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!’

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

‘Bitch!’

again,

door slams. It

from under

door, top and bottom, then rushes across. ‘It’s alright, Lamb. He’s gone now.’ Crouching down, she

Sobbing, ‘You’re bleeding, Mommy…’

nothing, Sweetie. Don’t

cloth, squeezing warm soapy water. ‘Is that

‘A bit.’

have a sleep. We'll both feel

tell

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

one about the train to the

then climbs in beside him. ‘Once upon a time, there was a little boy called

‘Mommy?’

just a bit tired, Sweetie. I'm going to go to sleep now. You sleep too. It’ll be better in the morning.’ She pulls

*****

hungry. Is it time for breakfast?’ But she doesn't answer, doesn't open her

‘Mommy?’

*****

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

the bolts straining

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

lies across the tiles, the contents scattered: wrappers licked clean, tins wiped, one trailing

small boy has an open gash on one hand, swollen, the skin stretched

she? Where's your

boy drops his head, tears

fuck’s that that supposed

up and talk to me. I want her to tell me a story and she

apartment. As he pushes the bedroom door open,

turns, grabs the little boy and pushes him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. ‘You stay

to the clatter and the cursing from beyond

marches in, reaching down to haul him up by the

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