Problem Child

Sometimes it’s really hard being a mother. I have a healthy family life as most would see from the outside.  Husband who works hard, a generous teaching job, and a son who’s a tiny copy of his father.

My husband could stand to work a little less.

Spend some time with the woman he married, you know.  I asked him to marry me, and it would be nice to have time together.  It makes me sad. But thankfully not depressed.  I’m afraid of that word.  Like, if I say it then I’ll find myself in a dark hole.

Or dark abyss…Nice set of words.  One of my students used it the other day. 

The whole town’s been a bit dark ever since the string of deaths.

If you haven’t heard, seven deaths in two months.  Three students, a neighbor, and three of my husband’s coworkers.  All died suddenly and strangely.  


I think I’ve known the causes for a while. One of those situations you always see in movies or books.  It happens, people die, but I refuse to accept the truth. Then I die. Classic movie scenario. I think a student wrote a short story recently about some of the deaths. Called it Into the Dust or something like that.Got an A. But, I digress.

I’m a bit scattered nowadays.  Mainly because I just found out my son is psychic.  

Not like read-your-palm or predict-your-future-with-my-magic-picture-cards psychic.  But, psychic-psychic.

My son just points at a person, anyone he sees and points at, and they die three days later.

It happened with the three students.  Three cheerful, overbearing, obnoxious bullies from my son’s school.  He never told me how they would push him around and get him in trouble. Kids as kids. Bad children do that. And bad parents turn a blind eye. Pick on others to feel better about themselves. It’s common yet no parent thinks it happens to their own kids. So talk to your kids, is what I’m saying.

I wished I had talked to him, maybe I could have convinced him to use his power for good.  Don’t know how, but we could have figured something out.

The neighbor kept on stealing my son’s stuff.  Skateboards, sports balls, anything that would happen to land near his house. The other day she kept my son’s favorite bike.  My husband and I were at work. You see where this is heading. 

The three coworkers were easy to figure out.  They were all people who had better jobs than my husband, as he would tell us all the time.  If they weren’t there, he would have more opportunities.  Again, you see where this is going.

I was trying to ignore it, even thought about talking to him.  Sitting him down and explaining how he couldn’t just wish people away without consequences.  

I was going to ignore it all.

I found his journal, didn’t know he had one.  Many personal stories in there.  He had a crush on a girl named Sarah. Cute girl. 

He planned more. Targets included Sarah’s current boyfriend, several more bullies, and even my boss. He made my mother unhappy. He wrote. Just like Dad.  He’s never around anymore.  I gave him a way to make more money.  That shouldn’t have meant he stayed at work more.  It’s unfair.  He makes her so unhappy.  I hate my so-called Dad.  

I saw him pointing at my husband two days ago. 
I tried to ignore it.  I really did.  
But it just didn’t matter anymore.

“Hey, Dillian, can you help me really quick?”

My finger was starting to fall asleep.  

It would take three days, but as I always tell him, patience is a virtue.  And it’s always better to see things coming.  That way, you can look back at your decisions.  Whether you’ve done good in your life or pointed one too many fingers.   

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