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!’

dashing for the bedroom. His mother snatches up the golf club,

‘Bitch!’

screams again, and

a while, the door slams.

out from under

slamming the bolts on the door, top and bottom, then rushes across. ‘It’s alright, Lamb. He’s gone now.’

Sobbing, ‘You’re bleeding, Mommy…’

nothing, Sweetie. Don’t

face with the cloth, squeezing warm soapy water. ‘Is

‘A bit.’

have a sleep. We'll

tell me

will.’ She’s talking all funny. ‘What story

one about the train

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

‘Mommy?’

It’ll be better in the morning.’ She pulls him close, humming as she strokes his hair. After a

*****

time for breakfast?’

‘Mommy?’

*****

The door bangs. ‘Fucking well open up. I know you're in there. Your car’s at the

the bolts straining on their screws

fuck?’ Fanning against a buzzing tide of

contents scattered: wrappers

one hand, swollen, the skin stretched

is she?

his head, tears trickling. ‘I don’t like

What the fuck’s that that supposed to

to sleep. She won't wake up and talk to me. I want her to tell me a story and she won’t. And

then charges around the apartment. As he pushes the bedroom door open, clouds of flies

closing the door behind him. ‘You

hunching small, trembling, listening to the clatter and the cursing from

and the man marches in, reaching down to haul him

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