Idée Fixe

Monica

Chapter Eighteen

Her cry fills the mansion and my heart aches at the sound.  I watch from the cracked door of the closet as my seven-year-old daughter maneuvers around the room, searching for any clues of where her parents could be.

"Mama?" She cries out for me and it takes everything in me not to rush to her side.

She falls to her hands and knees, looking underneath the bed as she continues to cry.

"Mama, please."

Her clothes are covered in the blood that my husband planted all over the house to make our deaths look believable. Her long, dark brown hair that was once neatly in a ponytail is now messy and untamed. I continue to watch as she breaks down before me, her small frame shaking violently from her uncontrollable crying. If it weren't for Avery's strong grip on me, I would have already caved in and ruined our plan.

"It's to save her life," I remind myself in my head as tears spill from my eyes.

"Daddy," she cries out through her sobs, "please come home."

I can feel Avery slightly moving behind me, his body language indicating that it isn't easy for him either.

-

I stare at the pills that sit in the palm of my hand, morosely contemplating. That seems to be the only thing I'm good at in life now, that and failing.  I've been contemplating for years because dying seems so much better than living without feeling alive.

"Monica?"

My breathing catches as I'm pulled out of the harmful thoughts that cloud my mind.  I peer up at Thea as she enters the bathroom and she stares at me confusingly, causing my heart to shatter a little more than it already has.  Tears stain my face, but I cry so much that the wetness on my skin is a feeling I'm all too familiar with.

"What are you doing?"  There's hidden pain behind her voice.

More shattering in my heart occurs as I take in the beautiful young woman that stands before me.  Behind her beauty is so much brokenness and pain, so much loneliness and I know that I'm one to blame.  My biggest failure, my only regret.

"Sometimes," I clear my throat as I find the courage to speak, "sometimes these negative thoughts are so overpowering and I can't hear my own voice.  I'm so tired of feeling like this, Thea."

She stares at me and there are so many emotions that spark between her tearful eyes.

"You aren't happy here?"

"I lost my happiness the moment I lost you and your brother," I admit.

"But, I'm here now."

"I know and when you first came I felt that happiness again, but it faded when I realized how affected you were by our decision.  How can I be happy when I've caused you so much trauma?"

"You have the opportunity to make up for that trauma and feel happiness again," she walks towards me, before wiping my tears away with her fingertips, "I don't hate you. These last four months I've grown so much love and respect for you."