Those Who Kill

THOSE WHO KILL

by

Nare Agakhanyan Gharibi

Noelle spent Sunday afternoons at the local café observing people in their natural habitat. Her particular favorites were the mothers and their daughters who came by around 3 o’clock. They would have their arms full of shopping bags as they smiled to one another. 

Noelle longed for a similar relationship with her mother as she watched these strangers from a distance. In her twenty-seven years, she had almost forgotten what it felt to be a normal.

A year ago, Noelle’s father got sick. His coughs had morphed into unbearable chest pains and extreme fatigue. Her mother’s solution was to place him on cholesterol free diets or conjure home remedies. Nothing worked. All of the doctors thought her parents were paranoid and assured the disappearance of his symptoms within a month. 

All of her mother’s efforts were in vain. He died later that year, leaving Noelle with unresolved emotions and a blank space in her heart that would always remain vacant.

***

The dining table was covered in the old letters that Noelle’s father had written to her mother when they were in high school. The two of them had always been in love; Noelle couldn’t remember a time different. She sighed, I wish Pops was here, he’d know what to do. 

“Mom,” she called out while navigating her way through the clutter, “I see you’ve taken out the letters again. Maybe we should find permanent storage for them in the attic?” 

There was no response, only heavy breathing resonating from the kitchen. She turned the corner to find a puddle of drool. Not again, she thought.

“Mom, get up.” Noelle nudged her mother’s leg. Hard.

It had become normal for Noelle to come home and either find her mother unconscious or intoxicated with grief from reading her father’s letters. She knew the routine all too well. Noelle kept nudging the 200 pound body in hopes that her mother would wake up. 

She inwardly groaned, How am I supposed carry her? The blame for her mother’s back problems would fall onto her in the morning if she did nothing. Taking a deep breath, Noelle encircled her arms around the body and began to drag her upstairs, back into bed.

Only, she could not manage to carry the body that long of a distance. She settled her mother on the couch in the next room. Her arms burned.

She spent the next two hours preserving her father’s legacy by archiving his letters.

The next morning, Noelle prepared her own breakfast as she readied herself for another day of work. She recalled her father going to work when she was a teenager. He would leave early in the morning, but Noelle wanted to see him before he left. Therefore, her mother would wake her up extra early, so the first thing she could see was her father’s cleanly shaved face. Noelle smiled at the distant memory.

The house was never this silent in the mornings. Noelle could almost hear distant laughter emanating from the kitchen as her mother sizzled hash browns on the stove, her father reading the Sunday newspaper. 

“Pops, can we go to that café again?” 

“Sure kiddo, but eat your breakfast first,” said her father.

Noelle hastily finished her hash browns before she continued. 

“Can I get those strawberry milkshakes I like too?”

“Anything you want.” 

Her father chuckled as he ruffled Noelle’s hair.

Her mother turned around and caught Noelle sharing an affectionate moment with her father.

“Oh, wait! Don’t move, let me get the camera!” Her mother would not let them leave until they had their picture taken.

“Mom, that’s unnecessary,” said Noelle.

“No, I want a picture of my husband and my baby together,” said her mother.

“Mom,” whined Noelle. “I’m not a baby anymore, I’m eight years old.”

Her mother huffed.

“You’ll always be my baby. Now, pose for the camera.”

Click. Click.

Those memories disappeared once she heard snoring from her mother’s bedroom. She’ll probably be asleep until 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Noelle thought. 

At work, it was just another day at the law firm with endless piles of paperwork to be completed. Noelle had been asked to work overtime for two more hours in order to finish up some notes on a case. She dialed her mother to let her know that she would be home later than expected. The phone rang, but there was no answer. She left a message.

Three hours into the day, Noelle was called up to her supervisor’s office.

“Sir, I know the notes aren’t completed—”

“Sit down, Ms. Sterling. Do you know why you’re here?” His intimidating gaze meet Noelle’s.

“No sir, I do not.” She gulped.

“Today, the receptionist has received over 35 calls from your mother.”

Noelle’s breath hitched. I’m going to be fired because of her, she thought.

“It’s highly inappropriate, and this isn’t the first time your mother has called the office before.”

“Sir, I can assure you—”

He held up his hand.

“Ms. Sterling, I understand your circumstances.” 

Noelle let out a silent sigh of relief.

“I truly do sympathize with your father’s passing.” He looked down. 

“Ms. Sterling, you are a great asset to this law firm, but you need to consider the responsibilities of your position. Why don’t you take some time off to get things in order?”

Noelle nodded.

He looked up at Noelle. 

“Are we in agreement?”

“Yes, sir.”

The front door locked shut as Noelle set her briefcase down and took off her coat. The house seemed quiet like yesterday, but the atmosphere had shifted. 

“Mom, I’m home.” She waited for a response, but heard nothing. Not even the sound of breathing. 

“Mom?” She walked around the house in search of her mother, careful not to step on any of the letters that had found their place on the floor. She turned the corner to find her mother at the breakfast table with a knife and fork in hand, staring off into the distance. 

“Mom?” She waved her hand in front of her mother’s face.

 “Do you know how long I waited for you?”

Noelle’s shoulders tensed as her mother stood up, dropped the fork with the knife still in hand, and circled the mahogany table. 

“Over three hours and I don’t even get a call?”

“I did call, you didn’t respond.”

“You didn’t keep your promise. You said you’d be back in time for dinner.”

“I’m sorry, but we were working on this case—” 

“I made dinner for the two of us!”

Her mother brought down her hand and stabbed the table with the knife.

With her hands raised in a defensive position, Noelle slowly began to retreat while she tried to determine whether her mother was lucid or not.

Her mother drew closer. 

“Just put that newspaper down, why don’t you!”

“Mom—”

“I’m trying to talk you, honey. Why aren’t you listening to what the doctors are saying?”

“I—”

“You shouldn’t stay out too late, Robert. It’s not helping your heart—if anything it’s making it worse!”

She’s not lucid, Noelle thought. Noelle waited for her mother to continue lecturing her on “her” health and well-being. Noelle let her yell and scream all she wanted, just like any daughter would for their mother, until she was exhausted.

“Why don’t we get you into bed? How’s that sound?” 

Her mother vaguely nodded.

Noelle helped her mother into bed and turned the lights off. As she was closing the bedroom door, her mother mumbled, “I love you, Robert.” 

Noelle felt a tug at her heart. 

She steadied her voice before saying, “I love you, too.

***

Noelle awoke to the sound of someone yelling for help. It was middle of the night. She bolted out of her bed and ran to her mother’s bedroom.

Her mother was sitting upright in bed, screaming for her dead husband. 

Noelle rushed to her mother’s side.

“I’m here, Mom.” Noelle soothed the worried lines on her mother’s face while she caressed her sweaty back. “There, there. It’s okay, it was all a dream. You’re okay now.” 

Noelle murmured words of love as she pushed her mother’s shoulders back down toward the mattress. Once her mother started to doze, Noelle slowly crept toward the bedroom door.

“Don’t leave me, Robert. I beg of you!” her mother cried hysterically.

“I won’t leave you,” Noelle promised as she returned to her mother’s side. 

“You won’t leave me?” 

“I won’t leave you.”

Noelle pushed her mother’s shoes aside, and made a pillow out of the clean clothes next to the foot of her bead. She waited for her mother to fall asleep first, before she shut her eyes.

The week had gone by with no tantrums or her mother yelling at the crack of dawn, but that only made Noelle more anxious. Her mother had rarely gone five days without an incident. The worst, she knew, was yet to come.

“Mom,” Noelle called out.

“What do you want?” Her voice seemed to be coming from somewhere upstairs.

“I’m going out to the supermarket, do you want anything?” 

“Some Xanax would be nice.” 

“You know that we need a doctor to sign off on that order.”

“Then why’d you ask me? Get out of my house!”

Pops, I wish you could see us now, you’d want to run for the hills, she thought. Noelle locked the front door and left. She drove to the supermarket. 

Sunday drew closer. It was Noelle’s favorite day of the week. She had gotten up extra early and prepared a yellow floral dress to wear. She had even put on some makeup as she waited for the time to fast forward to 3 o’clock. 

When her father had died, her life felt incomplete. There was no way for Noelle to remember her father properly. She had letters written by her father, but they were addressed to her mother. Any of the photographs she had taken with her father were burned in the fireplace during one of her mother’s episodes. There was nothing left of him. She could only hold onto the memories they shared with one another. Once, her father had taken her to a local café that opened when she had turned eight. Noelle loved it, and it soon became their Sunday tradition to go to the café at 3 o’clock. How I wish I could go back in time just to see Pops alive and Mom happy, she thought.

The house was completely silent until the sound of heavy breathing emerged from her mother’s bedroom. She’s probably still sleeping, she thought. But I’d better check on her anyways.

“Mom, are you okay?” Noelle knocked as she tried opening the old bedroom door to find it locked.

“Mom?” Noelle’s heart pounded unsteadily. 

“If you don’t open the door, I’ll need to kick it down.” 

Noelle waited a couple of moments, but there was no movement from behind her mother’s bedroom door. Her breath hitched.

“Mom, that’s it. Stand back!” The door fell down with one blow as Noelle rushed into the pig sty of a room. There was no sign of her mother.

“Mom? Mom, where are you?” Her eyes searched for her mother, but there was still no sign of her. Then, she noticed the bathroom door to be slightly cracked open with the lights dimmed. Noelle edged closer and heard faint breathing. Thank God she’s okay, she thought. 

“Mom?” Noelle asked once more before the lights flickered on to reveal a puddle of dark red liquid.

“What did you do?!” Noelle crouched down as the lower half of her dress became drenched with blood. She scanned her mother frantically, looking for the source of the bleeding. Blood oozed down the left side of her body. Noelle lifted her mother’s head to her ear. She waited a moment too long before a small gust of air past her ear. She’s still breathing.

“I need you to stay awake,” said Noelle.

She began pinching her mother’s cheeks in an effort to bring her back into consciousness.

“Mom, please.” 

There was no response.

Noelle ran back into her mother’s bedroom and grabbed her phone to call an ambulance. Sirens wailed as the ambulance approached the house. 

Noelle rushed downstairs and opened the front door.

“She’s upstairs, hurry,” Noelle said.

The paramedics made their way upstairs and saw the grizzly scene for themselves. 

Carefully lifting Noelle’s mother off the slippery tiles, they placed her on the gurney. 

“We need to get you to a hospital right now,” said the paramedics.

“No,” mumbled her mother.

“Yes, you’re not going to argue with us,” said Noelle. 

“No,” her mother said louder. 

The paramedics looked back and forth between Noelle and her mother.

“Ignore her, she’s rarely lucid.” 

They nodded.

“Ma’am, are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

Noelle waited in her mother’s hospital room while they did her blood work and rushed her to the second floor for a CAT scan. She was finally given a moment to process the situation and looked down at her attire. She groaned. So much for my Sunday afternoon.

The doctor walked in shortly.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Meyer.” He held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Noelle, Diana Sterling’s daughter.”

“I’m here with your mother’s scan results.” He held a passive expression.

“Yes?” Noelle waited for Dr. Meyer to continue.

“How did she receive that injury to her head?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe she slipped in the shower and didn’t realize it until she got dressed.” 

Dr. Meyer nodded. “Humph.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

His facial expressions had shifted to that of confusion.

“How did you find her?”

“I was worried about her, I thought she had started going through my father’s letters again.” 

Dr. Meyer furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s a long story,” she said.

“Was your mother an alcoholic or did she take specific medication?”

“Other than Xanax?”  

“Yes,” said Dr. Meyer.

“She takes antidepressants, but that’s about it.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why are you asking?” 

The doctor took a deep breath. “We found more than a handful of anticonvulsant and antipsychotic drugs in her system, along with blood intoxication levels well above the norm.”

 “What did my mother’s scans reveal?” Noelle tapped her foot.

The doctor paused. “Ms. Sterling’s injury does not coincide with the situation you described to me.” 

Noelle blinked her blue eyes in surprise. 

“Our hospital’s psychologist believes that she wanted to commit suicide by lodging a razor in her ear, hence all the blood.”

Noelle felt bile burning the insides of her throat. A razor?

“With your permission, we’d like to start her mental health care by admitting her to our psych ward after she’s healed from the injury.”

Noelle nodded as Dr. Meyer left her. She tried to kill herself? Noelle couldn’t hold her bile any longer and ran to the nearest restroom, emptying out the contents of her stomach along with torn bits of her soul.

 “How are you feeling, Mom?” 

Her mother tilted her head towards Noelle who sat next to her hospital bed; she couldn’t hear well anymore. After trying to ask her a couple of more times, Noelle gave up.

“Dr. Meyer said that I’ll be going home today,” yelled her mother.

“He did,” Noelle yelled back. 

Her mother nodded and closed her eyes. 

“But they have a special treatment for you, Mom. I think you’ll be staying here for a few more weeks.”

“I want to go home.”

“I know you do, but this treatment will help you get better. We’ll talk more about this later.”

Noelle stayed with her mother until visiting hours were over. She had gotten up to leave when she felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Don’t leave, stay with me.”

Noelle looked down at her mother and removed the hand that was stuck to her shirt.

“Please…stay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”

Noelle ignored the protests that were coming from her mother as she stepped outside her room. Her mother began to wail and thrashed around in her restraints. 

“I paid for your college tuition!”

Noelle stopped walking towards the hospital exit.

“Your law school!

She turned her head toward her mother’s screams.

“I’m your mother, don’t you dare leave me here!”

With heavy steps, she made her way back to the hospital room.

Her mother peered at Noelle from her peripheral vision.

“I knew you would come back to me, Robert.”