La Mort et ses Merveilles ✔

3. Good Girls Die Young

La Mort et ses Merveilles

Chapter 3: Good Girls Die Young

Thomas. Amelia. Emily. Alice. Those were the names of the Bauers who had taken their own lives. I had fallen asleep at the dining table, my face sticky with tears and mucus. After downing a cup of black coffee, I searched through their belongings in the wee hours of the morning. I found out their names, I found out who they once were. It was the least I could do.

I spent the morning digging a grave in the backyard. As the sun began to rise, the faint morning light pouring through the windows, I dragged the stiff bodies down the stairs one by one. In the mother's arms, she clutched to a black book. A thick one, by the looks of it. Curious, I pried it from her cold, dead arms.

It was the Holy Bible. Without a word, I placed it aside on the sideboard.

Bringing them out to the yard, I lay them beside each other. The father, the mother, and the two little girls. Wiping the brow with my sleeve, I continued to fill the grave with dirt. The sun was out by the time I was done. I found some plywood in the shed, so I dug a little trench and plunged the board into the ground, hammering it in place.

Taking out the permanent marker from my pocket, I uncapped it and knelt in front of the plain plywood.

HERE LIES THE BAUER FAMILY

I paused for a moment. I didn't know these people, yet here I am enshrining their memories onto a headstone. The gravity of it all seemed to make the air heavier. But if I didn't do it, who would? I wrote down their names: Thomas, Amelia, Emily, Alice. Taking a step back, I observed the fresh grave. Yet still I felt something was missing. I knew almost nothing about these people.

Then I remembered the Bible Mrs Bauer had clutched against her chest in her dying moments. I wasn't particularly religious but I knelt down and wrote it down anyway.

MAY GOD GRANT THEM ETERNAL PEACE

It was probably what they would have wanted. My only regret was that I didn't get to know them better. But that was the tragic state of this world that we now lived in.

I returned to the house and began preparing breakfast. I looked through the freezer and decided to fry some bacon in a pan. Some fried eggs would've been great, but I just heated some baked beans from a can. Sure, it wasn't classic bacon and eggs but it was more than enough for me. I was busy slaving over the stove when my little sister appeared, walking down the stairs.

"The smell woke you up?" I asked, flashing a smile.

"Yeah," she replied, her expression still blank.

Maybe she was tired, I told myself. I didn't want to be disheartened again. Yet I couldn't help but felt that perhaps I was doing something wrong. As if I wasn't doing enough for her.

I brought two plates of bacon and baked beans and laid it in front of the table. I poured ourselves a glass of milk each. She didn't say anything and began to eat, so I did the same.

"I saw what you tried to do yesterday," she said out of the blue, stating it as a matter of fact.

"W-What?" I muttered, trying to feign ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please don't leave me," she said, looking at me with her glossy hazel eyes.

I let out a deep sigh, she knew after all. She saw me trying to take my own life. Trying to end my suffering.

"Look," I tried to explain to her. "That bite. . .I don't know how long I'm gonna last if I don't get a rabies vaccine. I just thought that you shouldn't see me suffer."