No One Was Watching

You stand there playing on your phone, your child playing chubby bunny of all games, your child is now choking, you don't even look up. What kind of mother are you? Your child is dying, and you do not care. You're lucky other parents are rescuing your child. My employee is waving over to the other children, trying to distract them. But you still do not look up. Well done, you have found yourself in a deadly situation.

You're leaving, you cross the road with your daughter tapping your leg, and you still haven't looked up. I follow you, walking all the way to your house, and finally, you put your phone away and unlock the front door. Your daughter is still tapping you, and still, you don't do anything. I glance in the door; there are no other children or anyone else in the pictures. You have gone upstairs. I look through the window and see a note: "Take Lili to father's tonight so tomorrow you will be all alone."

My car engine off, your door shuts but no lock, the muted cardigan over my white undershirt, specks of blood on the sleeves, vintage trousers, a pocket watch hangs out the pocket, classic leather shoes and a black wig, my face a red smile with tear-stained mascara, nothing remotely resembling my company.

I step out of the car, getting closer and closer to your door. I turn the handle and step in. I head to the living room where I come face to face with you. You don't see me, still on your phone. I take out the packet of marshmallows and knock your phone to the floor. You open your mouth to scream. In go 10 large fluffy marshmallows; they are stuck. Three more go in. You try to get them out. I add two more, then watch. You grab my hands so I don't let go, and I watch as the colour drains.Now you're lying on the couch lifeless. I place the marshmallows in one hand and put the other one in. I drop a marble into the bag.

I take a step back.

Now I stand watching you, slapping your child's hand for wanting cake. The girl can't be more than a size 1-2. I hear you yell at her, "You're on a diet, Mary. You'll never be pretty with cake." The poor girl starts to cry. I start walking over when my phone rings. I answer as you manage to get away. "Sir, you have a meeting in your office in half an hour." I will be back to save you, Mary.

I walk into my office; a girl stands there holding a clipboard. She is looking at my marble collection. "Pretty nice collection, Mr. Martin."

"Please call me Alfie."

"Very well, Alfie."

You turn your notepad.

"You have just donated more than 1 million to children's orphanages, is that right?"

"Well, it was a bit more, but all that matters is that those children have a better quality of life. That is all that matters."

"That is very kind of you, Alfie."

"Well, children deserve the best life they can get. That is why I started this company."

You nod, readjusting yourself.

"I want to ask about the marbles."

"Of course."

"How do you feel knowing the Marble Of Fate uses the same marbles as their calling card?"

You can sense my heart beating; you see my hands sweat.

"I mean, I have some others that I give to the children at every party. Does that make all of them the Marble Of Fate?"

"I didn't ask that."

You know, poor Juliet, you are going to have to go.