“I consider myself one of the buried. After-all I did spend most of my life underground.”-Primrose
Her name is Belladonna. The belladonna flower is beautiful like her and deadly like her as well. But, I didn’t know this when I met her. The name was as beautiful as her and I fell fast and hard for her. It was only when we were planning our marriage that her deadly side began to show itself.
I’d made up my mind to call the wedding off. Shortly after I made this decision she announced her pregnancy. By the gleam in her eye, I could tell this was to make me stay. And it did. Truly, I never left and never will.
I did try. Only days after our child was born I caught her with another. I will admit I was relieved. I told her I was leaving with the baby. My relief must have been apparent because she flew into a fury. I should have never shown her how to lock the hidden basement door.
I thought she’d be happy to see us gone. I was wrong. I’ve never been so wrong in my life.
Or un-life as it were.
I don’t know why I didn’t go wherever people go when they die. Maybe it was spite. The thought of making Belladonna’s life a misery does have its appeal. More likely it was the cries of my Primrose that held me back.