Aunty Lucy was my mother’s only sister. If there ever was a selfless and compassionate person, it had to be her. I always wondered why she never got married because she was wife material through and through. Clearly, the men in her generation were too blind to see the treasure in her.
She used to be a nurse before her voluntary retirement many years ago and it used to baffle me how she never found any nice man “in her line of duty”…maybe a patient or their brother, son or uncle who liked a nice nurse. At least there had to be someone who liked her enough to want to be with her but there was none.
From time to time, she used to tell the sad story of a guy she fancied when she was much younger but unfortunately he had his eyes on another girl. I felt sorry for her because it was obvious that time had not healed her broken heart. He was the only man she ever loved and I could hear the pain in her voice whenever she talked about him.
A few years ago after my father died mysteriously and mom’s health suddenly began to decline, Aunty Lucy decided to move into our family home permanently so she could be close to her sister and also take care of her. This was a typical Aunt Lucy behavior, she always put other people’s feelings ahead of her’s. It was a huge relief to have her take care of mom instead of having a random stranger as her care giver. It didn’t even make sense for her to continue living in a rented apartment when we had several empty rooms at the family house.
As my mother’s youngest child and the one that lived closest to home (although it was a two hour drive away), I made it my duty to visit her regularly but I couldn’t continue to do that after I got a promotion at the office. I shared my concerns with my girlfriend Carol, who was also my colleague, and she suggested that we plant security camera chipsets around the house.
That way I get to monitor activities at the house from any where in the world. I wanted to tell my aunt about it but for some strange reason Carol kicked against it and I decided to go with her suggestion to be discreet about it. By the way, everyone thought I worked for the State CID but I was actually with the Secret Service.
I hardly had time to watch the security cameras after they were installed because I trusted my aunt and I knew that my mother was in very good hands but Carol had a different opinion about that…she argued that the purpose for putting those cameras had to be utilized. I told her that she had trust issues and she complained that I was too trusting. With her constantly breathing down my neck, I decided to start paying a little attention to the cameras. A little attention was all it took for me to see how aunty Lucy maltreated my mother and force fed her with substances that I suspected were harmful. I was out of the country at the time so I detailed a nurse from the Secret Service Medic to resume at my family house and take care of my mother until I got back. She was not to allow my aunt anywhere near my mother but she wasn’t going to make it look obvious. I informed Aunty Lucy that I was sending someone to relieve her of the stress but she refused and continued to assure me that she had everything under control, of course I ignored her.
The stand in care giver reported that there were bruises on mom’s body which Aunty Lucy had always successfully disguised with clothes. My heart was torn in pieces. What did my mom ever do to her sister to deserve such cruelty? I was filled with rage and wanted so badly to make her pay for everything she did. I couldn’t concentrate on my assignment so I was forced to cut the trip short.
My siblings didn’t want me to have anybody’s blood on my hands so they made sure they flew back with me because they did not trust what I would do to Aunty Lucy if I set my eyes on her.
We returned to a warm welcome from our mother. The last time any one of us saw her, she had been in a poorly state and could barely recognise us. Her recovery was slow, she was still frail but you could actually see that she was making significant progress. The smile on her face was coming back and it was such a joy to see.
The way we stormed into the house was enough clue for Aunty Lucy to know that we knew what she had been up to and her game was up. But the question was why? Why was she slowly killing her only sister? Her response was blood chilling. She has been bearing this grudge for the longest time and had no regrets about her actions. Her story was that the only man she ever loved had rebuffed her advances and married her sister. She never forgave the both of them and seeing them so happy after so many years was a reminder of what would have been hers that was why she took dad out when she did and mom was next. Her jealousy was deeply seethed, she had nursed it for so long and she was set to carry out her vendetta.
This was shocking because we have loved this woman all our lives so hearing her confession was such a hard pill to swallow. But the more I looked at her, the more I felt hatred welling up from within me.
There’s a thin line between love and hate and she crossed the line when she came after my parents. My intention was to hold her hostage and feed her those things she’s been giving to my mother but my siblings would have none of that. They insisted that this was a crime and it should be reported to the appropriate authorities, then we sit back and allow the law to run it’s course. It was a nice way to handle the situation but surely Aunty Lucy did not deserve anything nice. Eventually, she put on trial and she was going to serve a very long jail term but I felt it was a lenient punishment for the crime she committed.
My family will never recover from this act of betrayal from the one person we trusted the most. How could our favourite aunt harbour an age old grudge against our parents? How could she live with such a thing for more than 35 years? How could an old woman conceive such evil in her heart?
If she had succeeded in killing her only sister, I wonder what her next line of action would have been. That woman was evil. She did not deserve a life sentence, she deserved worse.
After my siblings left, Carol and I decided to pay a visit to the prison where Aunty Lucy was confined. I was surprised to hear that this old woman was not a tad bit remorseful about why she was there and she was bragging as she told her her story with such entitlement. She painted the picture of the victim and I concluded that she was obviously delusional or she needed mental evaluation. Just before we left, I noticed Carol having a conversation with her friend who was a warder at the prison.
It was however a coincidence to learn that Aunty Lucy died in her sleep the same night I visited we visited.
Yes, it was a coincidence. No further questions. Thank you.
