RED UMBRELLA: FIRST KILL – MYSTERY SHORT STORY
I must confess, I have committed a heinous act. I murdered my own daughter in cold blood. Yes, I did!
My mind is still shrouded in uncertainty as to why I did it but I’m unable to recount the precise circumstances surrounding her demise.
Three days prior, Sarah addressed me with a most innocuous remark, “Mother, I’ll be late for my first college date.”
“Date?”, I replied, my faculties clouded by the lingering effects of a grievous blow to the cranium.
I won’t forgive her scandal of a father who in a brutal fight induced in me a temporary amnesia.
“I do not recall you mentioning this before now,” I said, my eyes fixated on the sitcom television show. “Detective Lydia Benson,” she addressed me by my full appellation, “have you been taking your medications?”
I responded with a truth stemming from anxiety and trepidation, “No, they are irritating and bitter to swallow.”
Her countenance was etched with concern as she moved over to grasp my hands warmly. “How do you plan to recover mum if you neglect your drugs?”
I drifted away lost in thought. “I am perfectly fine, Sarah. Look at me….hail and hearty.”
She frowned, her expression skeptical. “No mum you are not. Only dad and I are aware to your amnesia. Should the police department discover that their esteemed detective is unable to recall even the tiniest details, it would be detrimental.”
A sudden realization struck me – had my own daughter threatened to expose my affliction to my colleagues? Who was funding these thoughts? Where was her father, that bounder who had taken up residence across the street with his new wife and their ugly baby boy?
“Learn to address me with respect, young lady,” I admonished, my fingers pointed accusingly. “This amnesia detective puts food on your table.”
She apologized forthwith. “I’m sorry mum, let’s just go. You promised to take me to Brian’s….. that’s all.”
I regarded her with suspicion. “Indeed!….. Brian, you say?
“Yes”, she blushed.
I had to smile as well, a sense of pride swelling within me. “You are just as beautiful as I am, baby girl.”
A gentle peck was then bestowed upon her forehead whilst looking at the colour combinations of her mini gown.
“Good heavens mother!” she exclaimed with a playful gasp, “I am far more beautiful than you!”
I should have taken umbrage but it was my dear daughter venturing forth into the world with a young gentleman whose countenance I couldn’t quite recall.
“Mum we’ll be late”, she snapped me out of my raw thoughts, snatching my car keys from atop the bookshelf. “Do not forget to take your medications too, it is of the utmost importance.”
I formulated a broad, albeit insincere smile. How could I refuse that enchanting face? She was my sole solace, my beacon of sanity despite Nicholas’s audacity to marry and reside close to us. What could he hope to achieve by tarnishing my reputation? “That scoundrel!” I nearly screamed aloud.
“Uh, mother?” Sarah asked, fastening her seatbelt. “Are you chill? Who is this scoundrel?”
“Pay me no mind dear,” I replied starting the jeep. Normally, our conversations would revolve around her friends’ selfish antics or her inaugural, no doubt distasteful kiss. Today, however I was consumed by curiosity about this Brian fellow.
“Brian?” I glanced at her phone. “Show me his photo?”
She smiled mischievously. “I’ll do you one better detective…… a video call.”
Good Lord, I abhor those newfangled contraptions called smartphones. They have eradicated all semblance of privacy in this modern era.
“Very well”, she cautioned, “Mother it’s ringing. Please be nice.”
“I am always nice”, I muttered to myself with a scornful snort.
Casting a sidelong glance at my daughter holding the phone, I beheld his countenance as nothing but a fervent heart’s render, a chronic player.
“So, you are the young gentleman who has captured my daughter’s fragile heart?” I feigned another smile. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a charming grin, his eyes sparkling with innocence.
Sarah’s cheeks flushed with a becoming blush but I remained unmoved, my emerald eyes scrutinizing his unkempt hairstyle and the disheveled surroundings which suggested he had only recently arisen from a stripper’s slumber.
“I am on my way to you” I declared, turning to my daughter. “See that he treats you like a queen.”
“I shall, ma’am,” he hastened to reply before abruptly terminating the call.
I surmised he wished to put himself together for his demeanor bespoke a most disorganized individual, hardly the ideal suitor for my refined daughter.
“You could have chosen more wisely Sarah,” I opined.
“Mum???” she sat inflamed with indignation. “I’ll have you know Brian is a superb choice.”
“As a tool, perhaps,” I retorted, “but hardly as a prospective husband.”
She seemed taken aback, but I cared not for her feelings rather for truth. The bitter hard-won truth.
“You disgust me now,” she hissed, her hands clenched in defiance.
I nearly released a hot slap but it’s best to caution the second time, “I will not warn you again Sarah. You should learn to address me with respect.”
“Or what Lydia?” she mocked, that impertinence in her voice. “Dad abandoned you because you were nothing but a thorn in his side.”
“Sarah!” I barked, my legs almost off the brakes but we arrived at my husband’s residence where a most gruesome scene unfolded.
My colleagues from the police force were gathered, their faces grim.
“Murder!”, I read the lips of one through my side window.
Such bloodstains on the lawn and a severed hand.
“This is definitely a revenge motive”, I reversed the car with all due haste.
“Change of plans, Sarah, we are going to Wendy’s. You’ll be safe there.”
