Wendy

Chapter 26: Shattered

Margret pressed the phone to her ear as she fought the waves of fear that washed over her. Something bad was about to happen and she had a sickening notion she was powerless to stop it. She had called Rose several times but she wasn't answering her calls. She had even called her mother and sent her messages apologizing for her disrespect but she didn't respond.

"Please pick, please pick." Her fingers trembled as she held Ken's business card and dialed his number.

He was her last option. It's been two days since she saw him at the hospital, two days since her sorrow and madness began to get worse. She began to pace about her living room in a bid to distract herself from the voices in her head. She really needed to speak with Ken. When he didn't answer at the third try, she flung the phone on the cushion and began to cry.

Sitting heavily in her seatee, she cradled her head in her small hands and shut her eyes.

"I'm going to die. I can feel it," Margret whispered brokenly as a voice in her head urged her to harm herself.

Why wouldn't Ken answer the phone?

Suddenly fury welled on her inside and for several seconds Margret stared ahead with a blank expression on her face. Her eyes swam with angry tears as she considered her predicament.

Ken claimed to be there for her if she needed to talk but when she needed him, he was nowhere to be found- just like Rose...just like Wendy.

Under the influence of unseen forces, Margret stood slowly and matched angrily to Wendy's room. She kicked the door open and studied the little blue room with animosity.

Destroy it all! Wipe out every memory of her! The Voices screamed in her head.

Letting out a strangled cry, Margret attacked the room like an enraged tigress. She knocked down the tiny dresser, sending several playthings crashing to the floor. With tears blurring her vision, she flung Wendy's pillows and stuffed toys to the floor and dragged the blue bed sheet off the bed, screaming all the while as she upturned the mattress.

Well done, Margret. You'll soon feel better. You don't deserve what's happening to you. You deserve to be free.

Turning wildly and heaving like a breathless warrior, Margret ripped Wendy's closet doors open and stared at its contents like it was filled with everything vile. She was driven by an intense urge to tear down the whole room- to tear down every memory of her daughter.

She began grabbing every clothing she saw; ripping some and flinging others that proved too difficult. She wailed like a child as pain and utter hopelessness wrenched her soul.

"There's no justice in this world. There is no justice," She muttered to herself, repeating the words through clenched teeth as she destroyed her daughter's clothing and felt oddly good about it.

"Why did you have to die? It's your fault. It's your fault!" Margret wailed as memories upon memories of her deceased daughter assailed her mind.

Weeping in frustration and confused anger, Margret pushed the closet down. It hit the floor with a dull thud as one of the doors broke from its hinges. She looked around sharply, looking for something- anything to destroy. Her eye caught a reflection of herself in the mirror; she remembered she had bought it only two days before Wendy died. Acting quickly, she grabbed Wendy's reading chair and flung it at the mirror. It shattered upon impact.

Good. That's our girl. You did well...very well. The voices in her head cooed.

Suddenly feeling drained of her energy, Margret staggered forward and fell to her knees. Looking down at the broken pieces of the mirror, she picked up a shard and stared at it in odd fascination. Running a thumb against the sharp edge, she sucked in a breath as it cut her thumb.