road with his new shirt, trainers and toys. His father had promised never to fight with his mother again. It was the happiest day of his life.

One Hundred and One

Andrew turned on the radio, hoping that music would help push the memories away, but it was already too late. His mind was on a rollercoaster trip, and the memories and images just kept on coming.

He remembered that it had taken him only a few minutes to get back to his house after leaving his father at the gas station. He stuck the figurines in his coat pocket, jumped the fence and waited in the bushes that led to the backyard. He just wanted to make sure his mother wasn’t out there. It was too cold for her to sit out back anyway. Dashing to the wall, he started climbing up the trellis as he did every day, this time being even more careful than usual not to dirty his new trainers. He squeezed through the small round window at the top and entered his secret place.

The first thing he did, as always, was to take off his shoes and slip into a thick pair of woolen socks. The attic floorboards were steady, and he’d identified the squeaky spots long ago, but he still had to be careful when moving around up there. Andrew had already developed a way of tiptoeing and sliding his feet across the floor that allowed him to move around in almost total silence.

Andrew placed the three figurines on top of a wooden crate in the corner and stared at them with smiling eyes. His gaze flicked over to a bag of cotton balls and a box of paper clips on the floor by the crate. He felt something warm start growing inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long while. Suddenly he stuck his tongue out at the cotton balls and paper clips, mocking them. He wouldn’t be needing them any more. His father had promised him that he’d never fight with his mother again. And his father always kept his promises. They would go back to being a happy family like they used to be. And that meant that he wouldn’t have to initiate his own pain any more.

Andrew slotted himself in his favorite corner and grabbed a handful of comic books. He’d read them all, but he didn’t mind.

He must’ve been sitting there, flipping through his magazines for almost two hours when he heard a noise inside his parents’ room. Andrew put the comics down and looked through one of the many gaps he’d created in the floor. His mother had just walked into the room. She was wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel. Her hair was still wet and combed back. Andrew took his eye off the gap before his mother let go of her towel. He’d seen her naked before, but it had been by mistake. She’d been standing on a blind spot from any of Andrew’s floor gaps. When she finally reappeared, she had nothing on. Andrew knew it was wrong to look at his mother or father naked. He’d seen them hiding under the covers, making strange noises. He knew that’s what all the kids in school called a fuck, but from where he was standing, neither of them looked like they were enjoying it very much.

He went back to his comics, knowing that he had to be extra quiet now, but then he heard the door to his parents’ room being slammed shut with tremendous violence. His eye returned to the gap and his breath froze for several seconds. His father was standing by the shut door, but his face was almost unrecognizable, covered in so much rage it frightened Andrew down to his soul. His father’s hands, arms and shirt were soaked in blood. His mother was standing naked and paralyzed across the room from her husband.

‘Oh my God. What happened? Where’s Andrew?’ she asked, panic stalking her voice.

‘You don’t have to concern yourself with Andrew, you lying whore,’ Ray blasted in such an angry voice the room almost shook. ‘You should concern yourself more with your fucking lover.’

Emily hesitated.

‘I don’t think you’ll be fucking him any more.’ From his pocket he took something out. To Andrew it looked like a very bloody piece of meat.

Emily let out a strangled cry. ‘Oh my God, Ray. What have you done? What on God’s earth have you done?’ Her hands shot towards her open mouth in absolute terror.

‘I made sure that Nathan, that pathetic excuse for a man, will never wreck another home again.’ He smiled a satanic smile. ‘I also made sure that he won’t be able to say a word when he meets his maker. You could say that his lips are sealed.’ He took two steps in Emily’s direction.

She took one pace back and tried to cover her body with her hands.

‘Why did you have to do it, Emily? Why did you have to destroy our family? Why did you have to betray my love this way? Why did you have to make me do these things?’ Spit flew from Ray’s mouth. He returned the bloody piece of meat to his pocket. ‘Do you remember what we used to say to each other?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘We used to say — You are the one, honey. You are the one I’ve been looking for all my life. You are my soul mate. We’ll never be apart because you are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Do you remember that?’

Silence.

‘ANSWER ME.’

Ray’s yell was so loud and full of rage, Andrew immediately wet himself up in the attic.

‘Ye— yes.’ Emily had started crying and shivering so violently she was almost hyperventilating.

‘But I wasn’t the one, was I? You lied to me, you deceitful bitch. You made me believe that what we had was sacred. . special. . everlasting. But it wasn’t, was it? I wasn’t enough for you.’

Emily’s lips wouldn’t move.

‘Was he the one?’ Ray asked. ‘Was Nathan the one for you?’ He moved a step closer. Emily’s back was against the wall. She had nowhere else she could go. ‘Did you love him?’

No reply.

‘Did. You. Love. Him. .?’ Something changed in Ray’s entire demeanor, like someone else was taking over. Someone beyond evil.

Emily’s voice was completely gone. Her vocal cords frozen by sheer fear. In a reflexive and thoughtless action, she nodded ever so slightly.

That was all Ray’s rage needed to erupt.

‘If that’s what true love means to you, then you should have it. You should have it inside you forever. You and him, together as one — forever.’ He moved towards her with such speed and purpose that not even an army of soldiers could have stopped him. His closed fist hit the side of her head with so much power she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Above them, Andrew was petrified, too scared to respond, his voice had disappeared and his eyes had almost lost the ability to blink. His mind too young and naive to cope with all the images. But he never moved. He never took his eye off the gap.

For the next hour Andrew watched the monster inside his father surface.

Ray dragged Emily’s body to the bed and tied her down. He then grabbed a long piece of thick black thread and a needle, and proceeded to meticulously stitch her mouth shut. He retrieved whatever strange piece of bloody meat he had with him, spread Emily’s legs apart and forced it into her before stitching her shut. Ray then used her blood to write something on the wall. The letters were big enough for Andrew to be able to read them — HE’S INSIDE YOU.

Ray tipped the bed on one end so his wife was in a standing position and pushed it against the far wall.

Tears streamed out of Andrew’s eyes.

From the box on top of the wardrobe, Ray took his double-barreled shotgun, sat on the floor directly in front of Emily, crossed his legs, rested the shotgun on his knees and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later Emily opened her eyes. She tried to scream but the stitches on her lips kept most of the sound trapped inside her body. Her disbelieving eyes rested on her husband’s face.

He smiled at her.

‘Was this what you wanted, Emily?’ His tone had changed — serene, understanding, as if he’d suddenly found eternal peace within himself. ‘This is all your fault. And I hope you rot in hell for it.’ Ray tilted his head back and placed the barrels of the shotgun under his chin. His finger tightened its grip on the trigger.

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