Tales of the Blood Moon

I Wonder...

I wonder whythey all came?

She would havebeen here too, had I not killed her. Everyone else arrived for myfortieth birthday party, but I'm not sure why. The way things havebeen recently, I can't imagine anyone would find me good company. Ofcourse, I wouldn't blame them if they hadn't shown. I wouldn't blameanyone for not wanting to celebrate the birthday of a murderer.

I wonder howone person could have been so wonderful?

She was simply ajoy to behold, but still I killed her. She was so young and sobeautiful. I can still see the freckles on her nose and the playfulgrin that danced across her face when she thought she was gettingaway with something. I can still hear her boisterous laughter in mymind. I can still smell her hair, fragrant with the strawberryshampoo she loved so much.

I wonder iftrust is a blessing or a curse?

She trusted me andI killed her. I can still see her looking over to me for reassuranceduring soccer practice. I can still hear the deep breath she tookbefore jumping into the pool after I told her I'd be with her thewhole time. I can still feel her little hand holding mine, trustingme completely.

I wonder ifanything we do even matters?

She worked hard sothat one day she could be good at so many things but, in the end, Ikilled her. I can still see her, furrowing her brow as she practicedthe violin. I can still taste the batch of cookies she finally gotright after the third attempt.

I wonder ifI'll ever find any peace?

I killed her, andI tell myself that she's found peace. I remember staring down at hersmall, lifeless form, hoping she'd found peace. I remember sittingalone in the den and crying, wishing that death would come and giveme peace. I don't know if it has anything to do with the impendingred moon everyone keeps talking about, but I know that today, afterfour agonizing months, I must find peace.

I wonder ifit's going to hurt?

She wasn'thurting, not when I killed her. I've certainly been hurtingever since that day, but I don't think anyone else realized it. Maybe they were too caught up in their own grief to notice? When thepizza delivery guy showed up, I told everyone I was going up to thebasement to get some extra chairs so everybody would have a place tosit. It's odd but, from the look on his face, it seemed like the kiddelivering the pizzas was the only one who could tell I wouldn't becoming out of the basement alive.

I wonder why Icouldn't have been stronger?

I wonder why Ibroke down and killed her? I wonder why it had to be my daughter whohad to suffer for my family's hereditary heart condition? I wonderwhy it had to be my daughter who had to fall into a coma? I wonderwhy it had to fall on me to decide, after six unresponsive weeks, topull the plug? I wonder why I had to be strong, so everyone elsecould be weak, when all I wanted to do was scream and cry? The lastthing I wonder, as I step off the chair and the rope around my necktightens and sends me into the darkness, is if she and I will bereunited so I can beg her forgiveness?