One Apple A Day #127
Inspired by The Lambkin and the Little Fish from the Household Tales, by Brothers Grimm.
Mike and Jenny are playing outside, today. Like they did yesterday and the days before. There’s not much to do in this corner of this corner of the world in summer. She observes them from the kitchen window. She observes them, and she hates them. She hates everything about this place. When she met him at the fairs in town, she thought it was her lucky day. A widowed man, plenty of money, a big house in the country side with servants. Yes, she was aware of the two kids, but she didn’t care at that time. She was planning to leave them to a nanny or a tutor. She would have the comfortable life she dreamed since she was a child admiring the wealthy families from the filthy window of her tiny bedroom.
She underestimates how boring life can be in the countryside. It was like being in jail. She was rich. She could have everything she wanted, but she was buried in that old castle with nothing to talk with. The servants, she finds them all stupid and dull. Her husband is always somewhere else, working and making money.
And the kids. She hates the kids. Always so cheerful. They have lost their mother. They should be sad, silent and grieving. Instead, the run around the pond, singing and laughing. She can stand it anymore.
Something breaks in her head. Like the window of a submarine surrenders to the pressure of the water. It was a small crack at the beginning. But it grew, little by little, every day.
And finally, it breaks. And the hatred and the rage, without anything to keep them at bay, flood out.
And what once was only a whisper, is now a scream in her head. The kids must die.