Maggie’s Toys

I picked her up near an alternative club, late at night. She was fairly drunk. She told me to go to a district that was not too far. That was luck: I told her there was a jam on the avenue and offered to take the shortcut through the park. She agreed and off we went. She took out a small mirror and checked her make-up. I glanced at her again: she was very pretty and young. Even that bright make-up looked good on her. She wore a short blue dress with a wide leather belt, her soft fair hair was simply lying on her shoulders. Well, I have no idea how soft her hair was, but it looked just great. She was perfect. Just perfect.

She saw Maggie’s picture and asked:

“Is this your daughter?”

“Yes,” I said. I wonder why they always ask one and the same question. She smiled.

“She is pretty,” she said. “How old is she?”

“Six. This picture was taken three years ago. She would be nine now.”

“Oh, what is the matter with her?”

“She’s dead. There’s been an accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. But she didn’t sound sorry at all. She didn’t care. None of them cared. Nobody cares for someone else’s troubles.

We drove into the street that lead to the park. My biggest expectation was that there would not be any buses riding through the park while we’re there. Well, there should not be any buses, it was too late at night for the buses. But anyway, I had to be sure that nobody was there to see us.

I slowed down a little while we went along the trees and bushes. The girl seemed to have fallen asleep – her eyes were closed. Well, maybe it’s even better that way. Very carefully, I turned to the narrow road that lead to the pond in the depth of the park. It was not so smooth as the street, so I drove very carefully. Nobody saw us, I was sure of that.

I thought of Maggie again. Daddy loves you Maggie, of course daddy loves you, why would he be doing this if it wasn’t for his lovely Maggie? Just hang on a little. We’re almost there.

I stopped the car by the pond, got out and opened her door. She was sleeping, and I could feel the smell of alcohol coming from her face. I smiled. She was so pretty! I took her by the elbow and dragged her out of her car.

I don’t exactly know what made her wake up – my touch or the touch of the blade. Just as soon as I dragged her out, I plunged my knife right in the middle of her belly. She opened her eyes wide and gasped. It was no use to gag her, I knew she wouldn’t scream. They never scream. I pulled the knife back, she seemed to cling to it, moving together with it, and when I finally released it she fell on her knees, covering the wound with her hands. I reached to her and strongly hit her again, a bit higher. She moaned and fell on the grass, breathing quickly. I stood on my knees over her, watching. Two black stains appeared on her blue dress, but it didn’t matter at all. I knew Maggie wouldn’t care for these stains. But I had to make sure that her hair remained clean. It was important. Maggie told me.

She was dying. A few loud gasps, a few funny motions, and here she was – a perfect new toy for my lovely Maggie. I put my ear to her chest and listened. There was no heartbeat. It was splendid, how she lay among the ferns and all, a new doll, another present from daddy to his dear Maggie. I knew Maggie would be pleased.

Maggie loved toys, especially dolls. But Maggie was in heaven, she could not have toys there. She asked me to find beautiful dolls for her and send them to heaven so that she could play with them there. Poor Maggie, she must be so bored there is heaven. And I chose the best dolls for my lovely Maggie. I knew she loved them. And she loved daddy, too. Maggie loved her daddy.

There was nothing else to be done to the dead doll. And it was not necessary to do anything. She was already in heaven, with Maggie, she’d love to meet my daughter, I’m sure they all like Maggie, Maggie’s so sweet! I wrapped the body in plastic and put it in the truck. I’ll get rid of it. That’s no problem.

The only thing that matters is that Maggie has a new present from her daddy.

Daddy loves Maggie.

The End

Copyright by NightInGale (2003).

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