Daisy Williamson gave birth to a dead baby six months later. She didn’t speak a word to anybody for a full year after that; not to her husband, not to her living child, not to her dying father. Only to The Father, but those words were spoken only in Daisy’s head, and they fell on deaf ears.
For a great long time, Daisy believed she was silently ignored by The Father, that her pleas for an explanation, for some kind of understanding of why her life had spiraled out of her control were outright refused to her. For a great long time, Daisy stayed inside her house, not speaking to anyone, hardly eating anything, hardly drinking anything. She did not take care of herself, yet she stayed healthy, all the while her family began to fall apart before her eyes. Her husband lost his patience for her, her son Hilter Odolf stopped knocking on her door to check on her. For a great long time, Daisy let her world crumble around her and did nothing to stop it.
Then, she decided to stop asking after The Father. She decided to do something to get His attention, to force his hand, to give Him no other choice but to save her.
Daisy Williamson murdered her husband in cold blood when her son was at school one day, and she hid his body in the meat locker in the basement.
In the days that followed the murder, Daisy often came out of her room to take care of her son. She made him his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner. She made sure he bathed, and brushed his teeth, and did his homework, all of which he would have done without her making sure he did so. She ignored him when he asked where his father went, she pretended she didn’t hear a single word out of his mouth. And one day, when little Hilter was at school, she took all of his stuffed animals and gutted them, using the fluff to stuff her slain husband like a taxidermy animal, and after burying the felt carcasses in the backyard, she set Chester up on the couch for her son to find.
But still The Father didn’t speak to her. So Daisy decided to start taking care of herself properly, to show The Father that she loved herself as much as The Father loved her; she started eating well and going for long distance runs to get exercise, and she was fast. Daisy hardly weighed more than one hundred pounds at that point in her life and she ran like the wind, or at least, she ran faster than the pets around the neighborhood. The very pets that began to disappear shortly after Daisy picked up her running habit.
When the neighbors started to complain about how their pets went missing after Daisy ran by their houses, she told them to fuck off and call the cops.
When the cops came and questioned Daisy, she told them to fuck off and stop harassing her.
When the cops brought dogs into Daisy’s backyard and found all the dead animals, she let them in the house and showed them her husband.
When the cops threatened to lock Daisy away, she convinced them that her son Hilter was the culprit, that he was a psychopath, that he was holding her here as a prisoner, that she ran all the time to train so she could escape him one day. The cops believed Daisy and Hilter was taken away, and Daisy hoped The Father would see that she did it all to prove to The Father that she loved herself, but The Father still didn’t speak to her.
When the neighborhood pets continued to disappear long after Hilter was taken away, the cops came back and took Daisy away, and she stayed taken away for a very long time. She made friends at the facility she was taken away to, and she was happy there. She still didn’t hear the voice of The Father, but she was happy. She was at peace with herself. Then, one fateful day, Daisy slipped deep into a catatonic semi-comatose state. Her son Hilter Odolf, who was released from his own facility when he was a child, who grew up to be a world-renowned expert on schizophrenia spectrum disorders – took her out of her facility and into his own care.
Today, Daisy Williamson lives alone in the basement of the house she grew up in, that same old house on Fricker Drive. Her son Hilter owns the house – Hilter Odolf Williamson owns all the houses on this street, as The Father loves Hilter Odolf Williamson. The Father does not love Daisy Williamson. Daisy’s hospice nurse – a woman who will one day give birth to a boy named Marty who will follow in her footsteps and become a hospice nurse himself – loves Daisy Williamson, but The Father does not love His pretty Daisy Williamson. Not anymore.
That’s what Daisy tells herself every morning, afternoon, and night as her consciousness floats just behind her eyes, patiently waiting for death: that The Father doesn’t love her anymore. And she starts to believe it, too.
Until she’s given a reason not to.
Hello Commons, this has been the third subchapter of the last story from Convenient Incidents, an anthology of fifteen interconnected short stories which revolve around a man by the name of Hilter Odolf Williamson.
Convenient Incidents is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.
Convenient Incidents is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
If you like Convenient Incidents and would like to help support my work, click here and buy an autographed copy of the book (or anything else!) from my store. Alternatively, you can snag a cheaper (and unsigned) copy from Amazon by clicking here OR you can buy the ebook for even cheaper here.
If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. Be well Commons~