MicroHorror

My sister was born in a caul falling apart in wrong hands. Better if drowned at birth–getting on my nerves, causing a sensation I didn’t like. She was special. Robbed me of the limelight, the lingering parental “Night Night” kisses. Mine just a peck, hers with a cuddle, a teasing squeeze: foretaste of intimacies–yet to come. Me only doing that on my own, anti-climaxing by myself–raped; ideal place, a graveyard.

Hated her for a long, long time–all in the past, dead and buried; got to her before she was: interred that is.

The caul falling apart in wrong hands; too many hands –falling apart. My fingernails bitten to the quick, and backs of my hands red-raw, my “Dettolled” digits itching and bleeding, but not my palms or wrists. No Stigmata–pity, more interesting than the bag my sister was carried in for nine months. Mum getting on in years, but not in life–nag nagging us to death.

In the cupboard–with family skeleton and a caul, was my mother’s wedding dress–another treasure–threatening to turn yellow: scared to expose it to the stale air. On my mother’s grave I swear that on her deathbed, she wanted me to wed in her gown, let down by me slightly taller than she–with a chip on my shoulder. It was agreed and decreed that me, being the eldest daughter, it was mine in which to marry–and be cut down to size–my kids to be christened in. Nobody was meant to be committed to the grave in it.

After I stripped my sister of her stolen shroud (sneaking into the parlor, spiriting her away–from the prayers and the candles–now the mourners slept–and all that palaver) I left her in the garden. Left her so the wildlife could strip her bones, and pick her brains, and peck out her eyes once dewy–now soft and gooey–shot with blood. Nightlife–highlife catching up with her.

Epitaph in blurred neon–(imprinted on the mind)–vandalized, defaced, hers ripped from her head by accident that served her bloody right, for trying to rip me off. Stealing my wedding gown, my fiancé and my hearts and flowers. Now she’s gone–not walking on air–nor water–one and the same.