I sighed as I stepped into my white 2007 Honda Accord and started the engine to pick up my five-year-old daughter, Lupe, from kindergarten. As I pulled out of the parking lot of my workplace, I could feel my spirits begin to lift instantly at the thought of seeing my baby's cheeky smile and sparkling brown eyes.
I was a single mother. I'd always hated referring to myself as a single mom because of the stigma that surrounds single mothers. Young, poor, baby daddy either left to get milk or got locked up in prison. You know how it goes. I guess I just hated that my life wasn't too far off from the stereotype. I married Lupe's father when I was nineteen and he was twenty-two, and got pregnant with her not too long after. I took a break from school while I was pregnant, but returned shortly after she was born because my ex-husband didn't make a whole lot of money as an aspiring musician, and I knew I needed something more than just an entry-level job if our family was going to make it.
But after Lupe was born, I began to notice faint numbers above people's heads. I learned pretty quickly that only I could see it, and that it was the number of people a person had killed. I tried to ignore it for the most part, especially when I noticed numbers other than zeros on my peers. Life was peaceful for a while until I saw that my ex-husband's number went up after he came home late one night. Come to find out, he tried to seduce another woman after one of his gigs and my cousin happened to be out with her girlfriend and caught him red-handed. Things escalated and he ended up killing her (my cousin). That particular cousin was one of my closest friends, so I didn't take her murder very lightly. My ex was the only person I'd ever turned in because of my ability.
As I pulled into the parking lot of Lupe's school and headed in, I imagined what new things might've happened at school. What new things did she learn? Did she make any new friends? After signing her out, I walked into her classroom with a grin.
"Hi, Mommy!"
My heart instantly melted at the sound of her soft, cooing voice.
"Hi, Baby! How was school today?" I asked as she ran to me and gave me a big hug.
"It was fun!"
When she pulled away, however, my heart dropped. The number above her head was no longer zero.
It was six.
"Guess what!? At recess, me and my friends made leaf soup and flower petal tea! And we also got to watch a movie about fish! Also, Angel hit Ruby again today, and he went to the principal's office..."
I couldn't even listen to what she was saying. My head was spinning trying to think of what could've made her number go up so much in just a few hours.
It was hours later when I started making dinner. I still couldn't stop thinking about Lupe's six victims. Who were they? How could she have possibly killed them? Just then, I received a call from her school.
"Hello, parents. We've just received word that three of our kindergarteners checked into the hospital today and six have sadly passed. Our entire staff is mourning the loss of our little angels and praying for the three in the hospital to make a full recovery. Please keep the families in your prayers as well, as losing a child is never easy for anyone. The families have disclosed to us that the doctors confirmed the cause of death to be ingestion of poisonous plants, more specifically, oleanders. Parents, please sit down with your children tonight and have a conversation with them about our school's tragic incident. We will be removing all the oleander plants effective immediately. Thank you all, and have a good evening."
As I set out dinner and pondered how I would break the news of her friends' deaths to my five-year-old daughter, Lupe brought out two cups of strawberry lemonade and set them precariously onto the dinner table.
"Did you pour that yourself?" I asked.
She smiled proudly. "Yeah!"
"Good job! You didn't make any messes!" I praised.
We sat down and prayed and began to eat our dinner. As I ate, I looked up to see Lupe happily sipping her lemonade and smiled. Just then, I noticed that the number above her head had gone up to seven.
How that was possible, I didn't know; she had been with me the entire time, and I never let her leave my sight.
That's when it hit me.
The oleanders. The leaf soup. The flower petal tea.
Lupe accidentally poisoned her classmates.
The number going up from six to seven was most likely one of the unlucky children in the hospital passing away just minutes ago.
How could I tell my five-year-old daughter that she killed her own friends by accident? I'd have to tell her about how oleanders are poisonous to ensure she doesn't touch them again, and she deserves to know that her classmates passed away. She was a smart girl; she'd connect the dots sooner or later.
With an exasperated sigh, I picked up my cup and drank the cold, refreshing lemonade.
Only, it tasted nothing like lemonade.
I narrowed my eyes as I scrutinized my beverage. It was pink, but the small chunks in it definitely weren't strawberries or lemons. The realization slowly began to dawn on me, but I didn't want to believe it.
"Lupe, what is this?"
My heart dropped as I heard her shaky voice say weakly, "Fl-flower petal tea."
I looked up in horror at my daughter's pale, clammy face. My terror intensified as I looked up at her number and saw that it was now at eight.
"I don't feel... feel good... mommy," she murmured as she swayed in her seat.
Shoving the chair away from me and scrambling to Lupe, I caught her just in time before she fell over. As I held her in my arms, she began to seize. Her body twitched uncontrollably as vomit began to come up in sporadic spurts, her head nodding drowsily and her eyes half closed as if she were falling asleep. I screamed for her to stop while fumbling around for my phone to call an ambulance. I held my baby girl to my chest and desperately cried out to God, ignoring the vomit and foam dropping all over me.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"Please, my five-year-old daughter ingested oleander! She's dying! You have to save her! She's my baby!"
Her twitching and vomiting was gradually slowing, and I pulled her away from my body to get a better look at her. Her mouth hung open and her eyes rolled back as the twitching slowed even further. The number over her head was flickering and dimming, and I knew she was already almost gone.
Just then, it felt like everything was beginning to slow down with Lupe. My head pounded slowly and I could feel my body getting weaker by the second.
"Ma'am, can you tell me where you are? Ma'am?" the operator asked.
"I h-had it... too... I can't..." I slurred as my vision blurred.
"Don't worry, ma'am, we're gonna find you and send someone over to help you. Just hang on, okay?"
I lowered Lupe and I to lay on the ground. She had ceased her twitching and vomiting, and was instead staring back at me with dark, lifeless eyes and no number over her head. I could hear my own heartbeat getting slower and slower with each passing second and I knew I would soon be joining her. My stomach cramped painfully, but I was too sluggish to do anything about it. With a twitching hand, I wiped away some vomit that was still left on her face and smiled.
A life without Lupe wasn't a life worth living anyway.
legomommy04 t1_itbjrlh wrote
Reply to [WP] You have the ability to see people’s kill count on their head. You tell no one, managed to stay away from shady people and live a peaceful life. One day, your 5 years old kid’s number is not 0... by guitarist2505
I sighed as I stepped into my white 2007 Honda Accord and started the engine to pick up my five-year-old daughter, Lupe, from kindergarten. As I pulled out of the parking lot of my workplace, I could feel my spirits begin to lift instantly at the thought of seeing my baby's cheeky smile and sparkling brown eyes.
I was a single mother. I'd always hated referring to myself as a single mom because of the stigma that surrounds single mothers. Young, poor, baby daddy either left to get milk or got locked up in prison. You know how it goes. I guess I just hated that my life wasn't too far off from the stereotype. I married Lupe's father when I was nineteen and he was twenty-two, and got pregnant with her not too long after. I took a break from school while I was pregnant, but returned shortly after she was born because my ex-husband didn't make a whole lot of money as an aspiring musician, and I knew I needed something more than just an entry-level job if our family was going to make it.
But after Lupe was born, I began to notice faint numbers above people's heads. I learned pretty quickly that only I could see it, and that it was the number of people a person had killed. I tried to ignore it for the most part, especially when I noticed numbers other than zeros on my peers. Life was peaceful for a while until I saw that my ex-husband's number went up after he came home late one night. Come to find out, he tried to seduce another woman after one of his gigs and my cousin happened to be out with her girlfriend and caught him red-handed. Things escalated and he ended up killing her (my cousin). That particular cousin was one of my closest friends, so I didn't take her murder very lightly. My ex was the only person I'd ever turned in because of my ability.
As I pulled into the parking lot of Lupe's school and headed in, I imagined what new things might've happened at school. What new things did she learn? Did she make any new friends? After signing her out, I walked into her classroom with a grin.
"Hi, Mommy!"
My heart instantly melted at the sound of her soft, cooing voice.
"Hi, Baby! How was school today?" I asked as she ran to me and gave me a big hug.
"It was fun!"
When she pulled away, however, my heart dropped. The number above her head was no longer zero.
It was six.
"Guess what!? At recess, me and my friends made leaf soup and flower petal tea! And we also got to watch a movie about fish! Also, Angel hit Ruby again today, and he went to the principal's office..."
I couldn't even listen to what she was saying. My head was spinning trying to think of what could've made her number go up so much in just a few hours.
It was hours later when I started making dinner. I still couldn't stop thinking about Lupe's six victims. Who were they? How could she have possibly killed them? Just then, I received a call from her school.
"Hello, parents. We've just received word that three of our kindergarteners checked into the hospital today and six have sadly passed. Our entire staff is mourning the loss of our little angels and praying for the three in the hospital to make a full recovery. Please keep the families in your prayers as well, as losing a child is never easy for anyone. The families have disclosed to us that the doctors confirmed the cause of death to be ingestion of poisonous plants, more specifically, oleanders. Parents, please sit down with your children tonight and have a conversation with them about our school's tragic incident. We will be removing all the oleander plants effective immediately. Thank you all, and have a good evening."
As I set out dinner and pondered how I would break the news of her friends' deaths to my five-year-old daughter, Lupe brought out two cups of strawberry lemonade and set them precariously onto the dinner table.
"Did you pour that yourself?" I asked.
She smiled proudly. "Yeah!"
"Good job! You didn't make any messes!" I praised.
We sat down and prayed and began to eat our dinner. As I ate, I looked up to see Lupe happily sipping her lemonade and smiled. Just then, I noticed that the number above her head had gone up to seven.
How that was possible, I didn't know; she had been with me the entire time, and I never let her leave my sight.
That's when it hit me.
The oleanders. The leaf soup. The flower petal tea.
Lupe accidentally poisoned her classmates.
The number going up from six to seven was most likely one of the unlucky children in the hospital passing away just minutes ago.
How could I tell my five-year-old daughter that she killed her own friends by accident? I'd have to tell her about how oleanders are poisonous to ensure she doesn't touch them again, and she deserves to know that her classmates passed away. She was a smart girl; she'd connect the dots sooner or later.
With an exasperated sigh, I picked up my cup and drank the cold, refreshing lemonade.
Only, it tasted nothing like lemonade.
I narrowed my eyes as I scrutinized my beverage. It was pink, but the small chunks in it definitely weren't strawberries or lemons. The realization slowly began to dawn on me, but I didn't want to believe it.
"Lupe, what is this?"
My heart dropped as I heard her shaky voice say weakly, "Fl-flower petal tea."
I looked up in horror at my daughter's pale, clammy face. My terror intensified as I looked up at her number and saw that it was now at eight.
"I don't feel... feel good... mommy," she murmured as she swayed in her seat.
Shoving the chair away from me and scrambling to Lupe, I caught her just in time before she fell over. As I held her in my arms, she began to seize. Her body twitched uncontrollably as vomit began to come up in sporadic spurts, her head nodding drowsily and her eyes half closed as if she were falling asleep. I screamed for her to stop while fumbling around for my phone to call an ambulance. I held my baby girl to my chest and desperately cried out to God, ignoring the vomit and foam dropping all over me.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"Please, my five-year-old daughter ingested oleander! She's dying! You have to save her! She's my baby!"
Her twitching and vomiting was gradually slowing, and I pulled her away from my body to get a better look at her. Her mouth hung open and her eyes rolled back as the twitching slowed even further. The number over her head was flickering and dimming, and I knew she was already almost gone.
Just then, it felt like everything was beginning to slow down with Lupe. My head pounded slowly and I could feel my body getting weaker by the second.
"Ma'am, can you tell me where you are? Ma'am?" the operator asked.
"I h-had it... too... I can't..." I slurred as my vision blurred.
"Don't worry, ma'am, we're gonna find you and send someone over to help you. Just hang on, okay?"
I lowered Lupe and I to lay on the ground. She had ceased her twitching and vomiting, and was instead staring back at me with dark, lifeless eyes and no number over her head. I could hear my own heartbeat getting slower and slower with each passing second and I knew I would soon be joining her. My stomach cramped painfully, but I was too sluggish to do anything about it. With a twitching hand, I wiped away some vomit that was still left on her face and smiled.
A life without Lupe wasn't a life worth living anyway.