I stole Daddy’s knife to whittle him a pipe. He thought Momma lost it so he beat her good. I gave her the pipe instead.
When the doctor says infertile, I remember that baby I aborted years before. Though he says it’s nobody’s fault, I know barrenness is my penance.
Bright crimson water filled the tub. The day before she said, You were the best sister. I hadn’t noticed she was speaking in past tense.
I swore I’d never hit anyone, but when that jerk at school insulted my dead mom, I couldn’t help it. I’d never felt more powerful.
On Momma’s birthday I foraged berries for breakfast and even caught a frog to fry. I don’t know why she cried as she ate them.
The dusty basement air sets off my asthma. I deserve this, I think as my lungs scream. Good Christian girls kiss boys, not other girls.
When he plunges the knife into her chest, the pain overwhelms her, but she’s grateful for it. She won’t have to live like this anymore.
After slaying her children and herself, Lucy watched from beyond as the world painted her a maniac. It wasn’t me, she thought. He’ll hurt again.
Before leaving home, I gave Mom one last chance to leave him. “I’m so lonely,” she said. That was the last time I saw her.
The salty water burned Kelsey’s eyes as she sank, but she refused to close them. She wanted to watch as Death came to collect her.