“Help me! Get some water, something!!” Jenny shrieked, her voice cracking into a desperate, animalistic wail as her skin turned raw and blistered.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Belinda hissed, her voice cold and sharp. “You’re smarter than that, Jenny. Or maybe not.”
Convulsing in agonizing torment, her skin began to melt off her body and slough onto the ground, her muscles starting to glisten beneath the raw, blistered surface. Her delicate freckles stood out more vividly against the charred, peeling flesh.
She screamed for help, but her voice was drowned in a gurgling, wet roar as the acid slithered down her throat, devouring her vocal cords in a bloody, molten mess. Jenny’s body jerked and spasmed, her limbs trembling uncontrollably as the corrosive chemical ate through her kneecaps and melted her tendons into useless, bubbling goo. She couldn’t crawl or scream; she could only helplessly thrash as her flesh dissolved into a sickly pulp.
“We won’t let you take daddy away,” Belinda exclaimed.
Jenny lifted her head, desperation flickering in her eyes as she strained to see Belinda through the blood-slicked haze. Weak and trembling, she stretched out her arm in afinal, frantic plea for help. Her hand, once soft and youthful, was now a mangled mess.
Flesh melted away, revealing jagged bones that twisted and bled pus as the acid continued its relentless feast. The bones of her fingers were exposed as they shriveled and bubbled, muscle dissolving into a slick sludge as they began to twist unnaturally. The acid continued to eat away at the remaining flesh, muscle, and bone, transforming her limb into a helpless, grotesque stump.
Jenny’s vision started to blur, and as she gradually lost consciousness, a melody reached her ears. A gentle lullaby as she continued to slowly drift away.
“Pin Pon es un muñeco,
Macabro y pálido.”
Her lashes melted away, and with her eyes covered in a thick white layer, Jenny let out one last troubled breath. Everything Jenny had hoped for had become nothing more than a soon-to-be-forgotten chest of treasures under the sea. Decaying and never to be found.
“Se lava su carita,
Con sangre y ácido.”The lullaby continued in a glum hum.
From inside the garage, Belinda heard her mother calling out as she ran down the stairs; Jenny’s screams musthave woken her. She ran out of the garage, trying not to step in the fleshy pool of Jenny.
“Mom, Jenny fell and got hurt!” Belinda screamed as her mom rushed towards her.
“Where is she?” Camille asked.
“In the garage. She was trying to get something and fell,” Belinda replied.
After witnessing Jenny’s flesh grotesquely pooled on the ground, her gnarly bones gradually melting into a sickly, oozing mess, Camille’s stomach twisted with dread. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she stumbled backward, trembling uncontrollably.
Desperately, she fumbled to dial the police, each second feeling like an eternity. Once the call was made, her hands shook violently, and she urged Belinda to retreat to her room for the rest of the day, hoping to spare her from the unspeakable aftermath.
Sitting in her bed and brushing Pin’s hair, she could hear people downstairs. Her dad knocked on her door and opened it, seemingly unaware that hours had passed.
“Honey, are you okay?” Antonio asked as he sat on the edge of Belinda’s bed.
“Mmhmm,” Belinda gave a subtle smile.
Antonio felt uneasy about Belinda’s response. He got up, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and exited her room.
After ordering takeout for dinner, and despite no one being hungry except for Belinda, she ate in her room while her parents stayed downstairs.
Later in the evening, Camille went upstairs to check on Belinda. After gently opening her daughter’s door, she walked in and sat on her bed. Nothing was said at first. Camille ran her fingers through Belinda’s long black hair and gently tucked it behind her ear.
“She won’t take daddy away now,” Belinda whispered.
Camille’s eyes widened at her daughter’s words, but she couldn’t speak. She kissed her daughter on the cheek, taking the hairbrush from her hand. Trying to place the brush on the nightstand without looking, she missed, dropping on the carpet.
After bending over to pick up the fallen brush, she noticed a piece of red plastic beneath the bed, slightly concealed by the blanket. Camille ran her hand over what sheinitially thought was garbage and scooped it up blindly. On her palm was a red seal, somewhat attached to the cap of the acid container. “Oh my God,” she whispered, stifling a scream.
After pocketing the items, she stood up. Camille looked at her daughter’s peaceful, sleepy smile, wanting to feel more than her own emptiness.
“Our little secret,” Camille whispered as she slowly walked out, closing the door. She never spoke about her findings with anyone.
