Tapeworm

It was easy after the girl. That worked out a bit better than I'd planned. I thought she might just get a broken leg, best case. Most likely, just some scrapes, and a lot of tears and snot. I thought I wouldn't have to sit through another evening listening to her prattle on about ponies. Well. I was right about that part. A broken neck? I knew it was possible, but I'd never imagined that might actually happen. Little nudges here and there, things moved or tampered with, a little pressure, some guilt... These things had got the father's arm in plaster, and sprained his ankle...but never actually claimed a life. I felt giddy when I heard. She'd died! Actually died! I did that! Me! It was a rush I hadn't expected. And it had happened while I'd been nowhere near. It wouldn't be connected to me at all. I'd got away with it! Another rush, nearly as powerful. Nearly enough to knock me off my feet. The baby wasn't so good. I mean, it's hardly a person is it? And it might not have been me. They ruled it cot death. Babies do die of that. Case in point, really. What kind of pathetic creature is in danger from sleeping of all things? Ridiculous. The father was even less good than that. For one, he's still breathing. He walked out of here on two good legs. OK, it was probably my fault, or mostly. But it didn't feel like it. I didn't think I'd get away with the death of another child, but I let the cogs turn in my brain, and kept my eyes open for a likely opportunity. If nothing presented itself, well, that was okay. For now. Maybe I'd push them out, manipulate them into living with their father. Or maybe I'd get rid of him properly. Make it look like he did a runner. Let them spend their lives looking for someone beyond reach. I'd intended to break her, the mother, but I hadn't counted on being so quick about it. Nor so thorough. Ah, well. I guess I get to see just how far a person can break. I'm torn between getting clean away with it, and letting her suspect just a little. Maybe I'll hont 1 might have had something to do with her daughter dying. See what effect that has. How much would she hate herself if she started believing it? After she's been sleeping with me? I bet sheld keep doing it though. I bet I could make her. I mean, she barely wants to now. You know, I reckon she could break a bit more. She's already looking hallow and scattered, how hard can it be to nudge her closer to madness? Just in case she does try to accuse me. The best part is only just dawning on me. I don't feel like a mis-matched puzzle piece anymore. I feel like I actually belong. This is my house now. She's mine. Soon, there'll be another baby (mine). I heard, as women get older, their chance of conceiving twins goes up. Wouldn't that be delicious? Replace those two in one go. It's all that, and more. It's this: She's as broken as I am, now. They all are.