Lunacy

“Reagan, honey, you are going to be a big sister,” a woman with sandy blond hair tapped her forefinger against her daughter’s nose. The little girl’s features mirrored her mother’s dark chocolate eyes, high cheek bones, and rounded lips along with her father’s coal black hair, sharp nose, and long forehead. Her hair curled naturally like her mother’s, and her fingers, like her father’s, twitched when she was nervous and excited. Her fingers twitched now.

“A little sister?” The gears in her four year old mind spun with possibilities. She would have someone to play with, swim with, laugh with. Her fingers twitched faster.

“Or a little brother,” her father bounced her gently on his knee. She giggled happily.

“Hopefully a little sister though,” her mother laughed.

The three of them took a stroll down to the pond behind their four-bedroomed house. Reagan’s favorite thing in the world was splashing at the edge of the pond. She’d been taking swimming lessons for a few months, and her mother promised this time next year she could swim in the pond instead of just splashing.

“We won’t be able to come out here so often once the new baby comes. It’s too dangerous.” The woman smoothed Reagan’s hair back.

“But swimming?” Reagan looked at her father. He shook his head.

“We’ll come, sweetheart, just not as much as you’ll want to.”

Reagan crossed her arms. This new baby was not a good idea.


Eight months, twenty days, and six hours later a six pound 3 ounce baby girl escaped the womb. Grace Matthews had her second child on her favorite day of the year. The fragrance of the first day of summer floated on the warm breeze unburdened by the window in the room she occupied after her youngest daughter was wheeled away to her first bath. The energy drained from Grace’s body, but something left her restless. A nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach made her want to break into tears at any moment.

“It’s just a little postpartum depression,” the friendly doctor patted Grace’s hand. “I promise, you’ll be alright in a few months.”

“I hope so,” she sighed.

“You will.” The doctor smiled. “What’s her name?”

Grace stared into the blinding whiteness of the bland hospital wall. “Ella.”

Reid Matthews kissed his wife on her forehead while he held his oldest daughter’s little hand. Reagan beamed at her mother. Grace’s heart fell through the floor, but she forced a smile. “Are you alright, Mommy?”

“I’m just tired, sweetheart.” Grace patted the little girl’s coal hair before ruffling a curl into place.

“Honey…” Reid started, but Grace cut him off with a nod.

“I’m fine.” She stared into his eyes even though she knew he’d notice the loss of that glint of passion he’d fell in love with nine years ago. “Our new little girl wore me out.” She turned her head away.

Reagan noticed her mother’s odd behavior. She listened carefully to the words ‘new little girl.’ Her tiny fingers curled into a fist. The new baby hurt her mommy, and she wouldn’t let it happen again. “I love you, Mommy.”


Reagan didn’t get to see the new baby in the hospital. A week went by before Grace made her way to her home, but something still felt wrong. She found herself moping and staring blankly out windows.

Reid brought Ella into the house the same day Grace came home. She kept her puffy eyes shut tight while he put her in her crib. Reagan wrapped her fingers around the bars of the crib. She noticed the sickeningly sweet scent coming from the baby’s clothes. The four year old girl tested the boundaries by poking her finger through the bars to touch the soft pale skin of her baby sister. The moment Reagan made contact was the moment Ella shrieked.

The baby’s eyes opened slightly, and Reagan gasped snatching her hand through the bars. Tears poured down her face as she pointed to the tiny child’s eyes. They were the color of fresh blood. Their father burst into the room.

“Daddy,” Reagan cried and pointed.

Reid Matthews picked up his newborn. He checked each of her fingers and toes, searched for any signs of harm. He found a red mark that appeared to be cause by a tiny pinch to the baby’s sensitive skin. “What did you do, Reagan Matthews!”

“No! Look, Daddy!” Reagan continued to cry as her father put the little girl back in her crib.

He knelt, eye level with his four year old, and shook his head. His eyes scorned her. “I don’t want you to hurt your sister again. We love you both the same, but your sister is going to need a little more attention since she can’t take care of herself. Do not hurt her!”

“I didn’t,” Reagan stomped her foot. “Daddy look at her eyes!”

Read opened Ella’s eyes just enough to inspect them. They were the same deep blue as the ocean. Nothing was out of order.

“STOP it! Stop it, right now, Reagan!” Reid grabbed his four year old’s hand and dragged her from the room. “There’s nothing wrong except you picking on your sister.”

Reagan pleaded with him before she turned back to look at Ella. Her crimson eyes gleamed as she grinned and giggled at Reagan’s demise.