R.I.P.

by Charity B.

  “All right,” is the only response I can think to give.

  Reaching down, I pull up my underwear and jeans. I wish I had time to wash her off in the shower before Dad gets home.

  When she’s finally gone, I dig around in my nightstand for a knife. The rage that smothers me every single time I finish with her rips at my chest. I slice fast across my sensitive skin. The wounds from the night before last haven’t healed yet, so their tenderness screams when the blade runs over them. I hate that I hate her.

  Smell the flowers, blow out the candles.

  Flipping off my light, I rub my fingers over the bumpy wallpaper in the hall on my way to Adriel’s bedroom. I push open her door to find her on the floor, playing with her toys.

  “Was Mommy just in your room?” she asks.

  My face and neck heat up with my nod. “We need to set the table. Dad will be home soon.”

  At the mention of my father’s return, she picks up a doll before bolting over to me. It’s impossible to be next to her and not smile. Her hand tightens around mine, soothing my nerves as she pulls me all the way down the stairs.

  Dad walks in just as I’m placing the forks on the napkins next to the plates. “Hey, kids, did you have a good day?”

  Sometimes my life feels like it’s on repeat. I’m constantly battling with myself, wondering if things would be worse if he knew. What if he thinks that I did it because I wanted to? That she’s confused, and I’ve been seducing her? I’m too scared that she’ll be taken away or he’ll never look at me the same again. I eventually always come to the same conclusion: that enduring what she does is the best and safest choice.

  Adriel hugs her creation to her chest as she nods. “Yes, Daddy. Did you?”

  He gives me an unidentifiable look as he kisses the top of her head. “Yes, I did, baby girl.” Walking over to the slow cooker on the counter, he stirs its contents. “Why don’t you both go get washed up and tell your mother it’s time to eat.”

  Adriel follows me out to the hallway, tugging on my arm. “Do you want me to go tell Mommy, so you don’t have to?”

  Her offer makes my throat swell. While my mother’s cruelty toward her has diminished to subtle abhorrence over the years, she still treats Adriel like crap. As much as I hate to ask her to do that, it’s hard for me to be alone with Mom so soon after she’s been in my room.

  “Is that okay?”

  Her eyes darken when a small smile contradicts them. Standing on the tips of her toes, she softly puts her lips to mine before running to go downstairs.

  Once my hands are clean, I go back to the kitchen. There’s still half a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge, and I’m setting it on the table when Dad ruffles my hair like I’m fucking six.

  “You doing all right?”

  I shrug. It’s not like I can honestly answer that.

  His eyes narrow, moving his hand to my shoulder. “I don’t deny that I sometimes make mistakes, son. I just need you to know I’m always here for you. I love you, okay?”

  I swallow the unexpected tears. Our relationship has always been a struggle. While he definitely frustrates me, I know he tries his hardest, and I’ve never doubted his love.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  With a sad smile, he finishes putting the food on the table while we wait for Mom and Adriel.

  “I wasn’t going to mention this until after we eat, but the last thing I want to do is blindside you again.” All the moisture in my mouth completely evaporates, forcing me to swallow. His arm rests on my shoulder. “I’m bringing you with me to pick up a sinner tonight. We’ve done this with you kids three times, and you have yet to personally take a life.” My eyes stretch wide, and he sighs. “It’s time to rip off the proverbial bandage. I promise, the first time is the toughest.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode. I struggle to get my mouth around any words as sweat beads along my skin. Finding a response is impossible, so when Mom and Adriel enter the kitchen, my lungs feel like they can finally expand. We sit at the table, and I blank out during the prayer. All I can think about is what will be expected of me later tonight.

  The whole concept is still confusing. We were raised with a clear set of rules: thou shall not have any other gods before me, thou shall not dishonor thy mother and father, thou shall not steal, thou shall not kill…

  What pisses me off is that family night contradicts all of those rules, making them irrelevant and my parents hypocrites. Adriel, the most obedient person I know, seems to be completely unaffected by the fact that we’ve been taking human lives. In fact, she’s been more vibrant since this all began. Like she’s more awake. While the knowledge that it’s going to continue to happen sets me on edge, it seems to revitalize her. She truly loves it while I dread it. These ‘sinners’ aren’t going to stop, so my family isn’t going to stop killing them, and I’m the only one uncomfortable with it.

  The end of our meal comes way too soon. My dad stands to put his plate in the sink and says, “Malakai and I are going out. You two need to be ready when we get back.”

  “Are we having another family night?!” Adriel shrieks.

  My mother’s face is blank until realization slowly hits her. “You’re taking him to get her?” Her voice is unsteady as she glares at my father. “Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

  Wait…her? The last three kills have all been men. He’s going to make me kill a girl? The little bit of food I just ate rolls in my stomach.

  “He’s more capable than you give him credit for.” Even through my anxiety, his belief in me makes me smile.

  “I wasn’t—” She abruptly stops, standing from the table. When she walks over to me, her lips kiss the top of my head. “Be careful, baby,” she whispers. Barely looking at Adriel, she adds, “Clear the table. I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Dad sighs, watching her leave the kitchen.

  “Can I come too?” Adriel asks.

  He walks over to her and cups her cheek. “Not this time, baby girl, but I promise I’ll take you at some point, okay?”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  He taps her chin. “Good girl.” On his way out of the kitchen, his hand squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, son.”

  My heart fights to free itself from my chest, and I freeze. I don’t want to do this! Glancing at Adriel, I see her pretty smile. She jumps from her seat, hugging me tight. “I hope you have so much fun,” she whispers.

  Just so she doesn’t worry, I force a smile. “Thanks.”

  I’m slow to my feet as I follow my dad to the garage. “This never goes exactly as planned, so be prepared to improvise.” He opens a cabinet above his workbench, removing a clear glass bottle labeled ‘XylaMed’ and a small syringe. “This is what we’ll inject her with once she’s incapacitated.” He fills the syringe. “We’ve learned through trial and error that horse tranquilizer works best. If you need to ever do this yourself, remember, no more than one milligram per one hundred pounds. If you don’t, they might take too long to wake up or not wake up at all.”

  The room spins, so I lean against the table saw. I don’t know if I can do this. He’s made me hurt them each time. I’ve cut off an ear, scooped out an eye, burned away flesh…still, I was never the reason they died. “How did you even get that? I’m pretty sure it’s not available at the Wiggle Mart.”

  “No, it’s not.” Lifting a large gym bag off the floor, he places the filled syringe inside. “I started paying someone I met online for a prescription after your mother and I learned that chloroform wasn’t a reliable anesthetic.” My head is starting to hurt. The amount of illegal shit we’re doing just keeps piling up. If I’m really honest, it infuriates me that they’re willing to risk mine and Adriel’s safety for this. He walks across the garage, adding rope and rolls of cellophane to the bag before popping open the trunk. “I brought the tools and implements to the church this morning, so we’ll change our clothes when we pick up your mom and sister.”

  “Do you ever feel guilty?” He til
ts his head, so I continue, “For taking away any chance they could have had to change?”

  He sighs, “I used to. Now, though, I’m certain we are removing those with souls that are so decayed, it’s too late for that. Truly wicked people are unable to change, Kai. Believe me.” His hands rest on my shoulders as he looks into my eyes. “Even so, I pray for them. I pray that if there is still an ounce of goodness left in them, God will grant them mercy. I suggest you do the same. My conscience on this is clear.” I nod, and he returns it before walking to the driver’s side. “We should get going.”

  The station wagon is thick with summer heat when we climb inside. I’m not as scared about kidnapping this woman as much as I am terrified to murder her. “Do I really have to kill this one? She’s a girl.”

  “Gender doesn’t make a person less evil, Malakai.” He reverses out of the driveway. “I think hearing about what these sinners do isn’t enough. You need to see it.”

  The way he says that sends fire to my fingertips. “What do you mean?”

  “We aren’t just going to grab her. She’s under the impression that we’re going to pay her to have sex with her eight-year-old daughter. Her selfish sins are delivering her right into the palms of our hands.”

  My fingers turn red with how hard I’m squeezing the door handle. “What will happen to the little girl?”

  “Hopefully she’ll be put in a safer environment.” Saying nothing, because what is there to say, I turn my head to look out the window. “I know this has been hard on you. Please believe me when I say this will change things for you.”

  I nod. Thankfully, he leaves me to my thoughts until we reach Des Moines.

  As he takes an exit, the signal clicks, and he says, “The woman’s name is Debbie. I told her we want to have the child together, so play the part until we’re in the little girl’s room. Debbie has already informed me that she will be remaining in the home. Once she believes we’re doing what we’re paying for, you can figure out how to make your move. The easiest way will be to incapacitate her first. I usually hit them on the head with something before injecting them.”

  Everything feels like it’s happening really fast, and my mind frantically searches for a way to get out of this. Of course, I want to help this little girl, I’m just not ready to kill her mother yet. “But I don’t even know where to put the needle.”

  He points to his arm, a few inches below his shoulder. “Get it in the muscle, right here. That’s always gotten the most consistent results for me.”

  He turns down a street called Akufa Boulevard, slowing in front of a shitty apartment complex. “Alright, I’m going to get the Xylazine syringe from the trunk. Since it could take up to ten minutes to take effect, use anything you can to keep her contained until then.” He grips my shoulder. “Please, Malakai, I need you to sell this. It’s the only way it’ll work. Act like the little girl turns you on. Okay?”

  My nervousness and apprehension over killing someone are traded for the doubt that I can pull this off. She’s fucking eight. Who would want that? How am I supposed to pretend to be something I can’t even wrap my head around? Still, with everything in my soul telling me this is wrong, I nod.

  “One last thing. I’m going to say and do things that are going to shock you. You need to know it’s just so this is seen through. All right?”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m proud of you, and I love you, Kai.”

  “I love you too, Dad.” I’m surprised at the emotions overtaking me. I’m confused by them actually. I want to make him proud of me, I want to save this little girl, but it still feels so horrible.

  He gets out, and I see him open the trunk in the rearview. My body feels heavy and sluggish, like I have to use all my energy to open the door and walk to him. The small case with the needle inside burns in my palm when he hands it to me.

  With the slam of the trunk and a final nod, he makes his way up the stairs where I follow him to apartment twenty-six. My lungs are inflating and deflating so fast I have to close my eyes to control my breathing.

  Seconds after he knocks, a blonde woman opens the door. Our eyes connect, and I think I might throw up. She doesn’t look like I’d imagined her. Her somewhat modest clothes are clean, and light makeup softens her face. Looking at her, I would never think she was the kind of person my dad says she is.

  “Hello.” Even her voice is unexpected. Its sultry with a seductive edge. “Harold Dean?”

  I glance at my father who nods, his grin widening his face in an unnatural way. “And you must be Debbie Wilder. This is my son, Jeremy.” I had no idea we were giving fake names which makes me nervous about what other surprises this little trip has in store.

  She opens the door wider, smiling as she holds out her arm in invitation. “Well, there’s someone ready to meet you. Come on in.” Winking at my dad, she adds, “She’s a lucky girl.”

  For the first time, the queasiness in my gut isn’t because of what I’m about to do—it’s because of what she believes we’re here to do.

  The second I step into the small living room, my eyes land on a little girl with flaxen hair. Her eyes look like they should be on someone much older. She glances between us, and I wish there was a way to tell her we aren’t here to do what she thinks.

  My dad groans, and I’m sure my eyes bulge when he grabs himself over his jeans. “Fuck, look at her.”

  I have to make her believe I’m down for this. Swallowing, I walk over to the girl, kneeling to her level and softly touch her arm. I try to comfort her while simultaneously appearing aroused.

  “This is Millie. What do you have to say to the nice men, sweetie?”

  Her eyes glaze over, making her little smile unsettling. “I can’t wait to suck your cocks,” she squeaks.

  It feels like a stone falls to my stomach, and I’m so grateful Debbie can’t see my face. I want Millie to know that I understand. That I know what she’s feeling, and I won’t do that to her. I grab her hand, making her eyes shift to mine. As slightly as I can, I shake my head, but her narrowed eyebrows tell me I’m just confusing her.

  My father laughs, sounding nothing like himself when he says, “Oh, neither can I, sugar.” I jerk my head back to look at him. How is he able to act like this? He turns to Debbie, handing her the payment. I wonder how much money is worth destroying her child’s mind and soul? The idea of her being too dead to hurt this girl anymore is becoming incredibly appealing. “Is there anything we can’t do?”

  She shakes her head. “You can put it anywhere. Just don’t hit her or leave marks.”

  I grind my teeth together, clenching my jaw. What my mother does to me is entangled with her actual love for me. What this woman is doing? This is purely for self-gain.

  He was right. Watching her sins is much more effective than simply hearing about them. I stand with Millie’s hand still in mine.

  “Can we get started?” The words taste like vomit in my mouth. I can’t do this much longer.

  They both look at me, and Dad laughs again. “That’s my boy. Impatient as ever.” He grins, telling me I did well.

  “Of course. Her room is that one right there.” She points behind Millie.

  Hopefully appearing eager, I pull her inside. Other than a bed, there’s not much in here—

  A couple stuffed animals and a few books. This poor little girl’s situation makes mine pale in comparison.

  Behind me, my dad walks in and shuts the door. When I turn to look at him, Millie’s fingers fumble with my jeans as she drops to her knees. I have to bite my tongue, so I don’t yell. Taking her hands off of me, I kneel on the floor in front of her.

  “We aren’t here to hurt you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry if we scared you.”

  Her misunderstanding makes her look angry. “What do you mean?”

  My dad sits next to me, speaking in a gentle voice. “What your mother is making you do is very bad.”

  Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m bad?”

  �
��No, sweetheart. Your mommy is. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

  She chews the inside of her mouth. “Okay.”

  When he stands, her eyes follow him, full of curiosity at his intentions. He picks up a book then sits against the wall, patting the floor next to him. “Do you want me to read you a story?

  Looking at me, she stands, still clearly uneasy about this unexpected turn of events. She hesitantly creeps across the room. When she sits, she leaves nearly a foot of space between them.

  My feelings about this have completely flipped. I’m going to enjoy torturing every last breath out of Debbie.

  There’s nothing in here substantial enough to hit her with. I wish I would have looked for something while I was in the living room. The syringe seems to pulse in my jeans, so I take it out, returning the empty case to my pocket.

  With my dad’s voice reading about a giant red dog, I slowly creak open Millie’s door. Since I don’t hear anything, I risk poking out my head. The living room is empty, but I notice there’s an urn on a shelf. Sneaking across the carpet, I cringe when the floor groans. I stop to look over my shoulder before grabbing the urn.

  Dishes clang behind me, alerting me of Debbie’s location. As quietly and quickly as I’m able to, I approach the kitchen and peer around the corner to see her. She’s smoking something in a glass pipe. Thick, white smoke billows from her lips as I grip the syringe against the urn. I get close enough that I’m about to hit her when she suddenly turns, her eyes widening at my stance.

  “What the fu—”

  My adrenaline kicks in, and I slam the brass jar against the side of her head. The pipe shatters on the linoleum as a stream of blood trickles from her hairline. Yelling, her hand goes to the point of impact before she stumbles, reaching for something to hold. The urn slips from my grip when I lunge, tackling her. She isn’t a large woman, so it doesn’t take excessive effort to keep her pinned down.

  “How?” I seethe. “How can you do that to your own child?!”

  “You don’t understand!” She weeps while fighting to get free from my grasp. “I’m sick!”

  Those words almost make me falter, but I keep my hold tight. “What do you mean?” Her eyes flash to the counter where a bag of clear crystals sits on the edge. “Your drugs?”