MicroHorror

Rose had been dreaming of blue skies and luxury. She was yanked from that utopia by the sound of something breaking downstairs. The paradise was forgotten as she was delivered back to her purgatory. Rose got up and went to see what Beth had broken this time. 

Beth, all of five years old. So sweet when asked her age, she’d lift up a hand with all the fingers splayed and tell folks, “That old.”

Not so sweet now as she stood over a broken cereal bowl. 

“I’m hungry.” No please, no nothing. Just a declaration of the state of her tummy.

Rose took a steadying breath. It was just a phase. It might just have been a phase but it was the third bowl this week that she’d broken just to get her attention. Beth camouflaged it behind the innocent, I wanted to make it myself like a big girl. She wasn’t fooling Rose. Her behavior was getting unbearable. 

Yesterday Beth had flushed her fish down the toilet. Poor Mr. Bigfin hadn’t even been dead. 

Rose bent and picked up the broken pieces. Beth pulled her hair, 

“I said I was hungry!” She didn’t let go. Rose prised Beth’s fingers from her locks, 

“You’re a nasty little girl.” She immediately regretted it. Beth watched Rose bin the debris and start on fixing breakfast.

“You know that Father Christmas doesn’t give presents to bad little girls, don’t you?” She’d been using that threat throughout the run-up to Christmas. Today was Christmas Eve. Beth hummed as she shoveled cereal in. Dancing her head from left to right, singing. 

“Yes he will.” 

“No he won’t!” Rose was getting to the end of her tether.

“Oh yes he will, Mummy,” said Beth.

Rose hadn’t been paying attention to the toaster–you had to keep an eye on it. The smoke alarm let her know that the toast was ready, for the bin. Beth found it funny as Mummy had to stand on a chair and remove the battery from the alarm. 

Breakfast was done with. Rose set about washing the dishes. She would have liked Beth’s help but that would have ended in carnage.

“I’m going to play with Mr. Furrytail,” she declared.

Mr. Furrytail was her pet gerbil. Rose knew she should find it a new home after what the little beast had done the previous day. The thought of the tantrums that would ensue made her reluctant. 

“Don’t take him out of the cage.” 

“Oh, I won’t.” She trundled out with her pigtails swinging. 

It was quiet. Too quiet. Rose walked through to the lounge. Rose was nearly sick as she grabbed the rest of the matches out of Beth’s hand. 

Beth was screaming. Rose sat on the toilet crying. She had never raised a hand to Beth before. It had just been so cruel. Rose had lost it and slapped Beth hard about the face. Beth had been stunned. Rose phoned up a charity to tell them she had presents for the children in hospital and to come and get them. 

Every single present she had given to the charity. Beth had fought to stop them being given away and in defeat had run to her room to tantrum, brawl and break things up. 

Christmas Eve became a disaster. Beth locked herself in her room and threatened to do all manner of horrible things to herself and to Rose. Rose retired to her own room and wept herself to sleep. 

Christmas morning and Beth sang a happy tune as she opened up one of the presents from her mother. It was a Loving Dolly Lotte, just as she had asked for. The nurse smiled, glad that the little girl liked her present. All their thoughts were with her mother in the burns unit, hoping that she pulled through. The nurse wondered, why-oh-why did people take the batteries out of smoke alarms? And why-oh-why did people leave matches lying around.