Jayden's Revenge: The Tale of an American Family (6 page)

Derrick awakens
in this living room floor, next to a shattered table, a bottle of Jack, and a coffee mug. His skull
is
pounding with every heartbeat. He
is
writhing in pain. The pressure behind his eyes
is
so intense that he
can’t focus. “Help me!” he shouts. His words make
the intense pain in his cranium more acute.
What just happened?
–, h
e
wonders.

He rolls to his side, glass from the table sticking into his shoulders as he rises.
Using
his left h
and to steady himself
causes
a bolt
of pain
to
surge through his body
,
starting in his chest;
h
e can feel his collarbone grinding against its other half
and the sensation is nauseating and quite unnerving
. He looks
down to identify the
excruciating
scraping
and sees the bone
protruding from his upper chest
,
not quite breaking the skin and becoming a compound fracture, but visibly trying
to do so
.

He fights
the urge to vomit
a
nd
gets a flash of
what happened. Brenda is here, she attacked him. Using his right arm
this time
to push his chest upright, he holds his left arm into his abdomen. By putting his right shoulder into the mantle of the fireplace he is able to use his legs to right
him
self and take his first staggering step into the hallway.

There is a guttural moaning sound coming from the open back door. He cautiously
peeks
his face into the kitchen for a second before heading to the knife block to the right of the range. Grabbing the
small fillet knife
,
he steps towards the window over the sink,
and
he is mortified
by the view
. Jayden is standing over her mother
,
who is tied to the riding lawnmower in the shed. Brenda is
attempting to
plead with her, but her mouth is ruined. She is audible, but not understandable. Jayden is holding a baseball bat. She brings it down in three quick hacks
–
each
sounding a little bit wetter and thicker than the previous
. Brenda is silent. Still.

He makes his way to the patio door as Jayden pours out a can of gasoline over the seat of the rider and Brenda’s hair. He doesn’t recognize his wife. Her face is split, bloody and hanging half way off of her skull. There are pieces
of wood stacked up in her lap.

He has never imagined that Brenda’s story could be true. How
can
his little girl be responsibl
e for this? His doubts fade quickly when he sees
the
joyful gleam
in her eyes. She
is
enjoying this.
This is too deliberate; she is a
certifiable
monster
. He had been blinded by her charm and youth.

His daughter sees his approach. She looks at him and her demeanor changes. She drops the gas can and runs
to him.

“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re ok…
.
I thought you were dead
.
”
This
is
true
;
indeed, it’s
the only reason why she
did
n’t finish the job
when she had seen him lying o
n the floor
,
mangled and helpless.

“
Yeah
,
Pumpkin
,
I’m alright…
.
I’m just glad you aren’t hurt…
.
You did a good job here
, H
one
y. Daddy’s proud of you
,
” he lies
. He
is
dis
gusted, but he suddenly realizes
that Jayden
i
s running the show;
he
doesn’t
want this to be any more difficult than it already
will be
.

He imagine
s
her as a baby… her first smiles, holding her little body against his chest as she slept. Helping her tie her shoes and
teaching her to ride
a bike. He was a good father to her. He remembers the day she was born. The exact moment she took her first breath. He begins to cry as she reaches out to hug him.

“I love you
,
J.J.
”

“Love you
,
too
,
dad
.
”

He sinks the five
-
inch fillet knife into her back
,
fighting the urge to vomit as he feels the
blade
pierce her
skin
and
take a slightly different angle after nicking one of her ribs.
She
tightens and tries to pull away, but the arm holding her (his only good arm) is the same arm holding the blade. Like a barb on a
fishhook
her struggles just sink the steel in deeper. She tries to fight; he can feel the resistance of the blade lessen as the blade enters her lung
. He holds he
r as she takes her last breath.

He is sobbing deeply as h
e carries her body against his chest into the shed and places her on the riding lawnmower, lights a match, and
takes a step back
.
He looks at Brenda’s ruined face
before the flames become too thick
,
and
he
hates himself for letting her down.
She was mine to protect, they both were
,
and I failed
–
he
is now
,
indeed
,
in morbid reflection, but who wouldn’t be
?
He wonders how his sponsor would try to spin this one
–
watching his wife beaten to death by his dead son’s Little League bat
and
mortally
stabbing his daughter
–
to
make it seem like God’s will is good.

Screw
Him,
he thinks as he
washes
the rest of the bottle of Xanax
down with
Bourbon.

Dirk Knight

Authors Notes

Thank y
ou for reading. This story was the first piece I completed after a long drought in confidence
, sanity
, and
sobriety.
It is short and to the point, and I hope you feel that
it is worth the money
you spent, a
nd will continue to follow the work as I release new stories and compilation
s
. As is the story with many part time authors and f
ull time 9-5’ers, I hope to be able to gradually invest more time into my craft,
and likewise grow in my base of readers
.
The best way to keep up with my new releases will be to subscribe to the blog. I will keep it updated and have a number of shorts coming out this year.

Gratefully Yours,
Dirk Knight.

*
“Jayden’s Revenge” is going to be re
-
released Un-Cut, with a follow up tale, “Jayden’s Return”.

http://dirkknight.com

https://www.facebook.com/AZDirkKnight

Dirk Knight

Authors Notes

Dirk Knight
lives in Phoe
nix with his wife and daughters,
and works in sales. Dirk is now devoting himself to his passion after having spent a great number of years in and out of recovery and addiction. Dirk studied English, journalism and creative writing in college, but never pursued his literary goals due to his addictions and other restrictions.

“I started writing for myself, to satisfy urges and entertain my curiosities. I wanted to know how many of us think the way I do. I have lived in the most depressing and joyful situations. I have starved and lived in cars, I have also had more money that I could spend and had gifts that brought me exquisite joy. From my vantage point, humans are the most unpredictable, astonishing, hateful and sacrificing creatures. I want to understand us (humanity) better and, for me, understanding of humanity comes from writing fiction, and examining what people might do when they feel no one is watching, what people are capable of (horrible and great), and imaging how seemingly normal people would react if they had exhausted the rational (and sometimes irrational) options. I hope you will join me in my quest to reveal the darkest and brightest aspects of human nature...what will we do when the lights are out?”

-Dirk Knight.

Dirk Knight