

  “Hillary? Everything all right?”

  Hillary nodded.

  “I’m okay,” she said, forcing a smile on her face as she ignored her queasiness.

  Kathy nodded.

  “Have some more macaroni and cheese,” she offered Hillary, who shook her head and fought hard to keep down what she had already ingested.

  “No thanks, I’m full.”

  Joshua was humming a cheery tune while he daydreamed, most likely thinking of Storm returning home.