《The Goblin Tales of St. Basile》


 Nightmare

    Bernadette stands in complete darkness, an unsettling odor filling the air around her. She tries to discern the source of the smell but can''t identify it. The floor beneath her feels uneven, as if she''s walking on garden soil.


    Slowly, she makes her way forward, only to step on something sharp. Reflexively, she lifts her foot. "Ouch! What the hell is this?" she exclaims, squinting in the darkness.


    Suddenly, the lights flicker on, revealing her computer room. Everything is as it should be: her desk, the computer in front of the window, and dozens of plants spread throughout the small room. "What''s going on here?" she wonders aloud, her voice trembling slightly.


    Her eyes are drawn to sharp pieces of pottery sticking out of the soil-covered floor. Terrified, she realizes that she almost cut herself on the shards. "Oh, come on, what¡¯s this now?" she mutters, tightening the belt of her bathrobe. Discouraged, she wonders how she will clean up the mess when a noise grabs her attention¡ªa discrete crackling sound, followed by another.


    Bernadette looks around, then jumps and screams in terror at the sight of a humanoid shape under the desk, staring straight at her. She pulls herself together and demands in a firm voice, ?Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? ?


    The shadow silently lifts a finger. Bernadette hesitates, then follows its gesture with her eyes. Above the computer desk, a flowerpot suspended by the window is slowly cracking. Horrified, she watches as the crack widens. She wants to catch the pot but her body refuses to move, paralysed where she stands.


    ?Why can¡¯t I move? ?. She tries a bit harder, but her muscles won¡¯t cooperate. Her eyes remain fixed on the flowerpot. The crack spreads, and when it reaches the edge, the pottery begins to tremble softly. Powerless, she continues to struggle against the paralysis but to no avail.


    The flowerpot breaks in half and falls directly on the desk, smashing on the computer keyboard. The impact pushes the keyboard to the side, where it gets stuck on the corner of the desk and flips violently, projecting the plant and half the pot directly towards the window. The window shatters under under Bernadette''s incredulous gaze. She can¡¯t believe what just happened.


    Disheartened, she stops fighting the paralysis, speechless as the scene unfolds. Finding her voice, she lets out a long string of curses. Meanwhile, the light around her starts fading gradually. ?What the heck is going on NOW? ? she exclaims.


    As everything goes black, she hears a familiar feminine voice she can¡¯t quite place. It whispers in her ear, wake up.


    Bernadette wakes with a start, sitting up in bed, sweaty and disoriented. She takes a deep breath and looks around.


    In her bed, in the middle of the night, she realises it was the most terrifying nightmare of her life. Though she knows it was a nightmare, Bernadette can¡¯t help but worry about her plants. Determined, she grabs her bathrobe, puts her slippers on and leaves her room.


    She goes to the neighboring room and turns on the lights. Seeing everything in perfect order¡ªno garden soil on the floor, no shattered window, and most importantly, her plants intact¡ªshe breathes a sigh of relief. Hand on her chest, she relaxes. As she leaves the room, she glances below the desk but sees nothing unusual, no shadows.


    Bernadette returns to her room. ?2 a.m., ahh crap the night is almost over,? she grumbles. She finds a comfortable position to go back to sleep but stays awake for fifteen minutes, wondering, "If dreams have significance, what the hell does this one mean?"


    After breathing in deeply for awhile and reassuring herself, she finally drifts off to sleep again, this time to peaceful and tranquil dreams.


    The sun starts to shine gently on the town of St-Basile. Bernadette wakes up to the first rays filtering through her bedroom curtains. As per her faithful habit, she sits up, stretches her arms and yawns widely. She ends her morning routine by scrubbing her eyes awake. Heading straight to the coffee maker, she waits impatiently for her cup to fill and savors her first sip.


    Armed with her cup in hand, she grabs a little watering can and goes around her three-bedroom apartment, carefully watering her plants. Each one receives a specific amount of water, never more and never less, along with its daily dose of praises.


    Once her plants are tended to, Bernadette feels a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. However, her stomach brings her back to reality with a loud gurgle. "You had water; now it¡¯s my turn to eat!" she says with a smile.


    She goes to the kitchen and sets the table meticulously, placing each item¡ªplacemat, utensils, covers¡ªin its perfect spot. Everything must be perfect. Coffee, toast, creton, cheese and grapes. Bernadette takes a few seconds to admire her feast, salivating at the thought of eating it all. She¡¯s still missing something, though. She turns on the TV to the news channel, ready to enjoy her breakfast.


    She quickly devours two grapes and a piece of cheese, washing it down with toast slathered in fatty creton. As her tongue touches the edge of the toast, her old phone rings with an irritating tone. The interruption is maddening, ?Fricking hell, will I be able to eat in peace or what? ? she mutters. With a deep breath, she answers the phone. "Yes! What?"


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    Bernadette jumps and holds the phone away from her ear as she hears a woman crying and shouting incomprehensible words. The voice is interrupted by tears and wailing. She listens for a few moments trying to make sense of the chaos, but quickly loses her patience.


    She interrupts the woman on the phone, ?Hey, calm the hell down, ¨¦lise, I don¡¯t understand anything you¡¯re saying. Start from the beginning and stop bawling. ? Surprised, ¨¦lise pulls herself together, her breathing slows as the crying subsides. Once she gains control of her emotions, she starts over, "Good morning, Mom. "


    "Alright, go ahead and tell me what¡¯s going on, but don¡¯t cry or I won¡¯t understand anything," Bernadette responds, her eyes drifting to the creton toast and the cup of coffee that¡¯s losing its warmth.


    "Mom, I can¡¯t anymore. I¡¯ll go crazy, I can¡¯t keep this up. You have to do something, or I won¡¯t be responsible for the consequences," ¨¦lise says, her voice still trembling.


    "Tell me what¡¯s happened¡­ again? " Bernadette says, her tone a mix of concern and impatience as she eyes her breakfast, impatient to get back to it.


    ¡°It¡¯s Lea and Dylan, I can¡¯t tolerate it anymore. They¡¯re always quarreling, always something going on. It¡¯s like they¡¯re possessed!¡± ¨¦lise starts wailing again, her words becoming unintelligible.


    Bernadette reaches for the cheese on the table but can¡¯t quite get to it, frustrating her. ¡°Stop crying for heaven¡¯s sake. I¡¯m getting tired just hearing you. I¡¯ll hang up if you keep that up.¡± she warns, irritation creeping into her voice.


    ¨¦lise sniffles, dries her tears, and starts again. ¡°Mom, help me, please just do something. I¡¯m begging you.¡±


    Still eyeing her breakfast, she searches for a solution to her daughter¡¯s problem but can barely concentrate. A brilliant idea comes to mind. ¡°Bring them here. I¡¯ll babysit for the day. How¡¯s that?¡±.


    In a fraction of a second, ¨¦lise¡¯s voice goes from desperate to overjoyed. ¡°Seriously?! Yes, it¡¯s a great idea! THANK YOU, MOM! You¡¯re the best.¡±


    When the conversation runs dry, Bernadette concludes with a brief ¡°I¡¯ll wait for you¡± and hurriedly hangs up the phone. Determined, she returns to the table, thinking to herself, "Always something to spoil my mornings, it seems."


    Bernadette¡¯s mood changes instantly when she realises her toasts are cold and the perfection of her breakfast is forever ruined. This doesn¡¯t prevent her from gobbling down everything until the last crumbs, however. Something bothers her constantly though: wondering how the two angels, Lea and Dylan, could have put ¨¦lise in such a state. Have they changed that much since last year?


    Despite not having an answer, she prepares mentally to keep a close eye on them, just in case. She¡¯s ready to be strict, if necessary. ¡°I educated one daughter; I can do the same for two,¡± she thinks.


    Standing in front of her kitchen sink, full of soapy water, she scrupulously cleans up the small number of dishes she used. Bernadette thinks of her daughter, a strange thought floating in her mind. ¡°Did ¨¦lise exaggerate all that just to have me babysit her kids?¡±.


    Suddenly, something catches her attention through the window. She peeks through the vines of a hanging plant and observes attentively. A yellow sports car speeds up her driveway, not slowing down at all. She can¡¯t help but criticize her daughter. ¡°How reckless!¡±


    In the middle of the driveway, the car drifts and ends its course a few meters from the wooden steps of the apartment. Hastily, a young woman gets out and opens the back door, repeating to her kids, ¡°Come on, come on, hurry up.¡± She rushes them up the stairs and towards the apartment.


    The little girl proudly boasts about her mother¡¯s driving technique and how she can drift easily. ¨¦lise doesn¡¯t seem to care, however. Lea is the first to arrive, followed by her brother Dylan. She opens the door without knocking and shouts happily, ¡°Grandma!¡±


    The sight of her grandkids makes Bernadette happy. She ignores ¨¦lise, who enters last. Struggling to put a knee down, she opens her arms wide for Lea. The little girl throws herself in Bernadette¡¯s arms and they hug her affectionately.


    After exchanging some words, Bernadette compliments Lea¡¯s pretty blonde hair and how fast she¡¯s growing. Lea moves aside, and Bernadette shifts her attention to Dylan, who stands timidly by the kitchen window with his hands in his pocket.


    The sun¡¯s rays hit the vines in front of the window, casting a green glow on Dylan¡¯s face, giving him a mischievous look when coupled with his smirk.


    Bernadette can¡¯t help but laugh at the light¡¯s reflection on him. She opens her arms for her grandson, and Dylan jumps in her embrace.


    Some time later, Bernadette supports herself up, struggling due to her corpulence.


    ¡°Thank you, Mom! It¡¯s really kind of you to take them. I really needed it!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, still driving recklessly, though!¡±


    ¨¦lise rolls her eyes as she turns to leave. Just before closing the door, she says, ¡°Ok, gotta go. Thanks again. I¡¯ll pick them up tomorrow morning. Bye!¡±


    Bernadette barely has the time to register what she said before exclaiming, ¡°What?!¡± But ¨¦lise has already shut the door and goes down the stairs two at a time. Without turning back, she gets in the car, revs the engine a couple times, and leaves at full throttle.


    Shaking her head helplessly, Bernadette turns to Dylan and Lea, quickly getting distracted.


    Dylan sticks closely to her side, following her everywhere while she talks with Lea. The plants filling the apartment become a lively topic of discussion as she gives them a plant tour of the home.


    Lea listens attentively, participating with her meagre knowledge of herbalism. Bernadette is surprised to see how curious Lea has become, unlike her mother.


    They complete the tour after half an hour and run out of conversation topics. A brief awkward silence ensues.


    To break the awkwardness, Bernadette offers them something to drink. Dylan, suddenly full of life and excitement, interrupts Lea. ¡°Apple juice, Grandma! We want apple juice!¡±


    Lea appears a bit embarrassed but prefers not to contradict her little brother.


    Grabbing glasses for them, Bernadette asks what activities they¡¯d like to do.


    Dylan runs and grabs a bag; opening it to reveal a collection of toys and miniature cars. Meanwhile, Lea looks at Bernadette with a hopeful expression. "Grandma, can I use your computer to chat with my friends?"


    She leaves them to their activities, seeing no immediate problems. In her mind though, she remains cautious. The memory of ¨¦lise¡¯s frantic phone call lingers in her mind, casting a shadow over the peaceful scene.


    ¡°Did she just want to get rid of them or was really serious?¡± Bernadette wonders, her brow furrowing slightly. She decides it''s best not to take any risks and to stay alert.

 Observation

    Dylan begins playing in the back room with his toy cars, and Bernadette can hear him creating imaginary scenarios, thoroughly enjoying himself. L¨¦a, meanwhile, goes to the middle room, sits calmly at the computer, and opens an online chat page. In no time, she is overwhelmed by windows popping up, and her fingers fly across the keyboard like an experienced secretary.


    From the center of the kitchen, Bernadette sits at the table, observing them attentively. Are they scheming something? she wonders. Will this peace and quiet last? She remains silent, waiting for the slightest misstep. But after fifteen minutes, nothing happens¡ªcomplete silence.


    Feeling optimistic and self-assured, she thinks to herself, Maybe this day will be easier than I thought. These kids aren''t so bad after all.


    As the minutes pass, Bernadette doesn''t want to remain idle. She has certain tasks to complete today, and since she dislikes procrastinating, she decides to kill two birds with one stone and start on the sewing she needs to finish.


    Still slightly wary, she enters the room and moves the sewing machine near the door so she can easily stretch her neck to see the entire hallway and spot any potential trouble. With her wealth of experience, she operates her sewing machine at full speed, skillfully repairing and hemming one piece after another.


    Despite the clamor of the machine, Bernadette''s keen ear catches the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She immediately stretches her neck and looks into the corridor, where she sees L¨¦a slowly approaching Bernadette''s room. L¨¦a is surprised to see Bernadette''s face in the doorway but continues towards her. "Grandma, can I have another glass of juice, please?"


    Bernadette breathes a sigh of relief. False alarm, she thinks to herself, smiling as she gets up to pour another glass of juice.


    Might as well get ahead of it, she walks towards the middle room and interrupts Dylan. "Another glass of juice?" Startled, Dylan quickly responds, "No, thank you, Grandma."


    Bernadette''s immediate suspicion prompts her to scan the small room meticulously for anything unusual. Her gaze soon fixes on Dylan''s juice glass, strangely untouched. "You haven''t had your juice yet?" she queries suspiciously. Dylan hesitates, then responds, "Not yet, Grandma. Can I keep it and sip it slowly?"


    After her thorough inspection reveals nothing amiss, Bernadette''s initial wariness dissipates. "Alright then," she says, her tone easing, "you can carry on playing quietly."


    Bernadette waits a few minutes before resuming her sewing. She watches them from a distance and listens very attentively. Once certain everything is under control, she starts sewing again with her heavy-duty machine.


    Twenty minutes later Bernadette''s vigilant ear catches an unusual noise. Instantly, she stretches her neck again and looks into the corridor.


    L¨¦a is up again, but this time, she heads to the bathroom and closes the door behind her. Shortly after, the toilet flushes, and Bernadette hears L¨¦a washing her hands slowly. "Good, good, I won¡¯t have to tell her we must always wash our hands after using the toilet."


    Bernadette steps back, discreetly watching the corridor. Will she go bother her little brother, or will she return to the computer room?


    L¨¦a exits the bathroom without even noticing Bernadette who¡¯s observing her, ready to pounce at any moment. She heads back to the computer room. Bernadette starts to doubt her suspicions about her grandchildren. Am I overreacting? Am I exaggerating a bit?


    Despite the racket of her machine, Bernadette remains vigilant, attuned to every single noise that breaks through the din. Another twenty minutes later, one of Bernadette''s ears twitches at an almost imperceptible sound raising her hackles once again.


    L¨¦a returns to the corridor. No, there must be something here, she¡¯s testing me for sure.


    L¨¦a heads to the kitchen and places her empty glass in the sink, still unaware of Bernadette¡¯s gaze observing her from the door frame. L¨¦a quickly returns to the computer.


    I¡¯m watching you, young lady, I¡¯m watching you, Bernadette repeats to herself, but her reasoning begins to outweigh her suspicion. At least I won''t have to chase empty glasses around the apartment, that''s a good thing. With a certain satisfaction, she resumes her sewing, running the machine at full speed again.


    A few minutes after L¨¦a, it¡¯s Dylan¡¯s turn to leave the room. Ah, looks like it¡¯ll be Dylan then, she thinks, ready to intervene. She lets him be but watches his every move, as if waiting for the perfect moment to step in and catch him in the act. Dylan continues with what he¡¯s doing, oblivious to the watchful eyes upon him.


    Dylan heads to the kitchen table, pulls out a chair, and slowly, without any discretion, drags it to the sink.


    Bernadette waits for the misstep, ready to pounce like an enraged lioness, but her heart melts in two seconds when she sees Dylan running water, rinsing his glass, then clumsily pouring soap and washing it with the same determination Bernadette shows when doing dishes.


    "Oh, what a sweet, adorable child," she says, stepping out of the room with a small smile. Dylan quickly notices her.


    He looks at her with an inquisitive expression, as if seeking her approval, as if he had done something he shouldn''t have.


    Worried, he clears his throat, "Look, Grandma, I washed my glass all by myself like a big boy... Are you proud of me?"


    She nods several times. "Yes, my boy, I¡¯m very proud of you. Congratulations."


    As happy as a child on Christmas morning, he gives her the biggest smile, puts the chair back, and returns to his toys.


    Feeling happy, Bernadette makes a tour of the rooms to check on her grandchildren. L¨¦a is at the computer, and Dylan is playing on the floor. Nothing has happened, she thinks, but at that moment, Bernadette''s attentive eye is drawn to the bathroom. Something unusual catches her attention.


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    At the back of the room, her laundry basket is open, which is odd since she always keeps it closed. She would be mortified if anyone saw her dirty clothes.


    Her heart pounding, she advances cautiously. What am I going to find?


    As she reaches the basket, Bernadette steps on a warm liquid, halting her instantly. Her eyes widen as she investigates. "It can''t be water from the sink, the toilet is too far, the tub hasn¡¯t been used."


    Terrified, she lifts her foot and touches the liquid with her fingers. Quickly, a strong odor hits her nose. "No, please, not that."


    A strong smell of urine saturates her nostrils, making her stomach churn. Bernadette''s face turns red with anger, but suddenly, she smells it again, and this time it seems to come from another place she can¡¯t locate.


    Sniffing like a dog, her nose leads her directly to the basket. "No, no, no, this can¡¯t be true."


    She picks a piece of clothing from the basket and, with trepidation, slowly brings it to her nose, realizing the odor comes from her clothes and specifically from the dirty laundry basket.


    Fury swells within Bernadette rapidly, causing her to breathe heavily. From an outsider''s perspective, she appears like a bull on the verge of charging. The urge to commit murder overwhelms her, but reason brings her back to earth without calming her much. It can only be L¨¦a, she¡¯s the only one who used the bathroom.


    Bernadette storms to the computer room, and from the doorway, she screams at the top of her lungs, "L¨¦A YOU LITTLE BRAT!"


    L¨¦a freezes in place, turning around with wide, anxious eyes. Her face is etched with worry, silently questioning what could have prompted her grandmother to call her so sharply. Before L¨¦a can ask what¡¯s going on, Bernadette rushes at her, grabs her by the ear, and twists it hard to punish her and make her feel the extent of her internal rage.


    In an authoritative voice, "Can you tell me why on earth you peed in my laundry basket, young lady?" L¨¦a desperately tries to understand what''s happening and quickly manages to reply, "What? What are you talking about, Grandma? I don¡¯t understand what you mean."


    Bernadette simply responds with "Oh, for heaven¡¯s sake," as she drags L¨¦a towards the bathroom and points to the laundry basket.


    "Do I need to treat you like a dog and put your nose in it?"


    "It wasn''t me, it wasn''t me, I swear, Grandma!"


    L¨¦a''s response only fuels Bernadette''s anger. "L¨¦a damn it! Don''t lie to me. You¡¯re the only one who used the toilet."


    Bernadette grabs a piece of clothing, throws it in the basket, and drags L¨¦a to the kitchen. L¨¦a complains the entire way because Bernadette''s grip leaves her little room to move. In the kitchen, Bernadette presses L¨¦a against the wall, holding her head against it while shouting, "FACE THE WALL, YOUNG LADY, AND DON''T MOVE UNTIL I TELL YOU TO, OR I SWEAR YOU¡¯LL REGRET IT."


    With her forehead against the wall, L¨¦a tries to hold back her tears but fails and starts crying uncontrollably, occasionally rubbing her sore ear.


    In the other room, Dylan startles at Bernadette''s scream, quickly rising to timidly peek into the doorway, his face twisted with fear. Catching sight of Bernadette''s expression, he dares not inquire about the commotion and promptly retreats to his bedroom.


    Meanwhile, L¨¦a stands sobbing with her forehead against the wall. Bernadette heads to the bathroom, retrieves the urine-soaked clothes, and promptly throws them into the washing machine, all the while keeping a vigilant eye on L¨¦a to ensure she remains by the wall. She uses twice as much detergent as necessary, determined to erase the smell.


    After an hour, Bernadette begins to wonder if she might be too harsh on L¨¦a, but she quickly convinces herself otherwise. No, I must be firm and teach her. Seated in her oversized wooden rocker, Bernadette sways gently, fixating on L¨¦a with an unwavering gaze that could chill the air. The rhythmic creak of the chair fills the otherwise silent room, punctuated only by L¨¦a''s subdued sobs echoing off the walls.


    An hour passes and she deems the punishment sufficient ¡°It¡¯s almost noon. You can leave the wall, BUT you¡¯re going to help me set the table for lunch, and I hope this serves as a lesson.¡±


    Submissive, L¨¦a doesn¡¯t dare add anything and merely wipes her eyes and nods. She heads to the kitchen cabinets and starts setting the table under Bernadette¡¯s watchful eye, who uses the time to warm up lunch.


    ¡°The utensils aren¡¯t straight, the glass goes on the right, the tablecloth isn¡¯t well-placed,¡± Bernadette critiques. In a deadly silence, L¨¦a does her best to satisfy her.


    Bernadette calls Dylan to join them at the table. She serves them one by one, followed by a ¡°bon app¨¦tit,¡± and together they start eating in absolute silence. Midway through the meal, Dylan is the first to break the uncomfortable silence, beginning to tell imaginary scenarios he created with his toys and how he spent his time.


    Dylan¡¯s intervention breaks the tension, and Bernadette nearly forgets her anger as she starts a conversation with him. It¡¯s only toward the end of the meal that L¨¦a joins in, giving the meal a semblance of normalcy.


    After a good hot meal, the two children head to the bathroom to brush their teeth under Bernadette¡¯s attentive supervision. Once she¡¯s certain they¡¯re doing it properly, she returns to the kitchen to start the dishes.


    When they¡¯re done, Dylan hurries to Bernadette and hands her the empty floss dispenser. ¡°There¡¯s no more, Grandma.¡±


    After making sure it¡¯s empty, she throws it in the trash and thanks Dylan for informing her. Happy to be helpful, he returns to the bedroom while L¨¦a is back behind her screen.


    Bernadette finishes the dishes while the children are each in their corners.


    Once the dishes are perfectly clean, she settles into her large wooden rocking chair and begins to sway gently. The aged chair creaks with each rhythmic movement, filling the apartment with an ominous undertone.


    Once settled, Bernadette pulls out a large basket filled with yarn and crochet hooks, then grabs a knitting project she¡¯s already started. Like a machine, she continues her knitting mechanically, the sound of the hooks and the rocking chair unnerving the two children, who feel like they have a sword of Damocles hanging over their heads.


    Time flies by as Bernadette focuses on her knitting and listens for any suspicious noises. The children are not left to their own devices; she watches them constantly.


    An hour passes in the blink of an eye before she¡¯s interrupted by the ringing of her old kitchen phone.


    Struggling slightly to rise, she answers the call, quickly engaging in a conversation with her daughter ¨¦lise. This doesn¡¯t fail to catch L¨¦a and Dylan¡¯s attention, who quickly run to Bernadette for news of their mother.


    When Bernadette explains to her daughter that, except for a small misbehavior, everything is fine, she can¡¯t help but glance at L¨¦a, sending a shiver down her spine. In a mocking tone, Bernadette adds, ¡°How can you have so much trouble with them? They¡¯re not that bad.¡±


    When ¨¦lise bursts into laughter, Bernadette quickly moves the phone away from her ear, the laughter echoing loudly on the line. After the laughter dies down, they return to their conversation, during which ¨¦lise mentions that she spent the day enjoying a spa treatment and massage.


    This confirms Bernadette¡¯s suspicion from that morning. She made up a story to get rid of them, but reason prevails, and she¡¯s glad her daughter is enjoying her day. Bernadette encourages her daughter to make the most of her day and ends the call to give news to the two children in front of her, who are desperately waiting for news of their mother.


    Bernadette takes a few moments to explain to them that their mother needed some time to relax and unwind from the difficulties of life and their behavior.


    Upon hearing this, L¨¦a and Dylan exchange looks, and within moments, they begin pointing fingers at each other, escalating into an argument over who is to blame, their voices gradually rising.


    Bernadette watches them, taking a few seconds to listen to their accusations, but she quickly ends the squabble with a simultaneous slap to the back of each child¡¯s head.


    Surprised and stunned, they stop instantly, and neither dares to add anything while Bernadette looms over them with her strict demeanor.


    ¡°Go back to your activities and stop fighting. Do I make myself clear?¡±

 Unrest

    Sitting in her large wooden rocking chair, Bernadette gently rocks back and forth, occasionally glancing outside to catch snippets of neighborhood gossip. Suddenly, realizing how beautiful the day is, an idea crosses her mind: Why not take them outside? If they get tired enough, they''ll be quiet.


    In a firm, authoritative voice, she calls the children to her. "How about we go play outside? What do you think?"


    Dylan and L¨¦a eagerly agree without hesitation, their faces lit up with joy. They head down to the backyard, and Bernadette brings out a few toys to keep them occupied: a ball, a frisbee, and some chalk to draw on the ground. The children are as happy as if it were their birthday morning. Together, they play with the ball and invite Bernadette to join them. She hesitates for a few seconds before agreeing; What wouldn¡¯t I do to make them happy?  She thinks, stretching her legs and exchanging a few passes with them.


    Three minutes later, Bernadette realizes she¡¯s not twenty anymore. Her body aches, and every movement requires more effort than it used to. Yet, the sight of her grandchildren¡¯s bright smiles fuels her determination, pushing her to keep going. But just as Bernadette moves toward the ball, her neighbor steps outside and leans against the metal fence. Seizing the perfect excuse to take a break, she straightens up and waves, grateful for the momentary reprieve.


    "Sorry, kids, but my neighbor needs to talk to me. Continue without me; I''ll be back to play soon," she calls out, seizing the chance. She heads toward the fence to join her neighbor, catching her breath. With one arm resting on the fence, she chats with her neighbor while keeping an eye on Dylan and L¨¦a.


    The children enjoy their playtime, laughing and exchanging passes. Nothing suggests any trouble, and Bernadette lets her guard down during the conversation. They dive right into the neighborhood gossip: dissecting every word Mrs. Lauzon uttered, who''s been caught doing what, and of course, who hasn''t lived up to their end of the bargain¡ª just the usual juicy chatter between women of their age.


    Bernadette intervenes occasionally, reminding the children to lower their voices to avoid disturbing the neighbors.


    But the one time Bernadette fully turns her head to speak with her neighbor, she hears Dylan shout, "NOT TOO HARD!"


    Bernadette watches as the ball hurtles straight towards Dylan''s face. The impact reverberates sharply, signaling to Bernadette that the afternoon might be coming to an abrupt end.


    Dylan is knocked to the ground by the ball''s impact, eyes wide as he stares at the horizon. Within moments, he breaks down in tears, crying out incomprehensibly, much like his mother had done earlier that morning.


    She rushes to his side along with L¨¦a, while the neighbor discreetly retreats indoors. Only L¨¦a¡¯s words reverberate loudly in the yard: "It was an accident, I didn¡¯t mean to!" L¨¦a is visibly shaken, fearing the consequences. But Bernadette, with incredible composure, takes Dylan''s face in her hands to assess the damage. When she sees Dylan¡¯s little nose starting to bleed, she calmly takes a handkerchief, presses it against his nose, and holds him in her arms as L¨¦a desperately tries to explain the accident.


    As Bernadette comforts Dylan, she turns to face L¨¦a. Panic is evident on L¨¦a''s face when Bernadette looks at her, but Bernadette¡¯s words calm her instantly: "I know, I know. Calm down. It was an accident, I saw everything."


    L¨¦a lets out a long sigh of relief, while Dylan, still cradled in Bernadette''s arms, suddenly bursts out, "But Grandma, she did it on purpose! It¡¯s obvious she threw it super hard," his voice choked with tears once more. L¨¦a panics internally for a few seconds, fearing that Dylan might change Bernadette¡¯s mind about the accident, but Bernadette interrupts him with a firm tone, "Hey, that''s enough. It was an accident. These things happen. It¡¯s not the end of the world, so stop."


    She checks Dylan¡¯s nose again to ensure the bleeding has stopped, then comforts him before turning her attention back to the shattered moment.


    She sets Dylan down and quickly glances to see if her neighbor is still by the fence, but to her dismay, she finds the neighbor gone. Disappointed that her daily gossip fix has been cut short,  Bernadette resigns herself to wait until tomorrow for more updates on her neighbors. She sits on the stairs, her mood dampened despite the sunshine. Encouraging the children to resume play, she watches them quietly this time.


    L¨¦a moves away from her little brother and prefers to play alone in a corner while Dylan tries to regain Bernadette¡¯s attention but she sits with a lifeless stare, her disappointment palpable as though her world has been shattered by the interruption.


    After an hour of watching them play separately, Bernadette pulls herself together. It''s not the end of the world... catching up on the latest gossip... after everyone else. She lets out a long, melodramatic sigh of discouragement and calls out to the children, "Kids, it¡¯s almost time for dinner. Come on, let''s go inside."


    Dylan and L¨¦a exchange a look of animosity just before climbing the stairs under Bernadette¡¯s watchful gaze. As Bernadette climbs the stairs, fatigue overwhelms her again. The adrenaline from the little accident has faded, and the exhaustion from playing with the kids is setting in once more. Her mind wanders to the familiar question: "What are we going to eat?"


    Considering the options in the fridge, nothing appeals to her. Meanwhile, Dylan and L¨¦a stand before her, brimming with energy. I guess I failed. I wanted to tire them out, she mutters to herself. Out of sheer laziness, she gives in to convenience, "How about pizza? What do you think?" Within a second, the two children look at each other, their animosity disappearing as they scream with joy at Bernadette¡¯s suggestion. They cling to her as she calls the local pizzeria. Restlessly, they wait for the pizza delivery, each finding ways to occupy themselves, but the tension hangs heavy in the house. Every sound from outside grabs their immediate attention.


    When the delivery person knocks on the door, they are the first to arrive. Bernadette pays for the pizza, and they follow her like ducklings following their mother. Opening the box, Bernadette watches as they devour their slices, momentarily forgetting their earlier quarrel. At least this will calm them down, she thinks. A festive atmosphere fills the kitchen, and they engage in a lively conversation.


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    After the meal, Dylan approaches her with a soft voice, striking a princely pose. "Can I use the computer too?" Bernadette glances at L¨¦a to prevent her from opposing the request. "Yes, you can use it. L¨¦a has had her turn plenty today."


    Dylan settles at the computer while L¨¦a opts for the television. Bernadette takes the opportunity to wash the dishes quietly but keeps a watchful ear.


    An hour later, Dylan returns to the kitchen, where Bernadette is sitting in her old rocking chair, resting her sore feet. "What is it, my darling?" Dylan hesitates for a few seconds, searching for words. "I need help. I don¡¯t understand some things." Exasperated but patient, Bernadette calls out to L¨¦a in the living room, "L¨¦a, can you come explain to your little brother, please?"


    Without protesting, she joins him in the computer room. Bernadette keeps an eye on them.


    Calmly, L¨¦a explains the basics of computing to her little brother, patiently correcting things one by one. Bernadette closes her eyes for a few seconds but is quickly brought back to reality when Dylan gets up and leaves the computer room. "Can I have some juice, please?"


    Bernadette pours him a glass of juice and offers one to L¨¦a as well, who accepts. As L¨¦a gets up and leaves the computer room, Bernadette watches as the little girl¡¯s attention is drawn to something invisible behind her. Slowly, the world around Bernadette seems to grind to a halt, leaving her a helpless observer. In the filtered sunlight, Bernadette strains to discern what has caught L¨¦a''s interest.


    "Dental floss?" she mutters, her unease growing as she struggles to make sense of the unfolding scene, feeling detached and powerless to intervene.


    The floss gets caught between L¨¦a¡¯s fingers, and higher up, it pulls on a potted plant hanging on the wall, causing it to start tipping over.


    Bernadette yearns to act, to do something¡ªanything¡ªdesperately wishing her body could move faster, even as she knows deep down it''s already too late. She watches in horror as the plant teeters agonizingly slowly. "NOOO!" her mind screams, her heart sinking.


    When L¨¦a sees the plant tipping, she instinctively drops to the floor, covering her head with her hands and letting out a small scream of fear.


    The pot falls directly onto the computer desk, shattering on the keyboard and scattering black soil everywhere. The keyboard tips sideways, getting wedged between the desk and the chair, then catapults the remaining broken pot directly onto the shelf near the computer.


    Horrified, Bernadette witnesses the scene in slow motion, her heart breaking at the sight and her rage growing exponentially because she can¡¯t move.


    The broken pot fragments hit the shelf holding several other flower pots and plants. The impact knocks the shelf down, sending the pots crashing to the floor, scattering soil all over the room.


    "NO, NO, NO! NOT MY NIGHTMARE COME TRUE, IT¡¯S A DISASTER, SOMEONE KILL ME!!!"


    Bernadette finally manages to move a foot forward, inch by agonizing inch. Finally gaining control, she enters the room with Dylan following closely behind. Meanwhile, L¨¦a remains curled up on the floor, panicked and disoriented.


    Bernadette takes a deep breath even as she wants to scream, but her attention is drawn to something above the window. Another dental floss string moves, tethered to a pot. It suddenly comes loose, snagging the curtain rod and sending the pot hurtling toward the window.


    Before Bernadette could even raise her hand, the pot collided with the glass, smashing it into shards, and the plant plummeted two stories below. Her heart sank with a mixture of despair and rage, the sound of breaking glass piercing her soul. Her eye starts twitching furiously, and a murderous aura begins to emanate from her, enveloping the small room as a chilling cold settles in.


    After checking for any lingering danger, L¨¦a slowly lifts her head to assess the situation. As she does, a wave of terror washes over her upon encountering Bernadette''s intense, lifeless gaze. Without a word, Bernadette directs Dylan towards the nearest wall with a firm push. She grabs L¨¦a by the ear and drags her back to the wall of punishment.


    "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, YOU LITTLE MONSTER, SERIOUSLY?!"


    As Bernadette forces L¨¦a against the wall, her anger explodes into a torrent of uncontrollable spanking, each strike prompting immediate tears from L¨¦a.


    Each slap reverberates through the house, freezing Dylan in place as he watches, afraid to even flinch, lest he draw attention to himself.


    Bernadette loses track of how many times she strikes, but finally halts, her conscience demanding she stop after a dozen. L¨¦a''s legs tremble, her body frozen with despair as she weeps inconsolably.


    After this scene of violence, Bernadette turns to Dylan and gestures for him to come forward. Dylan steps forward slowly, like a condemned man walking to his execution. "You sit at the table and stay silent. Is that clear?!" Dylan doesn¡¯t resist and sits at the table, hands on his thighs, back straight, discreetly observing Bernadette.


    She quickly grabs bags and everything needed to clean up the mess in the computer room, not forgetting to barricade the window.


    While working, she mutters things under her breath the children can¡¯t understand, furious as she picks up her plants and flowers as if handling lifeless bodies. A tear in her eye, she works tirelessly, occasionally sticking her head out to check if the children have moved.


    Every time she looks at them, Dylan''s eyes silently inquire: "Will we be executed tonight or at dawn?"


    Bernadette''s curses and mutterings fill the house with a heavy gloom, and as she hauls the trash bags outside, an icy chill seems to trail behind her. It takes Bernadette a grueling two hours to tidy everything up, her rage unabated throughout. She''s compelled to pause periodically, visibly struggling to regain her composure in the simmering tension.


    Once the work is done, she heads toward L¨¦a, looking down at her. She restrains herself from hitting her again, a sliver of humanity holding her back. "Young lady, what you did is unforgivable," she says, pointing to a small cot in her room. Without another word, L¨¦a understands her life is spared for tonight, but she must go to bed immediately and in silence. She can¡¯t help but whisper a faint "sorry." Bernadette remains impervious to L¨¦a and watches her settle into bed for the night. L¨¦a lies down with tears in her eyes, struggling to sleep on her back because of the pain in her buttocks.


    In the midst of the tense atmosphere, Dylan waits for the perfect moment to ask if he can leave the table. When he judges the timing to be right, he inquires, only to receive Bernadette''s cold and lifeless reply: "You can go play in the kitchen... quietly."


    Dylan complies and brings a few small cars, while Bernadette takes her place on the chair, knitting and watching Dylan play. Most of her attention, however, is fixed on the bedroom, keeping an eye on L¨¦a.


    Apparently, L¨¦a falls asleep quickly, which slightly calms Bernadette, allowing her to continue knitting and further calming herself.


    Time passes, and Dylan''s bedtime arrives. Precisely on time, she sends him to the small cot next to his sister. Without a word, he quietly goes to bed while Bernadette continues rocking in the kitchen, now giving 100% of her attention to the bedroom. ¡°No words or murmurs,¡± she repeats to herself, ¡°they will sleep, I¡¯m not their mother!¡±


    Bernadette rocks and mourns inwardly, Why did L¨¦a do such a thing? Why is she so mean?


    Minutes pass, then hours, and Bernadette¡¯s usual bedtime comes, but she resists fatigue, preferring to ensure the children are asleep before she goes to bed. Several times, she peeks into the bedroom to visually check if they are sleeping and nothing in particular catches her attention.


    Despite her frustrations, Bernadette steals a moment to look at them with the love of a grandmother and thinks, I still have good little children despite everything.


    When the clock strikes eleven, Bernadette can no longer resist fatigue. Discreetly, she heads to her bed and starts her usual routine: she sits, pulls the covers, tucks the blanket under her feet, and finally lies down.


    Bernadette takes deep breaths, trying to calm her anger and clear her mind for sleep. Yet, what soothes her most is the steady, calm breathing of her grandchildren, which gently lulls her into slumber.

 Duplicity

    The night hours crawl by slowly. Bernadette sleeps peacefully, her presence looming even in slumber, casting an intimidating aura. As dawn breaks, the first rays of sunlight filter through the bedroom window.


    Dylan sleeps sprawled out in his small cot, fists clenched, his breathing synchronized with Bernadette''s steady rythm.


    Meanwhile, L¨¦a lies on her back, hands behind her head, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling with a vacant expression. She struggles to blink and takes deep, steady breaths. When sunlight finally reaches her, L¨¦a feels a surge of energy. She glances at Bernadette, then at Dylan, and like a stealthy ninja, she slips out of bed silently, tiptoeing towards the bedroom door.


    Before leaving, she casts a final look at Bernadette. I have to do it, she repeats to herself.


    She crosses the kitchen, carefully avoiding the creaky spots on the floor, and makes her way to the living room. There, she grabs her backpack, opening it with utmost care to minimize noise, and places a few clothes inside before closing it again. Moving with stealth, she retraces her steps through the kitchen towards the front door. With a trembling hand, she grasps the door handle, freezing as she peers outside. You can do it, she urges herself once more.


    As she slowly turns the handle, she jumps at the sound of Dylan¡¯s sleepy voice, ¡°L¨¦a? What are you doing?¡± L¨¦a looks towards the bedroom. Dylan stands in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning.


    She hesitates for a moment, watching him with disgust. ¡°Enough is enough. I¡¯m leaving. I can¡¯t live like this anymore, not with you.¡±


    Dylan remains impassive. ¡°If you leave, Grandma will be furious.¡±


    Suppressing a bitter laugh, L¨¦a retorts, ¡°As if you ever cared about anyone else.¡±


    Dylan pauses, pondering for a few seconds. ¡°L¨¦a, come back to bed. I won¡¯t tell Grandma. I promise.¡± He attempts a charming smile, hoping to soften his sister¡¯s resolve, but it falls flat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t play that game with me. It won¡¯t work. Not anymore.¡±


    As the siblings face off like wary alley cats, a noise comes from the bedroom. Bernadette murmurs something in her sleep. Panic sets in, freezing the children in place. What will she do if she finds us up at this hour?


    Dylan steps aside and peeks into the bedroom, seeing Bernadette still asleep, having just turned over. After a long, tense minute, L¨¦a and Dylan exhale in relief. The standoff resumes. ¡°You know, Dylan,¡± L¨¦a asserts, her voice low and accusatory, ¡°I¡¯ve figured you out. I know who you really are. You¡¯re a monster, not even human.¡±


    Dylan, thrown off balance, searches for words, but L¨¦a cuts him off. ¡°I¡¯ve had plenty of time to think, and it all makes sense now. The mysterious flat tire on your teacher¡¯s car, the bleach in Mom¡¯s eye drops, the ink in the dryer¡ªit was all you, and I know it.¡± A chilling silence descends as the siblings lock eyes. Dylan lowers his head as if in shame, but a sinister smile slowly spreads across his face. He looks up at L¨¦a, his gaze icy. His smile hints at mischief. L¨¦a musters her courage and demands, ¡°Say something.¡±


    Dylan stifles a hysterical laugh, cautious not to wake Bernadette. ¡°So what if it was me? You¡¯ll never be able to prove it.¡± L¨¦a clenches her fists, suppressing the urge to strike him, feeling her anger rising as Dylan looks at her provocatively, taking a few steps towards her. He strokes his chin thoughtfully. ¡°You know what frustrates me the most? I couldn¡¯t pin any of it on you.¡±


    Tears well up in L¨¦a¡¯s eyes, but she holds them back. ¡°So, L¨¦a, is that why you¡¯re running away? It would be a shame if I woke Grandma to tell her you¡¯ve suddenly left, and that I couldn¡¯t stop you.¡±


    L¨¦a glances at the door behind her, hesitating as Dylan watches her intently, eager to see her reaction. In a sudden burst of emotion, L¨¦a grabs Dylan by the collar and raises her fist, but he remains composed, speaking calmly, ¡°If you hit me, everyone will think you¡¯re attacking your dear little brother. No one will believe you after that.¡± Her hand trembles as a tear rolls down her cheek. She releases him, and Dylan assumes a triumphant stance, a smirk playing on his lips.


    Dylan turns and signals for L¨¦a to return to the bedroom, but she hesitates, stepping back. ¡°You know, Dylan, I figured out why you insisted on apple juice this morning.¡±


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    ¡°Oh really? Go on, I¡¯m listening.¡± Dylan taunts, leaning casually against the wall. L¨¦a takes a deep breath. ¡°You planned this. You drank your juice quickly and then¡­ you peed in the glass, so you wouldn¡¯t need to go to the bathroom.¡±


    Dylan remains silent, waiting to see if she knows the full story, replying with a brief, ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°You knew I¡¯d leave at some point. You waited until I left the bathroom, then snuck in to pour your mess on Grandma¡¯s clothes. Afterward, you quietly went about your business, waiting for her to find it.¡±


    Dylan smirks. ¡°Nice theory, but Grandma would have noticed the glass.¡±


    L¨¦a shakes her head, frustrated. Does he take me for a fool? she thinks. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid. You played the part and washed your glass to remove all traces of what you did.¡±


    Dylan simulates applause to mockingly congratulate L¨¦a on her discovery. ¡°It¡¯s just sad you figured it out so late and have zero proof.¡±


    Disheartened, L¨¦a nods reluctantly. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right about that.¡±


    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve uncovered one little secret, can we just go back to bed?¡± Dylan suggests, feigning innocence.


    L¨¦a shakes her head defiantly. ¡°No, and I think I¡¯ve figured out the computer room incident too.¡± Dylan''s curiosity peaks as he focuses intently on her. ¡°Oh, do tell. But I doubt you have all the details,¡± he taunts.


    L¨¦a pauses, recalling the events. ¡°Your scheme started long before, during lunch when you emptied the dental floss dispenser.¡± Concentrated on her words, he nods without speaking. ¡°You played the part well when you gave it to Grandma, but you kept some hidden.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting theory, but it explains nothing.¡±


    Surprised, L¨¦a begins, ¡°What? Are you kidding me? After lunch, you insisted on using the computer, giving you time to set everything up.¡±


    Dylan quickly interjects, ¡°But I wasn¡¯t even there when it all went down, so you can¡¯t prove I orchestrated any of it.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± L¨¦a admits reluctantly.


    Dylan grins victoriously, ready to declare his innocence, but L¨¦a presses on. ¡°It was when you asked for help. You knew Grandma didn¡¯t understand computers, but you asked her for help, knowing she¡¯d ask me. Once in the room, you waited for the perfect moment, using a distraction to tie the floss to a button on my jacket. Then, at the precise moment, you found an excuse to leave.¡±


    Dylan rubs his hands together. ¡°Oh, we¡¯re getting to the good part.¡±


    ¡°Just as I stood up, the floss pulled a jar down.¡±


    L¨¦a''s eyes betray a hint of vulnerability as she recalls the chaotic moment. Dylan draws her attention back to him. ¡°Do you think I tied dental floss to every jar in the room?¡±


    Quick on her feet, L¨¦a retorts, ¡°No.¡± Then, with a sigh, ¡°No, that part¡¯s still a mystery. I¡¯m stumped on how you arranged the rest.¡±


    Dylan suddenly bursts into laughter muffling it quickly to avoid waking Bernadette, while L¨¦a shoots him a glare that screams, ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid and wake Grandma.¡±


    After a tense silence, listening for any stirrings from Bernadette, L¨¦a turns to the door, hand poised on the handle. ¡°Can you at least explain how you pulled off that trick?¡±


    Proudly, Dylan lifts his chin. ¡°Only two jars were rigged. The rest was sheer luck, pure brilliance. It was magnificent.¡±


    L¨¦a whirls around, scrutinizing Dylan intensely, searching for any sign of deception. ¡°Luck?¡±


    ¡°I was as surprised as you two. I admit, tying the floss to your jacket was child¡¯s play, but I didn¡¯t expect the computer keyboard to launch the rest of the jars, haha.¡±


    L¨¦a stares at him, mouth agape, struggling to find words. ¡°You said two¡ªwhat about the other floss?¡±


    ¡°Simple. When Grandma entered, I quietly pulled the other floss tied above the window. As easy as a lie,¡± Dylan explains nonchalantly.


    L¨¦a closes her eyes in dismay. ¡°You¡¯re insane. You broke her things, even the window. Besides destroying her things, you broke the window. Didn¡¯t you think it would hurt her?¡±


    Arms crossed, Dylan¡¯s tone remains detached. ¡°I don¡¯t care about her or anyone else. She¡¯s just another pawn on my chessboard.¡±


    My brother is a monster, L¨¦a thinks to herself. ¡°I was right, you¡¯re not human,¡± she says, looking at Dylan as if identifying a body in a morgue.


    ¡°You know, L¨¦a, life here is so boring. I hate this place, this town, these people.I just want to have fun, and this is the best way I¡¯ve found.¡± Dylan admits without remorse.


    L¨¦a looks at him with pity. ¡°Now that I know, I almost feel sorry for you.¡±


    Surprised, Dylan barely has time to respond before L¨¦a speaks loudly, ¡°I see you watching us, Grandma. You can come out now; we¡¯re done talking.¡±


    At those words, Dylan freezes, a chill coursing through his veins. An overwhelming sense of dread fills him. His entire world unravels before him, and every hair on his body stands on end.


    Silently, he begs that this is all a nightmare, praying fervently that Bernadette isn¡¯t standing behind him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he turns to face the source of his terror.


    Dread contorts his features as he meets Bernadette¡¯s gaze, looming over him. Her presence feels suffocating, her eyes piercing into his soul. With a swift motion, Bernadette slaps Dylan hard, sending him sprawling. Fear fills his eyes as he realizes the gravity of his actions.


    Bernadette¡¯s breathing is so heavy with anger that Dylan feels like he¡¯s facing a bull. He wants to cry, but the emotional shock renders him speechless. He feels as if his life is ending tonight. This is a nightmare; I want to wake up, is all he can think. Grabbing Dylan by the ear, Bernadette drags him to the punishment wall, tossing a chair aside. Dylan tries to justify himself, but Bernadette, consumed by rage, starts to spank him relentlessly, tears streaming down his face.


    L¨¦a watches from the window, her expression blank. As sunlight filters through the hanging plants, it casts a greenish hue across her face.


    L¨¦a murmurs softly, ¡°Oh, my dear brother, I promise you, from today on, you and I will have some interesting times together, just you and me.¡±


    THE END