“I want go to your father. I want to be with him. Can you understand that?” Harry stared at his mother. “Harry, there is something I have to tell you. Your father, he didn’t die from a car crash. He was killed. I killed him.” He looked up at her. Harry realised he hadn’t blinked for minutes. “I couldn’t have gone on without telling you the truth.” His mother was relieved at his subtle acceptance of the truth. She blinked back tears and said, “Take care of Kelly; I’ll be gone a long time.” He nodded. “Do just as I said, okay?”
She pulled him closer. He put his head into her lap which she stroked lovingly. “Promise me, this will be our little secret. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” “No, I won’t,” Harry promised. “Good. Good. It’ll all be over soon,” she whispered. Harry fell asleep.
“It’ll all be over soon.” Harry was jerked to wakefulness. The words coming from the penitentiary attendant’s mouth didn’t feel normal. There was a certain relief when mother had said it. Her’s only sent a chill up his spine. “Had a pretty little nap, didn’t we?” She grinned wickedly. “Let’s get it over with and none of the ‘I swear I didn’t do it shit’. So, why did you kill your parents?”
This story was written contributing to ‘Finish the Story‘ Collaboration by Tanmay Jain.
Today’s story was written inspired from the prompt by Tanmay: One day you’re sitting with your head in your mother’s lap and in the next you’re sitting in a holding cell waiting for the trial of her murder. What happened to me?