A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

22 Calibre Killer

It WAS a beautiful day. Doreen felt like a reborn woman. She didn’t miss the not nursing. She didn’t miss the demanding patients, the drunks, the rude doctors, the pain and suffering. She had Lucas now. Her salvation. Her little replica of Stewart played happily in the sun lit room. The green pasture to the back of the house was alive with spring flowers, the air abounded with the calls of the birdlife replicating itself. Occasionally she could hear a distant car or farm truck, but the house was relatively isolated. She had several visitors in the morning. An old colleague, a distant cousin. This was the way it was now that Stewart had made the move to full time teaching, and she would have it no other way. Lucas was twenty-one months old. She still could not understand why age was measured in days, then moths, then years and she imagined when you got into your sixth decades it would be tens of years. One of life’s mysteries. Doreen checked the clock. Two thirty – about time for Lucas’s afternoon nap. She looked forward to that hour when she had time to herself. Not that she found being a first time mother a burden and she cherished every second she had with her precious little man. It was just that it felt like adult time. When she could do anything she wanted. Read a book; catch up on a recorded TV program. Do household chores, or, just sit and think how lucky she was. Stewart and her had planned a little break during midterm time. They would take Lucas to Doreen’s mothers place and then have two days at a remote beach site that they had discovered on their honeymoon. Two days didn’t seem like a long time but then two days away from Lucas would seem like an eternity to the boy – well at least in Doreen’s mind.

Lucas was getting a little grumpy – a sure sign that he was sleepy. Lately he had been sleeping in his first proper bed and it was never hard to get him to climb in – unlike the cot which he seemed to regard as some sort of prison with its impenetrable bars. He could just climb in and out of his ‘grown up ‘bed when and if he felt like it.

Lucas was safely in bed and Doreen decided that she would make something special for the evening meal. Being spring her mind turned toward something wild from the pasture out the front of the house. Something to go in a salad with maybe some nuts. That would go perfectly with the trout that Stewart had caught the previous night. She could still see in her mind’s eye the delight on both Stewart and Lucas’s face when that beautiful creature broached the water and splashed down. She reached for her Cullpeppers Herbal when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive. Someone must be lost or a salesman. Then she heard the distinctive sound of the gravel closer to the house and then the vehicle slowed. She heard a car door open and close – no open – not close. Definitely someone lost. Happened all the time here. So far away from a town and so many funny little roads interlocking with each other. Doreen heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the veranda and then a soft tapping on the door. She peeked through the curtain. A tall, slim man in a uniform repeated his knock on the door. She saw he had his police cap in his hand, down by his side and noted that he had kept on his aviator sunglasses. She hurried t the door and opened it.

Doreen was propelled back from the door and a gun thrust into her face. The man, clearly an officer of the law did not speak. He signalled with the gun for Doreen to move farther back into the house which now had lost the sun and had suddenly darkened. His lopsided grin contradicted the ugly eye of the weapon he now aimed at Doreen and ordered her to turn around. Terrified, Doreen obeyed and suddenly her world exploded as the gun fired and she felt a terrible pain in the back of her head. She felt herself falling and then she was aware that this despicable creature was on top of her and pulling down her slacks and then she felt him enter her with such a savage energy that she lost consciousness. She drifted in and out of the state for the ten minutes that he repeatedly raped her with his own phallus and then with his weapon. She was dimly aware that she was not going to survive this and she thought of Lucas and Stewart. She felt the cold barrel of the weapon at the back of her head and the last she heard was the roar of the weapon again and again as five shots were poured into her increasingly lifeless body.

Stewart thought there was something odd when he drove up the short drive. Normally, at this time of year, Doreen would be out on the veranda with Lucas to greet him. When he tried the front door he found it was locked. Why would the door e locked? He had a key but out here in the country no-one locked their doors. He called out Doreen’s name. No answer. He cautiously moved into the rear of the house. He was carrying a sheaf of papers which literally flew up into the air. Doreen was lying in a pool of blood, naked from the waist down. Her head was a mass of blood and gore. Lucas was crawling beside his mother, covered in blood and gray matter, He seemed rather unconcerned but Stewart could smell the urine and faeces from where he stood across the room. He fell to his knees and crawled toward the inert body of his wife, vainly hoping that this was some horrible nightmare and that she would be alive – not that he thought she could survive such horrific injuries.  .


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