Chapter 16

Tonight was just one of those nights when sleep was playing hide and seek with Margaret. She lay on her bed wide-eyed, admiring Emilia's spectacular ceiling choice for her room. She followed the wheat designs on her white ceiling with her goldish brown eyes, thinking about home. Emilia had particularly chosen this design for that exact same reason.

Margaret's mind drifted off to tough farm life in California under the scorching heat. The smell of hay and wheat that comforted her, the persistent neighs of the horses in the stables and the distinct vanilla smell that followed her mother wherever she went.

Her mother was a strong woman. A woman that had given up city life in Boston for the sake of her daughter's safety and had moved to California where she had taken over her brother's struggling farm and had made it thrive with much difficulty. Margaret wished that she would be back in her mother's tight embrace. She wished that her mother would scold her for licking the bowl with the cake batter before she could put it in the oven but that was never going to happen again.

Unbidden, the images of the fire that had destroyed everything came to the forefront of her mind, taunting her. Eight years ago, a fire had broken out on the farm killing her mother who had gone back into the blazing farmhouse to save some of the workers. Margaret loved to think that her mother had died a hero but that did not stop the bitter pang of loss that followed her wherever she went, the feeling of loneliness that swirled around her like a tornado. Ever since that day, she always felt like the outsider looking in. Maybe that's why she had saved Elaine that day. Maybe she was selfish for saving Elaine so that she could have her own family after all, her real family had rejected her.

The Houghtons had thrown her out of their luxurious double storeyed house in Mattapan the very day she had come to meet them after finding out from her mother's attorney that her father was not dead as she had been made to believe rather he was in Mattapan playing the family man with his legitimate family. They had accused her of only wanting money from them and her own half brother had thrown ten thousand dollars in her face as a parting gift.

Margaret didn't care about them though because she had built her own little family. Emilia was her daughter, of whom she was very proud because she had managed to fulfill her dreams despite her tragic past. There were two other members of her pseudo family; Gregory, Emilia's oldest friend and Andrew. Gregory owned and managed a car dealership in Boston while Andrew worked for Gregory as a salesman. They both identified themselves as lost souls with no families and Margaret had taken them in. All together, they formed a little family of strays.

Margaret continued staring at the white ceiling of her room praying for atleast three hours of sleep before she had to wake up and go to work and it seemed like God was finally listening to her prayer. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her muscles relaxed. It was a soothing experience as she finally boarded the sleep train.

BANG

Margaret was out of her bed before she fully woke up. She had heard a crash in her own house. She peeped at her driveway through her silky red curtains and saw a delivery vehicle parked at the end of the street. This vehicle clearly didn't belong in this neighborhood. Margaret was 99.9% sure that the killer was in her house and she would be caught dead before she allowed the killer to get the best of her.

Margaret was a fighter but she was also not stupid. She picked up her phone and dialled 911. A female voice spoke from the other side.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"Weymouth road,  Park Lane. Plot number 23." Margaret whispered. She prayed that the woman on the other end had heard her rattle off her address and hung up.

Margaret made use of the light from the streetlights seeping through her curtains and located her shotgun on the top of her pine wood closet. She pushed aside her mattress and loaded up the gun with the bullets she had sequestered under it then left her room to locate the killer.

The darkness was going to work in her favor so she had to befriend it, she had to make it her best friend. She felt around till she reached the room where Elizabeth was supposed to be sleeping.  Margaret got a mini–stroke when she saw Elizabeth's bed empty. The sheets were rumpled meaning that they had been slept in. She had to find Elizabeth soon. She could not fail Emilia. Margaret tiptoed down the stairs in her bare feet, shot gun in front of her ready to be fired when the chance presented himself. The stairs did not betray her by creaking. She whispered another prayer, this time a prayer of thanks.

Humming? Margaret could hear humming. It was from the dining room and this made Margaret smile because the dining room was the only room in the house with two entrances which also served as exits. One from the living room and the other from the kitchen. This could both work in her favor or against her. Margaret walked to the first door —the one from the living room to find it closed though not locked. She slid the bronze lock into place. Yet again, it did not betray her as it slid into place without as much as a squeak. She tiptoed again to the other door. This one was slightly ajar. This meant that he had entered her house through the kitchen. Indeed as she looked towards the kitchen, she saw that her door was non- existent. How had he taken out her entire door without her waking up?

Time for action, Margaret thought to herself. She pushed the second door to the dining room open and pointed the shotgun to the killer who was calmly sitted on one of her dining room chairs cleaning his gun and munching an apple. The killer cocked his head to the side when he saw her and then his head dropped and his shoulders shook. He was crying? Why? The killer lifted his head and Margaret could not mask the horror that paralysed her features when she saw that the killer was not crying but laughing. He was laughing at her.

"Are you going to kill your own nephew?" The killer said as he snapped on the light. The blinding orange lights spread through the small dining room, illuminating it. Somehow Margaret's mind was not catching on to what he was saying.

"Greg–"

"Yes, Walter Gregory Houghton." Walter completed. Margaret's heart was working in a spin cycle. Her brain was struggling to come to terms with the fact that Gregory, the person she had considered her family was in reality her legitimate family and a killer in addition to that."

"Nice place you have here." Gregory said as he looked around the dining room space as if he had not been here before.

"Why?" Margaret couldn't find what else to say? She was shaking all over. The shotgun cluttered to the floor. So much for a powerful weapon.

"You mean why am I destroying Emil–Elaine's life or why am I here?" Gregory asked as he waved his gun around like a fairy does a magic wand.

"Both." Margaret said. Her eyes darted around the small dining room looking for a way to defend herself because if she bent down to retrieve her shotgun she would surely not be coming back up.

"Elaine and I have unfinished business. She knows that. As for you, I am here for two things. One, is already in the back of the delivery van and the second reason I am here, is to pay a special homage to the woman who played a big role in hiding Elaine from me. I must admit you did a great job."

Margaret was still looking for a way out. She needed to find a way of disarming Gregory so that she could get out and save Elizabeth. A thought struck her. She wasn't that much of a light sleeper and plus, it would take a lot of strength to carry Elizabeth out of her house without making a noise. It would only work if Gregory had a partner.

"Who is your partner?" Margaret asked even though she already knew who it was.

"What?" Gregory was completely thrown by the question.

Margaret grinned because she had achieved her goal. She ran towards him head first. Gregory didn't have much time to react and she hit him sending them both careening into the cupboards. She was on top of him, punching, scratching and kicking him but Gregory soon overpowered her and thew her into the cupboard. Her head banged the cupboard and blood began to flow down the right side of her face.

Police sirens wailed in the distance.

"You fucking called the police?" Gregory snarled. He picked one of the knives from the kitchen drawer and plunged it into her stomach. Pain pulsed through Margaret's whole body. The pain forced her to heave but nothing came out. Margaret had failed Emilia. She had failed her daughter and  had lost to a killer. Her legitimate nephew had stabbed her.

Gregory fled her house before the police got there just as Margaret sagged against the drawers. For once, Margaret wanted to give up fighting. She wanted to reunite with her mother. The world had rejected her and she now wanted to go where she belonged. Her eyelids fluttered closed, a final surrender to the pressures of this evil world and then she sighed.

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I honestly didn't want this chapter to end this way but Gregory was dying to do this so...I let him. Drop a vote if you liked the chapter

~Victor