On Saturday morning, wrapped in my favorite black and white teddy bear blanket, I planned to kill my sister.
On Sunday morning, I spooned soggy cornflakes into my mouth. I looked at my sister and imagined what it would feel to plunge a serrated knife into her caramel skin.
On Monday morning, I imagined dousing her in kerosene and seeing her being licked alive by orangish-yellow flames.
On Tuesday morning, after breakfast, I hid her favorite blue slippers.
On Wednesday morning, she was all sniffles and red-eyed at breakfast. “Why are you crying, you wimp?” I asked her. She mumbled, “Can’t find my slippers.” I couldn’t reply because my mouth was crammed with lentil pancake and chutney.
On Thursday morning, I told her I would help her to find her slippers. She smiled like an overjoyed pixie.
On Friday morning, I told her we should start looking for the slippers on the terrace. “I think I saw the cat drag it up there.” She believed me. That stupid fool. There was no cat. At least not much of it, which still rested at the bottom of my glass jar stashed away in my secret place. We searched the terrace. The corners were mossy green and slippery from last night’s rain. She was leaning over the parapet, her back towards me. A fall from the third-floor terrace on the concrete guaranteed a satisfying thud and crunch of bones, I read somewhere. I stretched out my hands until my fingers grazed her top. I heard footsteps and stopped. “What are you two doing here?” Our mother asked.
“Helping her look for her slippers,” I said innocently.
“I found them in the storeroom, amidst the storage boxes. I wonder how it got there.” She said holding a pair of mangled slippers and looking at me in a funny way.
On Saturday morning, wrapped in my favorite black and white teddy bear blanket, I planned to kill my mother. Duh! That should have always been my first plan.
Roopa Raveendran-Menon likes to type all her stories on her phone. When she is not busy chasing after her 7-year-old daughter or dreaming up stories, you will find her buried in her kindle, staring into space, or reading tarot cards (not necessarily in that order). Some of her short stories have been published in, Corium magazine, Tiny Molecules, Fewer than 500, and elsewhere. Her middle-grade fiction, Chandu and the Super Set of Parents has just been published by Fitzroy Books. She lives in Dubai, UAE.