A perfect family

This story contains themes of substance abuse violence and domestic abuse

A perfect family. A mother, a father, a son and a daughter. Emerald, green eyes and rosy, red cheeks reflected from each of their faces to the camera lens. Perfect smiles lit up their faces as the bright flash of the camera cemented the joy in time. Later, they printed out the photo placed it in a shiny gold frame before hanging it up on the wall for all to see how perfect they were.

Years went by and the perfection continued at least on the outside. But cracks started to form on the picture frame! That delicate charade of perfection and joy came tumbling down, simply because the father discovered the bottle. He stayed up late yelled at his daughter and put hands on his wife. The other three trembled in fear as more cracks started to appear but the mother kept polishing that perfect frame.

Late one night the daughter lay in her bed tears falling down her ghostly pale skin. She was not naive to her father's drinking like her mother would have liked, she knew how pathetic and selfish it made him. He was not a father of compassion and love in fact he was a man who deserved no love for himself. She hated him with a furious passion. People like him were a cancer, they spoiled everything for everyone else and she was determined to spoil everything for him right back…

Weeks went by and the girl started to hatch a plan on how to make her father pay for his actions. She would murder him in cold blood. She would make him feel a great deal of pain. She would make me yell. She would plunge the knife into his chest a hundred times over until he stopped breathing, and lay back lifelessly. Or maybe she would pour boiling hot water on to his head. No that was too easy he deserved something worse she thought to herself. She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom whilst she thought of different ways, she could kill him. Her mind was reeling. Her heart was hammering right out of her chest it was so exciting, better than a rollercoaster even because the thrill lasted more than five seconds it lasted forever. It was true what they said revenge was a dish best served cold.

It was the night before she planned to carry out the murder. She went over the details in her mind. She knew her movements and what she had to do; she also knew that she would go to jail. She would be trapped behind bars for 25 years and she would deserve it. See she had too much hatred to live beyond jail, so she would kill her father and wait for the police with a cup of lemon tea. Lemon tea was so very symbolic. It reminded her of every night she couldn't sleep when she was younger. Her mom would make her some tea on nights like those and sing her song she couldn't remember the words, but she knew it would put her to sleep in a matter of seconds. Now when she couldn't sleep her mom would not make her some lemon tea or sing her song instead the daughter was left to cry herself to sleep whilst she listened to her mum get an ice pack for her bruises. Her mom didn't deserve that she deserved a man who loved her so the daughter would remove the cowardly husband her mother was stuck with from the picture.

It was time to kill her father. Twelve AM. A freshly sharpened kitchen knife in her hand. A brief wave of fear shot through her causing our hands to shake like leaves in the autumn breeze. She marched furiously through the house. There her father was, lying a coma toast on the couch an empty bottle of vodka lying in front of him. She plunged the knife into his arm. He woke up with a start and she began to stab him repeatedly laughing viciously as he screamed in agony. Finally, she was making him experience all the pain he had put his family through. She was finally torturing him, and she was enjoying it even more than she had expected. Eventually he slumped lifelessly against the couch he was drenched in blood, and he deserved it just like she deserved what would happen to her. She made her way to the kitchen leaving the bloody knife next to his body. She filled the kettle up with water and turned it on. Then she got a tea bag and placed it in a mug in preparation for the water, when the water had boiled, she poured it into the mug. The water began to turn yellow, so she placed the tea bag in the bin and sat at the kitchen table waiting patiently for the police. 

The mother stood in the doorway, she knew what her daughter done and even though it her sick to her stomach She appreciated the gesture. She knew that her daughter had done it because she loved her. She walked over to the kettle and began to sing the song she had used to help her daughter sleep when she was younger.“The moon is watching you. Feel its glow feel it love you just like I do little one Lie snug in your bed don't think just rest your head just rest my child I love you.            Don't question things just yet just lie there but I'll tell you this we won,don't ask what my dear but just know as you lie in your bed, I love you.” She placed a second cup of lemon tea next to her daughter who slumped against her in a deep sad sleep. The mother knew the police were coming and she knew she would lose her daughter, but she also knew her husband was dead forever and he deserved it just like her daughter deserved to be locked away behind bars permanently. She had to admit that no matter how hard it was it was true. The picture fell to the floor with a crash, the frame shattered, and that perfect picture vanished - they were nothing near perfect and they never would be.