Mae's Good Life

She was a tiny little girl, with bright blue eyes and glass blonde hair. Her name was Mae Everglow, and the one thing she loved most in the world was the sound of soft feet on a tile floor. It was the one thing she missed the most: the sound of her brother’s feet on the kitchen floor.

She wrapped her arms around her knees pulling them tighter against her chest. She was cold, shaking with it, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach for her blanket. She felt that if she once moved the monster would come get her.

Her mother was upstairs. She could hear her footsteps on her ceiling. The steps stopped at the front door. She had promised she was coming back. She always said you had to keep your promises. Even in the basement, Mae heard the sharp creak of the front door swinging open. Her brother had said he was going to fix it, but he had never got the chance. Her mother screamed. Mae shot up, but froze on her feet.

Boom! A gun shot reverberated through the living room, down the stairs, to Mae. Then, more footsteps on the ceiling, heavy, deliberate ones. Mae’s father had been a pastor. Her second favorite thing in all the world was the sound of her father singing.

“Little ones to Him belong. They are weak, but He is strong.”

Slam! The door to the stair slapped the wall. She sang in a voice just louder than the noise of her crying. Mom always kept her promises just like Daddy. The man opened the door to the basement, and saw Mae standing there with her bright blue eyes and glass blonde hair. She reminded him of God. He walked to her, and she stood perfectly still, entranced. He put his hand, soft as a butterfly on her hair, then on her shoulder. He raised his Gloc and shot her in the face. Her blood soaked his shirt to his arm and chest. His fingers were dyed crimson with it. He raised two and put them in his mouth. He left the way he had come. She lay on the floor. Dead.

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?