Klempner – The Present

Mine…

My daughter…

Mitch’s daughter…

Alexanders’ words haunt me…

You locked her in the dark with the corpses of the murdered...

I try to escape into sleep…

… The stinking breath

The blood-shot eyes, wild with rage

The fist…

Da... No...

And a scream of anger. ‘Leave him alone you bastard! Don't you touch him! Don’t you dare touch him…’

The smack of knuckles into flesh and another scream, now of pain…

‘Mommy! Don't hurt Mommy!’

The figure so tall…

The screams of pain becoming shrieks…

The smack of knuckles into flesh…

The little figure grabs for something… Anything…

… He swings the big metal stick with all his might, aiming for the ankles… ‘Stop hurting Mommy!’

A scream of rage and pain. ‘You little bastard!’

‘Run, Lamb, Hide!’

bedroom. His mother snatches

‘Bitch!’

again, and

the door slams. It goes

from under

across. ‘It’s alright,

Sobbing, ‘You’re bleeding, Mommy…’

Sweetie.

face with the cloth,

‘A bit.’

have a sleep. We'll both feel

you tell

She’s talking all funny. ‘What story would you

the train to the

beside him. ‘Once upon a time, there was a little boy called Larry....’ She speaks slowly,

‘Mommy?’

going to go to sleep now. You sleep too. It’ll be better in the morning.’ She pulls him close, humming as she strokes his hair. After a while, she stops humming and her hand falls

*****

hungry. Is it time for breakfast?’ But

‘Mommy?’

*****

up!’ The door bangs. ‘Fucking well open up. I know you're in there. Your

door bangs again, heaves; bangs and heaves, the bolts straining

steps in. ‘What the fuck?’ Fanning against a buzzing tide of bluebottles, he stares down at the small,

the contents scattered: wrappers licked clean, tins wiped, one trailing what looks

an open gash on one hand,

is she? Where's your

head, tears trickling.

fuck’s that that

won't wake up and talk to me. I want her to tell me

man gapes then charges around the apartment. As he pushes the bedroom door open, clouds of flies swarm up and through and

the little boy and pushes him into the bathroom, closing the

hunching small, trembling, listening to the clatter

and the man marches in, reaching down to haul him up by the injured hand which

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