Pop goes the weasel

Like so many nights before, I woke up, terrified and have no idea why. I never know why, just that it has something to do with the dream that I can never remember. Rolling over, I glance at the clock.

1:36

i sigh and turn on the bedside lamp, grabbing the picture that sat below it. I gaze at it for a moment.

Eight months.

It has been eight months since Lucy had been taken, yet it stll hurts though it had happened yesterday. That wasn't much of a surprise, after all, a mother never gets over losing her child.

Neither does a father.

I vaguely wonder where my husband is, but push it out of my mind with an excuse. Something generic and half believed.

He must be in the bathroom.

Turning off the light, I make an attempt to get back to sleep. I push troubling thoughts away as I try. I nearly succeed too.

Until I hear it.

The sound of a child's song filtering from downstairs. A song that was achingly familar.

All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey though it was all for fun.

The song stops there and I sit up, staring at the door. There is absolutely no denying it.... That was her voice.... But how is that possible? It can't be...

It's her favorite song

It was definitely her voice, but it sounded very odd, slightly garbled. I get up from the bed and stand in front of the door, my hand on the knob. I stop for a moment, my instincts screaming at me not to open the door.

Just go back to bed.

I twist the knob, fearing the worse and not knowing why. I cautiously peek through the crack, trying to see into the hallway.

Nothing but darkness.

I sigh and walk out of my room, starting down the hall with careful steps. My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and I shake my head. I'm being foolish, I'm not afraid of the dark.

Just what's in it.

Before I get to the stairs, my foot sinks into something hot and wet. I refuse to look down as the smell hits me,  the crimson liquid crawls up the skin of my leg. I block it out and wipe my foot on the carpet, making yet another excuse.  It was just the dog.... It went on the floor.

There is no dog.

Shivering, I quietly slip down the stairs and to the living room where the singing has started again. It always cuts off at the same place, never finishing. I follow the voice, stopping by the table, unable to move any further.

It was sitting on the couch.

Hot tears drip down my face as I looked at the back of her head, that exact color of brown hair that made my chest hurt.

"Lulu?"

The girl on the couch turns around and smiles at the familiar nickname. I back away a few steps, a cry escaping my throat and slipping past my lips. It can't be. That is absolutely not Lucy. Not my daughter. It can't be.

Its only wearing her face.

But even that was mangled and twisted. I run my eys over the patch work skin, the lips that are stitched together and every scar. Even the legs that stuck out of the ripped, gray, woolen dress have been stitched together. Stitches pull apart as Lulu opens her mouth to speak.

"Why did you let it happen mommy?" 

It felt as though I'd eaten cotton as my heart nearly stopped.

"What?"

The girl gets up from the couch, walking around the couch towards me. On instinct I back up a few more steps.

"You let it happen...." She keeps getting closer. "You know who it was.... You could have stopped him...." 

I continue to back away, one foot on the bottom step. "I-I don't know."

Thats not true.

"You do." Lulu is at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me, now at the top.

"Mommy lied."

Shes on the third step.

"It's time for mommy's punishment."

Halfway up.

I refuse to listen anymore, I turn and blindly race down the hall. I step in the dark spot once more, my foot slipping slightly.

A father never forgets.

I run to the study and shut the door, ducking behind the desk. My breath gets stuck in my throat, I can hear her coming.

All around the mulberry bush

She's in the hall.

The monkey chased the weasel

Right outside the door.

The monkey though it was all for fun

Dont come in.

The songs stops and I don't dare to move. I hear nothing more as tears silently slip down my face, a terrible truth going through my mind.

She knows.

The door creaks open and I don't even have time to scream as Lulu appears behind the desk. She says nothing and just stands there, smiling gruesomely.

That once pretty smile.

I can't even breathe now. I can feel the blood vessels burst, causing blood to run down my cheeks and drip out of my ears. The blood chokes me as it fills my lungs and pours from my mouth. I can tell that I'm swelling, every part of my body is staring to expand. It's as though I'm too deep under water, the pressure is unbearable.

Something is going to break.

I look at my arm in horror. It's back and red, filling with blood. My blood. There's way too much of it and it has no where to go. It gets bigger and bigger as I watch. I feel my bones dislocate and hear a few of them snap. The pressure continues to increase and I feel like I'm ripping apart.

She sits there smiling.

The very last thing I hear before I finally come undone. Before I become nothing more than an unrecognizable, gory splatter on the wall.

Pop goes the weasel.