My Paranoid Fantasy by MK

[zeldas_lullaby]

This is a work of fiction that I wrote today.

My Paranoid Fantasy

When my mom told me, “Peggy, your cousin’s daughter is in the hospital again with a fever of 105,” that was when I knew. Babies’ fevers should run that high, and 105 is dangerously high. Horrors of brain damage raced through my own fevered mind, which was feverish in another way entirely.

I had to do something.

I’d been in contact with my cousin, Randall, via email for several years. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but much of what he wrote seemed “off,” somehow.

Peggy, we’re in the hospital again. All five of us have the flu. We were going to be sent home, but Tracy showed signs of an impending heart attack, so she was admitted for testing. The tests came back normal, except for one of her levels, which was slightly elevated.

Or, this one:

Peggy, can you send some photos of your retro Care Bears collection? It might cheer up Tracy. She’s stuck in the hospital yet again, and they don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s going to have her gall bladder removed, even though her blood work indicates that it’s functioning normally.

Or, this one:

Peggy, my baby girl has been to the hospital so many times that I’m afraid they’ll suspect child abuse. This time, she had a bump on her head after staying with Tracy’s mom. Tracy immediately freaked when she saw it and feared that her mom had dropped the baby.

Or, if we go further back in time, this one:

You remember Tracy, the woman I met in my blood pathogens class? She’s pregnant. I thought she was on the pill, due to her latex allergy’s preventing us from using condoms. OMG. I’m going to be a father.

Anyway, after my mom’s latest announcement, and despite my awareness that my mom loves to create drama, I couldn’t ignore the words that sprang to life inside my head, floating almost imperceptibly behind my fluttering eyelids:

Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy.

My mistake, though, my fatal mistake, happened in that moment, when I was overcome with panic because the puzzle pieces had finally formed a coherent image. Instead of keeping my cards close to my chest, I freaked. I blurted out my suspicions.

“Oh, no, I don’t think that’s it,” my mom assured me. “Babies always get high fevers. Besides, no one enjoys being in the hospital. I think you’re out in left field on this.”

“OK,” I said, shifting into agreeable mode. I didn’t have any other option, really.

That did little to quell my mom’s panic. “You’re not going to cause problems over this, are you? I mean, it’s really none of our business.”

“Of course not,” I assured her, with the smoothness of someone who’s had to lie for years. “I don’t really believe it anyway. You’re right, of course. No one would make their own baby sick on purpose.” No way was I going to sell my soul to the devil by agreeing that it was none of our business, though.

Alone in my room that evening, I weighed my options. I considered reporting Tracy to Child Protective Services, and I probably would have, but one thing stopped me: we were planning a road trip to visit my grandmother that weekend, and Tracy would be there. Maybe I could get more information—you know, watch her without her knowing I was watching her. People had done that to me my whole life.

The two-hour drive on Saturday was a quiet one. My mom focused on the road, and I flipped through a design magazine.

When we emerged from my mom’s rather extravagant Cadillac, we stretched our legs and took in the lovely view of the country, something that never grew old. The cow pasture, the corn field, the silo, the old shop where my late grandpa was a machinist… all of it was so soothing in its sameness, unchanging over the entire course of my life.
My grandma came out to hug us, and I was happy to see her.

I was also happy to see Randall. He had always been my favorite cousin. We curled up on the floor in the parlor so that his toddler daughter could play with her barnyard toys, the same ones he and I had played with when we were young. She gurgled and cooed on the soft carpeting. Tracy hovered nearby, and I made polite conversation with her. After a while, she excused herself to use the bathroom.

I told Randall that I needed something from my coat pocket, and I discreetly entered the bedroom where everyone had dumped their stuff. I immediately recognized the large carryall of a new mother, and I rifled through it as expertly as I could.

Needles. Syringes. Liquid vials.

I tried to get a closer look, but then I heard voices. Flustered, I dropped something as my aunt and uncle came in.

“Hey, honey,” they greeted me, crossing the room to hug me.

“Hi!” Ever calm under pressure, I hugged them back and acted completely unaffected by whatever was at our feet—a needle, I think it was, but it was capped, and therefore hopefully harmless on the floor.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thanks. How are you?”

This particular set of relatives was not Randall’s parents, but rather my grandmother’s stepdaughter and stepson-in-law. I had reason to believe that they only attended family gatherings because they wanted to lay claim to a large portion of my granny’s inheritance, but that story is for another time.

As I followed them from the bedroom, I kicked the needle—or whatever it was—underneath the bed. No one was the wiser.

Over dinner, as we all sat around my grandma’s large dining table, a whispered argument broke out between Randall and Tracy. I carried on a conversation with my aforementioned aunt and uncle, while discreetly following the hushed argument to my left. Tracy was rooting through her small clutch, and Randall was trying to silence her; something along the lines of, “Don’t worry about it now. It’s not a big deal.”

Well, apparently it was a big deal to Tracy.

After dinner, dessert was served: chocolate cake and my grandmother’s famous pineapple punch. You know how in horror stories, someone’s always yelling, “Don’t drink the punch!”? Well, they mean it. All the same, the punch was delicious, and I had two glasses of it.

A half hour or so later, after we’d relocated to the parlor, everyone became mysteriously drowsy. Tracy was nowhere in sight. Shrewd as I am, I stupidly thought at first that everyone was tired and needed a rest. Then, when I was mid-conversation with Randall and he said he needed to take a quick nap, it hit me—everyone was poisoned.

“Randall!” I hissed. “Stay awake. Something isn’t right here.” My eyes scanned the room. My aunt and uncle were drifting off, and so was my mom.

“I know,” he agreed drowsily. “But I just need a little nap.” He leaned toward the sofa cushions, but I grabbed him and pulled him toward me instead.

“Randall, where’s Tracy, and what did she put in the punch?”

“You think she put something in the punch?” As I watched, awareness dawned on Randall’s almost unconscious face. “It was Seroquel, Peggy. She probably put Seroquel in the punch.” My eyes glimmered at this news.

“But where is she?” I asked, desperate.

But I got no answer. Randall keeled over and fell asleep.

Then I heard footsteps coming up from the basement rec area. I froze. Did everyone drink the punch? Think, think, think.

I curled up on my side next to Randall and rested my head in the crook of my arm. As I watched through narrowed eyelids, Tracy entered the room, took in everyone’s asleep state, and turned the corner into the bedroom. I jumped up and followed behind, stealthy. As she rooted around through her carryall in the corner, I dropped to the floor on the opposite side of the bed and unearthed the vial that I’d kicked underneath the bed earlier.

How to work this thing?? Oh God, help me. I’m not a doctor or a nurse!

Tracy turned and gasped at my presence. I sprung up and held the syringe toward her as a weapon. “Stay back,” I warned.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she demanded to know.

She circled around the bed, closing me in between the bed stand and the wall.

“I’m schizophrenic,” I admitted. “I have to take large quantities of Seroquel every night just to fall asleep. You didn’t put nearly enough of it in the punch to affect me.”

Tracy tried to hide it, but I could tell she was disturbed by this turn of events. She lunged for me, but I was ready for her, and so was the syringe.

“No!” she yelled, clutching her forearm. “You don’t know what you just did. You’re crazy. How could you do that? I was trying to help everyone.”

Only now, I’m the one who’s trapped in this mental institution. “She thinks she was saving everyone,” they whisper about me. “She thinks she was a hero.” And I was found unfit to represent myself at trial.

But I know the truth. Tracy died at my hands, but it was self-defense.

Or was it?

[slsjcdcpd2012]

Awesome story. I would like of read more if more was written.

[zeldas_lullaby]

Thank you! And welcome to the forum!! I'm glad you stopped by!

[merry_all_the_way]

I really enjoyed the surprise schizophrenic ending, it left me wondering about everything I had read. It's great when you're reading and then realize the writer who you're supposed to be able to trust is in fact untrustworthy.

There are a couple of grammatical things that caught my eye while reading ("babies' fevers should"-> shouldn't, odd comma splice in "business, though"), but was well polished otherwise.

The main confusion was over the emails. I was not sure who was supposed to be in the hospital, if we were talking about adults or babies, and some of the medical references were somewhat implausible.

Overall, I liked it and would love to see more of your work. I see in your byline you have a book out, how do I find it?

[zeldas_lullaby]

Thank you, Merry! My book is on Amazon! (You can click the link you saw, and then scroll to the bottom of the review, and click the Amazon link there!) Good catch with the mistakes I made. I wrote this kinda fast and didn't put any effort into proofing it (obviously!). I'm glad you liked the surprise ending! Welcome to the forum; my name's Meg.

Your feedback will be greatly useful if I ever decide to clean this story up!!

[StoneGargoyle]

Not normally my cup of tea, but it's pretty interesting. Needs refinement, definitely.

The fact that you wrote this in a day is impressive though. My method of writing is utterly turtlesque in its slowness. (is that even a word?) As a completed story, I can't say it's that impressive, but as a first draft, I have to say it's quite an achievement. At least from my point of view.

That's my two cents anyway

[zeldas_lullaby]

Thank you! You're right. I just free-wrote it and threw it out there.

You know, if turtlesque isn't a word, it should be.

You should hang out on the writer's forum; there's probably a thread for writing faster. However, as I recall well from childhood, "slow and steady wins the race!" (Didn't that fable involve a turtle?)

Welcome to the forum! BTW, whenever I write a short story, it winds up being dark. But my books are much more wholesome and bright. At least, this is what I've been told.

[StoneGargoyle]

Thank you! You're right. I just free-wrote it and threw it out there.

You know, if turtlesque isn't a word, it should be.

You should hang out on the writer's forum; there's probably a thread for writing faster. However, as I recall well from childhood, "slow and steady wins the race!" (Didn't that fable involve a turtle?)

Welcome to the forum! BTW, whenever I write a short story, it winds up being dark. But my books are much more wholesome and bright. At least, this is what I've been told.

Figured you did. Well done! Should be quite a read once you polish it up.

As for writing faster, I'm honestly not bothered by my pace, though if I end up being more of a commercial writer I'll certainly have to step it up a bit.

Also, thanks for the warm welcome! This forum's just what I need to discuss writing and snag some review copies!

[zeldas_lullaby]

You're welcome!! Jump right in; you'll have fun here! There's always something crazy going on! 909090909090909090909090oooooooooooo (Believe it or not, that was actually Mr. Kitten saying hello!)

[TarinaJ]

Zelda, that was kind of freaky! Good story - it highlights how every situation is usually about perspective. I think if you would have left it at "But I know the truth", it would have been a much more impactful ending. I'm still super impressed you just whipped that in no time at all!

[zeldas_lullaby]

Thanks a lot! That's a great point about perspective.

[Applepie]

Continue!!! This was really good! I would love to read more!