Mallet
The doorbell rings.
Polka walks down the stairs to get the door.
“Aunty! Uncle! What a surprise! Please come in.”
Polka invites her uncle and aunt in but wishes she didn’t have to. She isn’t very fond of her family. She hasn’t talked to her mother in 6 months. She skypes her brothers sometimes. Polka likes to keep away from the family.
So when Aunty and Uncle suddenly turn up at her doorstep, she is a little taken aback and curious.
Why?
None of them move. They are acting weird. They’re just staring down at Polka, emotionless.
“Why don’t you guys step in?,” Polka smiles and opens the door wider.
She really wonders why they won’t talk, or move.
Aunty reaches into her bag, pulls out a mallet and starts ramming at uncle’s head at the doorstep.
Uncle doesn’t even wince. He doesn’t retaliate. He doesn’t try to stop her. Aunty just pummels his head into a pulp. The blood splatter is spectacular.
Polka stands there, shocked! She wants to scream but somebody sewed her mouth close with barbed wire. She can taste the blood and the tang from the metal of the wire. She isn’t able to move her jaw. She can feel the wire piercing through her lips. The pain is excruciating.
She tries to move but Aunty is done with smashing Uncle’s head. She had that expressionless look all along. She turns towards Polka.
Swinging the mallet once again, “Your turn,” Aunty says.
…
Polka wakes up to her alarm beeping wildly.
Almost as wild as her heart.
It’s 11:00 AM.
She checks her phone. Some emails. 8 text messages in the “home” group on the messenger app. One “Good morning, polkalicious” from the girlfriend. She smiles.
The doorbell rings. Polka walks down the stairs to get the door.
Nobody.
She looks around to check. Nothing.
She finds a bloody mallet at the door with a note.
“Your Turn.”
