“The jealous are possessed by a mad devil and a dull spirit at the same time.”
Johann Kaspar Lavater
Meg clutched the silver surgical scissors and with one swift slash, sliced Emma’s right temple. Emma’s violet eyes glazed over. She gripped Emma’s shoulders and shook her as she gawked at the bright red blood trickling down her pale pink cheeks. Meg narrowed her eyes.
“Die, my darling sister, die!”
The raw reminder that she could never bear a child laid next to their mother. It was Emma’s fault that Meg’s husband, Aiden, reviled her infertility. Meg dumped Emma’s infants onto the cold and dusty floor. The disregarded babies wailed and twitched.
Emma gulped, gurgled, and convulsed. Her face – a wrinkled mass of agony.
One final hideous gasp . . .
Meg rejoiced as Emma’s ghost abandoned her limp body.
“Bye-bye, Emma.” Meg cackled.
Then she seized the twins and hauled them out of their mother’s bedroom, spewing “I’m your Ma now.”
She would lay her bounty at Aiden’s feet, and he would worship her again.
Nancy Jean Walker © All rights reserved