End of the Family Line

Everyone keeps going on about tracing their family trees. I can’t see the big deal myself. It’s bound to be really disappointing. And boring. Still, I might sort through the boxes from the old house, see if there’s anything vaguely interesting in there.

 ***

Dear God, I am going to have a baby. I’m so happy. It’s going to be a little girl, I know it is. I’m going to love her so much. I’ll be the best mother in the whole wide world. We’re all going to be so happy.

 ***

I phoned in sick today. I feel awful, I think I might have food poisoning or something. Had a look through those boxes but there wasn’t much there, just a lot of barely legible letters and a rattle. There’s still a couple more to sort through but I think I’ll leave those until tomorrow. I think I’m going to throw up.

 ***

Dear God, something isn’t right. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life but I can’t even hold my baby. Every time I get close to her I start to panic. Something about her…I don’t know what it is, but it’s not right. She’s not right. I don’t understand. What’s wrong with my baby?

***

 I felt a little better today, but still a bit sick. I think I’m late too. I’m not exactly surprised, althought it’s a bit sooner than we planned. Anyway, I’d better make sure before I say anything. I found a box of old photographs today, photographs of people I don’t know. There’s a little girl in some of them – she looks a lot like me. I’ve been thinking about doing a family tree, but I’m not sure how much I really want to find out. I think I prefer the mysteries to remain unsolved.

 ***

 Dear God, please take this child away from me. I can’t take care of her. I know she’s mine and I should love her like any mother would. It’s only natural. But I can’t. I can’t love her. I always imagined that I would have a child of my own, but not like this, never like this. I can’t bear it. Please, take her away from me.

 ***

I found some more photographs, all of the little girl. These ones have symbols on the back but I can’t work out what they mean. The little girl looks happy in the pictures, all smiley and mischievous. There is one in particular where she looks exactly like me when I was little. There are no other pictures of the people she was with.

***

 Dear God, I fear what will become of us now. What I have done to deserve this? I’ve always tried to be good, to do the right thing. I always wanted a little girl, but this child…this child is a monster. What am I to do?

 ***

 I decided to give the family history thing a go after all, I was so intrigued by the photographs. It turns out the little girl is my great-grandmother. It’s a very sad story actually; her mum went mad and got put in an asylum, where she later killed herself. I don’t know what happened to the girl after my grandmother was born; it seems that she simply vanished. Not a trace of her since. I hope she was happy, wherever she went.

 ***

 I found Mother’s journal today. It’s filled with letters to God, letters about me. I always knew she hated, but I knew really knew why. She thinks I am evil. She says I am a monster and begs for me to be taken away. Every day since I was born, she has wanted me gone. Take her away, she implored, please take her away. Now she has been taken away. I’d laugh if it weren’t so twisted. She tried to kill me last night, put a pillow over my face as I was sleeping and tried to suffocate me. I woke up and screamed bloody murder. Then they came and dragged her away to the nuthouse. And that’s where she’ll stay. She can’t hurt me anymore now. Or my baby.

 ***

I managed to trace my grandmother today. She was abandoned as a baby and brought up by nuns. No wonder she’s so nutty! She reckons her mum was a witch and forced to run away or else she’d be locked up just like her own mother was. It all seems a bit farfetchedtome. My grandmother reckons some sort of curse was put on the family centuries ago, that would cause all the women to go mad as soon as they gave birth to a daughter, which they inevitably would. What a load of nonsense. I doubt my mother ever believed in any stupid curse. I suppose I could always ask her about it. If she ever comes back.

 ***

Mummy is being strange. She keeps looking at lots of grey pictures of people in funny clothes. I pointed at a little girl who looked like me and she got cross and shouted. She is always shouting, like when I asked how come I don’t have a granny like the other children at school. Mummy says that granny wasn’t well and so she couldn’t look after her when she was a little girl. She said I wasn’t to ask any more questions. It’s not fair. I’m not allowed to do anything, not even play out with the other kids on our street. Mummy says it’s too dangerous and someone might get hurt. I don’t understand why because we all know it’s wrong to fight, the teacher said so. Daddy says that mummy is not very well sometimes and we mustn’t get cross with her. I wonder if mummy will have to go away too, like granny did. I hope not. I hope she gets better soon, then she can look after me, and we can look after each other.

***

Went to see Mum in the hospital today. She’s much the same. She knew who I was but she refused to speak to me, just like she always does. I didn’t mention the wedding. There’s no point, I know she won’t able to come. I doubt she’d want to, even if she could. It’s going to be a small affair, just close friends. Neither of us have much family, but we don’t mind. We have each other. We discussed the baby thing early on and we both agreed that it wasn’t something we wanted. Neither of us are cut out to be parents. We’re going to get a puppy instead.

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