Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-34596229-20180328131831

My son Peter was born on the 6th of June 2006. And it doesn’t help that he has a birthmark that resembles 666. I know what you are thinking, but no, Peter ain't the Devil’s son. In fact, he is quite the opposite. He is a sweet little cherub.

But my darling Peter has endured so much in such a brief time. He has always been surrounded by tragedies. A week after his birth, we went to the church to get him baptised. When we were mere 50 feet away from the church, the building collapsed. It was as if the church just turned to ashes within seconds. Everyone inside the building including the pastor died. This came as a surprise to all of us as the church’s foundation and exterior were pretty solid.

When my baby turned one, his nanny died. It was an accident, she fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck. That made my Peter so sad that he didn’t eat for 2 days, my poor baby. Though Ursula’s demise didn’t sadden me. During investigation, Police found a dagger in her bag with a note that said Peter is the Antichrist and needs to be put down; and if she died in the process, someone else should take up the task. Can you believe that? My little angel, the Antichrist? Good riddance I thought.

Peter was two when we got him enrolled in a nursery. I always felt my Peter was lonely after Ursula died and we wanted him to bond with kids his age. He even made a friend by the name Sherry at the nursery. My baby was happy again, though it was short lived. Sherry had an accident. She died after a rope got entangled around her neck while playing on the slide in the nursery. Police couldn’t find out from where and how Sherry came in possession of the rope.

Peter’s nursery teacher Ms. McNally called to inform me that a kid at the nursery told her he saw Sherry and Peter fighting over who will go on the slide first before the mishap. Wow, it was quite audacious of her to call and share this with me. Was she accusing my 2 years’ old baby of murder? Wasn’t it her responsibility to watch after the kids. The court felt that too and she lost her job. She called me again and said that something about Peter was not right and she was positive that he was in some way responsible for Sherry’s death. She even threatened to investigate further. I took Peter out of the nursery as I was worried about Miss McCrazy causing him harm. A month later I read in the papers that she died in a road accident. Good riddance again.

Six months had passed since the incident and I feared my Peter will have a cloistered upbringing. I had left my job and was taking care of him full time as I couldn’t bring myself to trust a nanny again. It was mostly me and Peter as my husband Mark frequently travelled for business.

I was euphoric when I found out I was pregnant. Peter would finally have a sibling to play with. Fifth month into my pregnancy I told Peter that Mama would bring him a sister soon. Initially he didn’t react and just continued playing with his little soldiers, but after a while Peter came to me, gave me a cute heart-warming smile, oh how much I loved that smile of his; hugged me and kissed my belly. This came as a surprise to me since I never told Peter where babies come from, he was too young for that. Nevertheless, this gesture made me melt with happiness. Just four more months I thought.

But it was like someone high up there held a grudge with my boy. The very same day I broke my pregnancy news to Peter, I had an accident. I fell in the bathtub on my belly after slipping on a soap bar. There was so much blood, but the worst part was that my Peter had to see all this as my poor baby came rushing to his Mama’s aid after hearing her cries. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance and my worst fear came true. I had suffered a miscarriage. Though I still often wonder how Peter’s soap ended up in my bathtub.

After the miscarriage, Mark left his job and took up a new one close to our residence. He had become very affectionate and supportive and helped take care of Peter. Peter had started with his school. But every other day I used to receive complaints from his teachers and principal about his behaviour. They said my boy hurt kids around him and that they were scared of him. This was just unbelievable. Peter wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone other kids. They were simply jealous of my boy. After a while I grew tired of his school’s management constant bickering and decided to home-school him. The fact that Peter won’t be able to socialize with kids his age made me sad, but I was still happy that Mark was spending some quality time with him.

Things were going well for some time when I started noticing some change in Mark’s behaviour. He started working late nights, and almost always came home drunk. He even started avoiding Peter and grew anxious in his presence. Many nights he just slept at office and didn’t come home. I suspected that he was having an affair, and finally confronted him. I wish he had told me he was having an affair rather than what he said.

He said Peter was not his child. This made me so mad. I was shaking with rage. I gave him my entire life and he accused me of adultery. He started showing me evidence to support his claim. Peter was a premature baby, born in the 7th month. Mark showed me his passport indicating he was on a business trip to France when I got pregnant, and thus Peter wasn’t his child.

He went as far as to say that just like Ursula even he started suspecting that Peter was the Antichrist. Behind my back he even sought counsel of a Priest, who confirmed his fear. He brought a dagger blessed by the Priest to kill my baby. I knew then that Mark was possessed by a demon. I wouldn’t have let him harm my child. I snatched the dagger from him and stabbed him instead with all my strength, multiple times. Mark didn’t even fight back, he just had this sad look in his eyes. I sat beside his lifeless body and cried for hours like a baby. Peter came to me with a glass of water and wiped away my tears. Why couldn’t the world see how innocent and caring my baby was?

I disposed Mark’s body in the best way possible and left the city with Peter. New city and a fresh start. Since then I and Peter have moved from one place to another as we have always been shrouded by tragedies. One time it was the building caught on fire, another time it was destroyed by earthquake. There were major casualties, but we always made it unscathed.

My Peter has now grown into such a handsome young man and is about to turn 18 this year. Today morning he gave me his beautiful smile and said he won’t be needing his mother anymore. 