Silence Tells the Cruelest of Lies

The new baby, whom I decided to name Marjorie, looked so much like Jimmy it was startling. So far Matt hadn't caught a single glimpse of her, and I was glad. I couldn't help but remember his omnious warning of what he would do if my daughter was Jimmy's, and I wouldn't put it past him to actually do it. After all, he'd nearly killed Ryder with absolutely no remorse.

"Mommy, when I get my cake?" Ryder asked impatiently. He and Aileen sat on the floor of the nursery, playing with his army toys. I was walking around the room, bouncing little Marjorie on my shoulders. She was colicky, and didn't want to sleep.

I don't think you'll be getting one, Ryder, I replied. I'm sorry.

Today was Ryder's fourth birthday, and he'd been begging for a cake for at least the past week. I wanted so badly to give him one, because he was a child and he deserved one, but Matt would not allow it. I knew this for a fact because I had asked to have a cake made for Ryder's birthday, and Matt had adamantly refused.

"Why not, Mommy?" he whined. He threw one of his plastic figurines across the small room. "I wan a cake!"

Ryder, the big, mean man won't let you have a cake, I said sternly. I'm sorry.

"Why the big, mean man hate me?" Ryder asked, pouting. He started to cry. "I didn't do nufin to him!"

I went to my son and ruffled his soft, brown hair. He calmed down at my touch, but his sniffling failed to cease. Ryder, it's okay, I promised. Mommy will get you something special for your birthday. Is there something you really want?

"Yea," Ryder said, nodding his head. He wiped his nose on the long sleeve of his shirt. "I wan Daddy."

Deep down, I really should've been expecting that answer. Those three words left Ryder's mouth no less than three times a day, ever since Jimmy had disappeared for the last time. And what four-year-old didn't want to see his father on his birthday? 

Ryder, your daddy can't come see you for your birthday, I mouthed gently. You know that.

"Otay," Ryder sighed. I raised an eyebrow, still subconsciously bouncing Marjorie in my arms. Never before had Ryder accepted this news so easily. Every time prior to this, he'd screamed and cried when refused a visit with his father. I couldn't help but think that something strange was occuring in my son's mind. "Tan I have dat toy, den? Da one fwom da catawog?"

Of course, sweetie, I replied with a warm smile. I'll send off for it. And I'll see about maybe getting some ice cream. What flavor would you like?

"Chocolate!" Ryder squealed, clapping his hands. "And get some for Aileen, too. She wikes chocolate ice cweam, too."

Alright sweetheart, I chuckled.

♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪

Happy birthday, Ryder! I said with a smile, waving Marjorie's tiny hands in the air. I sat with my three children in the nursery, holding a makeshift birthday party my son. I'd been correct in assuming that Matt would refuse Ryder a cake, but I had no problem getting ahold of some ice cream. I'd also successfully had one of the servants send away for the toy Ryder had asked for. 

"Ry-er!" Aileen cheered, clapping her hands. She wrapped her tiny arms around her brother's neck and kissed his cheek, which caused Ryder to gag. I smiled at the two of them. Slowly, Ryder had grown to accept Aileen as his sister, and I could only hope he would do the same for Marjorie.

"Tan we have ice cweam now?" Ryder asked softly. 

Of course, Ryder, I said, reaching for the tub of chocolate ice cream. I fixed Ryder and Aileen each a bowl of ice cream, Ryder receiving the larger portion. I studied my son as he swirled his ice cream around the bowl, not once indicating that he planned to eat any of it. Ryder? I ventured. What's wrong, sweetheart?

"I wan Daddy hewr," Ryder whispered. "He was hewr wast time. He let me have a weal pawty, wif cake and tuff. But da big, mean man won't let me have one."

I know, Ryder, I said soothingly. The big, mean man doesn't like Daddy, and he thinks that if he makes us miserable, Daddy will come back.

"I hate him," Ryder huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I hate da big, mean man."

"Now, how many damn times am I gonna walk in on that little brat talking about me?" Matt's voice asked. I swiveled around with Marjorie in my arms, saw Matt's black eyes travel over the children, the ice cream, the makeshift birthday party. "What the hell is this?"

"It's my birfday," Ryder snapped. "Dis my pawty. And you not invited, so ha."

"I'm not invited?" Matt repeated with mock hurt. "Well damn, and I wanted some ice cream."

"Go away, big mean man!" Ryder shouted. He threw his spoon at Matt, and it rebounded off of his muscular chest, leaving chocolate ice cream on his chest. "Get out of my pawty!"

Matt took a heavy step forward, and Ryder shuffled back to latch onto my leg, whimpering in fright. Flames of rage began to lap at the inside of my belly. Could this monster not just leave my son alone on his birthday? What do you want, Matt?, I asked. 

"I came to see my baby," he replied darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. At the mention of Marjorie, I clutched her tightly to my chest. I took a step backward, shaking my head at Matt, and his mouth fell into a frown. "Give her to me, Calyx."

No, I said. You can't see her. Go away.

"Let me see the baby, Calyx," Matt growled. His black eyes glinted, sparking fear in my belly, and I relented, carefully holding Marjorie out so that Matt could take her into his large arms. I stood rooted in place as Matt studied the baby, waiting for that split second when the truth would finally hit him. And unfortunately for me, that second came far too soon. "Calyx," Matt said, his face eerily calm. "Why are the baby's eyes blue?"

Because that's what color a newborn's eyes always are, I answered cheekily, hoping he'd buy this.

"Not a newborn monster's," he spat. Matt looked up at me, and the anger in his black eyes burned through my soul. "This isn't my baby, is it, Calyx?" I looked down, said nothing. "Is it?" Matt roared. I jumped and shook my head. "This…this is that faggot's child. I should kill her right now, just like I said I would."

Please no!, I begged. I held out my small, shaking hands. Give her back to me, Matt.

With a sinister smirk, Matt drew Marjorie closer to his muscled chest; my infant daughter whimpered. "I don't think so, Calyx," Matt hissed. His free hand snuck down to the pocket of his jeans, and my veins turned to ice when he produced the Reaper Blade. "She comes from that bastard's seed. She doesn't deserve to live."

Give me my baby!, I cried as tears raced down my cheek. I rushed for Matt, but he held out a hand and the serrated edge of the Reaper Blade caught my arm. I felt to the ground as my mouth opened wide in a silent scream of pain.

"Mommy!" Ryder screamed. I watched in horror as my young som sprang to his feet and leapt at Matt. He latched onto one of Matt's legs and began pounding on his calves with tiny fists.

"Piss off, you dumb little faggot!" Matt shouted, kicking out. He caught Ryder by the chin and sent him flying halfway across the room, but my son would not be detered. He leapt for Matt again, which only infuriated Matt further. He reached down and snatched Ryder up by his shirt collar. "Hasn't your Mommy told you to keep your fucking mouth closed when grownups are talking?"

"Leave da baby 'lone!" Ryder squeaked, and then he spit in Matt's face. Matt let out a furious roar and hurled my four-year-old across the room; he slumped to the ground against the wall and did not move.

Ryder!, I screamed. I ran to my baby and scooped him into my lap, panicking when I felt the warm trickle of blood running down his neck. I looked up at Matt, who still held Marjorie in his arms, hatred burning in my black eyes. You bastard!, I spat. He's just a child!

"But he's that faggot's child," Matt replied remorselessly. He turned his gaze down to Marjorie, who'd woken in his arms. Her blue eyes were wide open, and even from a distance I could see the incredible resemblance to Jimmy. "And so is this newest little piece of shit you've given birth to," he added, his voice sickeningly sweet as he traced tip of the Reaper Blade along Marjorie's tiny cheek. "And now you'll finally pay for disobeying me."

I set Ryder aside as I rushed Matt, but I was too late. A blood-curdling, heart-wrenching cry split the air as Matt tore the flawless flesh of Marjorie's small neck. I knocked the blade from his hand and yanked my baby from him; but again, I was too late. He'd cut too deep, he'd pierced too far, and as I held her tiny body in my arms, my beautiful baby girl  passed from this horrible world.

The numbness was overwhelming. I scarcely felt as the Reaper Blade tumbled uselessly from my open hand, I barely heard Matt's cruel, cackling laughter high above my head. I was in a bubble, and all I could do was stare helplessly at the dead child I held in my arms. She was so…so young. Barely born. Barely alive. She'd had such great possibility ahead of her, and Matt had stolen that from her. He'd stolen my sweet baby from me, and for this he would undoubtedly pay.

With silent tears pouring down my face, I carefully sat Marjorie to the side. I caressed her chubby, porcelain cheek and then covered her with a soft baby blanket that lay nearby. I then reached for the Reaper Blade that lay only six inches away, and gripping it tightly in my hand, slowly rose to my feet. I felt something I'd never before coursing through my veins. I felt the raw urge to kill; I wanted Matt's blood to stain my hands; I wanted him to writhe in pain at my feet and beg me for the sweet release of death; I wanted him to suffer.

You monster, I choked out. You vile, cruel bastard. You…you killed my sweet little baby!

Matt smiled, quite sweetly for having just murdered an innocent child. "Your sweet little baby was conceived by that idiot's seed," was all he said. "She deserved to die."

My baby did not deserve to die!, I screamed before lunging for Matt, the Reaper Blade intended for his heart of ice. 

I'd forgotten, however, that Matt could read my thoughts and predict my actions. The knife was halted mere centimeters from his chest and wrenched from my hands. It was turned upon me and sliced visciously across my cheek. I cried out in pain, but did not fall. I lashed out and landed my fist across Matt's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. He cursed and cut me once more with the blade. The pain was blinding, but I would not give up. Marjorie would be avenged.

"Just give up, Calyx," Matt spat as he shoved me to the ground at his feet. "There's nothing you can do to fix this." He kicked out with his foot and caught me hard on the temple. Ironically it was this and not the blows from the Reaper Blade that caused me to finally black out, and Matt was still standing over me even as the last bit of light fled my vision.