Light, harsh and white, flooded my eyes. I blinked and the pain subsided, then a dreamy sensation took hold of me. My eye lashes felt gummy and I tried to blink again, but they were stuck together. My forehead stung.

At last I pried open my eyes. A groan rumbled deep in my parched throat. The ceiling was a dingy white and the mattress thin and hard. The sheets felt cool. The air was stale, with a sharp disinfectant smell, acrid and unpleasant. Underneath this was the coppery-sweet smell of blood. My nose tingled and I wrinkled it in distaste.

This skinny bed, this sterile, cold room, it all looked familiar now. The beeping sound was a machine that regulated saline water as it flowed into a patient's veins.

Not acid. Mother's dead now...

Nurses gave me an I.V. when Charlie was born. He came out backwards, you know, all wrinkled and red, soaked in blood.

They lifted him right out of my womb while I slept. Mother told me about it. Her voice was razor sharp, telling me again that she wanted me dead, and I wondered about the liquid dripping down the clear plastic tubing toward the exposed arm in my veins.

"You weak, pathetic thing. Look at the mewling, bloody mess you've brought into the world."...
"Shut up!" The strap across my chest kept me plastered to the bed. Mother faded, her whispering voice stilled for the moment.

Memories from over a decade past wouldn't help me now. How had I gotten here? Charlie was almost a teenager and I had another child, a sweet little girl just starting to talk back, taking the first steps toward independence. Karen was strong like her father, not a frightened little child, not like I was at her age.

Where were they? I closed my eyes tried to clear my muddled thoughts. The incessant beeping of the ivac disturbed me at first, but I shut it out. Go back. Go back to this morning, in the car, driving to school...

#
We were going down the highway and the kids started arguing, making too much noise. The traffic was horrible, crowding me, and Mother's whispering voice, always my unwanted companion, sounded louder than normal. I just wanted a little quiet.

My ugly words echoed in the close van, so harsh. Razor sharp, slicing into them. Karen's little face was pale in the rear view mirror. Her mouth was a thin line and her eyes, so brown, were wet with tears. I couldn’t stand to look at Charlie. My face burned and there was a hollow pit in my stomach. As my vision blurred I heard myself whisper, “Shut up, Lisa. God!”

Mother was right all along. I was no good. I tried to make excuses. I wanted to fight back, but she was right. She whispered again, her razor voice drowning out the radio, the sounds of traffic, tearing, ripping at me. Her teeth nipped the air as she set me straight. She knew where to lay the blame.

Crunch. Just like that, something ripped at me, tearing at my tongue. I cringed at the sound of teeth clicking as they snapped and chewed, eating at me.

Someone screamed. Lancing pain tore at my mouth and blood spurted all over the steering wheel, coating it. It slipped right out of my hand. The car swerved, throwing me to the left and there was a high-pitched squeal coming from underneath, punctuating the stench of burning rubber us as the car swerved. Karen’s scream was sharper than mine, drenched in fear, and Charlie shouted “Mom, no!” Then something plowed into us from behind and the metal screamed, tearing, crunching as it warped around us. It sounded dry, not wet like the noise in my mouth.

It sounded like Mother's voice. It sounded like death.

The wheel slammed into my chest like a rock. My breath shot out of my mouth, bubbling as it fought through a fountain of blood to escape my lips. My head snapped forward, impacting with something hard, and then smashed back into the seat, hurting the back of my head.

Something brushed my right shoulder. There was a smashing sound in front and to the right of me. Charlie. His head and shoulders were through the windshield. His feet kicked the head rest of the passenger seat, and then jerked in a horrid dance. As the world faded I heard my baby, Karen, wail somewhere behind me.

#
I guess I must have dreamed. Mom was talking to me. “You really are worthless.” She snarled, her eyes narrow and her lips drawn back to show pointed white teeth. I ran, as always in these dreams, and jerked awake.

My heart hammered against my chest, and I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

My body wasn't in pain so I tried to sit up. Something scratched my wrists, gripping them. I managed to raise my head and shoulders and called out, but the words were guttural, meaningless as they left my mouth. I couldn’t feel my tongue or teeth. Curious.

The room was quiet, except for a beeping sound behind my sore head, and a little to the right. Someone’s alarm clock was going off. Pale florescent light traced the length of a clear plastic tube as it thread from beneath a bandage on the back of my right hand.

Charlie's legs, jerking as he lay half through the wind shield...

Mother hovered over my left shoulder. "You're tied down like an animal." Her teeth flashed. They snapped together, "click-click", blade against blade and she laughed.

“You can’t do anything right. God gives you two beautiful children and you shred them in a car accident. Stupid woman.”

Pressure gripped my chest, and a sharp little rap struck my breastbone, tiny bites that made the fear more intense. Yes, it was fear. My head throbbed and I remembered the car. The blood. God? Where were my kids?

Karen would be crying. She scared easily. Was she all right?

Charlie, he went through the wind shield.

I struggled, twisting and thrashing, but I couldn’t get up. A curious whining sound filled the room and something grated in my throat. Was that me? White cuffs wrapped around my wrists. They were tied to something under the bed, strapping me down like a beast.

Karen would be crying for her mother. "Damn it!" The words sounded like complete gibberish.

There wasn't anything inside my mouth. It wasn’t numb, like a shot from the dentist, there just wasn’t anything there.

Memories like flashes, riddled me with terror. Blood spurting from my mouth, splashing across the shattered wind shield, pooled in my lap, and the tearing, ripping pain.

Cold tears flowed down my cheeks. I screeched, tasting salt and spitting the tears out. What was happening? Did I bite my own tongue out? Was Mother right? Did I kill my kids? God, where were they?

Why did I have to scream at them? I slammed my head down against the bed, knocking the pillow aside. My kids didn’t deserve to be treated like that. They’d been fighting, but so what? Kids fight. I was a terrible mother. I should have never had kids.

Something tore in my abdomen. It was worse than labor. Liquid gush out from between my legs with a scalding heat, and I deserved it. I killed my kids. I didn’t deserve to have any more.

The pain was exquisite. I tried to double up to alleviate this ripping, lancing in my gut but my wrists held me down. My legs jerked up and my knees slammed into my chest. Tears blurred everything around me. I could feel the vibrations in the back of my throat as I tried to scream. I heard someone shout and a distorted figure rushed close to me. The bed jerked and everything vanished.

#
Waking wasn’t as rough this time. I was still on my back in the white room, but I couldn’t feel the cuffs on my wrists any longer. It didn’t seem to matter. The world was calm and I was so sleepy. Blinking, I tried to clear my eyes. They stayed unfocused.

I heard my husband’s voice, close. He sounded distant, as though he was speaking on the phone. I followed the sound, tracking it with my eyes, and saw him sitting right next to my bed.

Dark patches under his eyes made them looked bruised. His five o’clock shadow was ginger-colored, matching his ruffled blond hair. “Hello, beautiful.”

His fear was a vibrant thing. I wanted to reassure Tom, but then his words sank in and I laughed, knowing that I looked anything but beautiful. Poor Tom, he always was a terrible liar. He shouldn’t have to try to make me feel better. I had killed the man’s children. He should hate me. My throat tightened.

Something hit me with a jerking motion. There was a tearing, ripping sound. I sucked in air but it whistled through my open chest. I could hear the blood bubbling up into the gap and felt it seep under the covers, along my arm, hot and wet.

Tom’s gray eyes widened. His face blanched. I heard him yell and felt the bed move as he surged to his feet, knocking his chair aside. His mouth yawned open and he scrambled backwards.

Next he shouted for help. An acid hand clawed at my chest and I whimpered. Crunch. Blood, bright red blood, arced high and spattered him in the face. He staggered back against the wall and shouted for help.

I couldn’t explain it to him but the pain let up and I felt absolved. As I watched my arm fall from the wet mattress, I glanced down and saw the sheet was flat. Most of my torso was gone. My legs lay discarded on the bed.

The crisp white sheets were drenched in my blood. They would be ruined now. Poor Tom would have to pay to replace them.

God! A sharp, gut-tearing pain ripped through my skull and I heard Mom's bitter voice. "You cost him his children, and now you're going to cause him more trouble? Leave the poor man alone, Lisa. Get out of his life!"

My world spun, a dizzying blur of black laced with acid pain. I'd never heard Tom scream like that. He cried out, "What's happening? Please, someone help us. What's killing her? Someone, stop this!"

I welcomed the darkness that engulfed me. Did Mother die like this?

The sound of her laughter filled me with loathing. It had that touch of bitter satisfaction I grew up hating, but this time it didn't bother me. My sense of relief outweighed anything Mother could have done. I was grateful to die before my stupidity killed Tom, too.

One final, searing pain in my head blocked all thought and I slipped into death, the final payment for a wasted life, stolen from whatever Gods created me. A darkness surrounded me, empty save for my soul, a threatening silence. Voids are meant to be filled.

I could feel Mother ripping into the space around me, chewing her way in. Her voice sliced through me; malevolent, inevitable. "Lisa."

"Okay, Mother, it's over. I can't hurt anyone else and I can't be hurt. Go away and leave me in peace."
Mother's voice echoed throughout my being. "Silly girl. You didn't kill Karen."
"But, I thought..."

"No, she made it through surgery. Of course, she caused the accident that killed Charlie and you. All that whining and yelling at her brother; it made you lose control of the car. You told her a hundred times not to argue with Charlie. "
"Mother, no!"

"Don't worry, dear. I'll be sure to remind her of her guilt." Mother's laughter faded, and I was left alone with the sound of my weeping.

END