Once again in reference to the novel We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson I utilized horror. This time in the form of a narrative from the perspective of Constance, the narrator sister, the night her family is murdered.

Fun and Games

I’m not surprised the poison was in the sugar. Merricat was very attentive and knew I wouldn’t use it. Everyone else fell one by one and were now seizing on the floor. I sat still, patiently, waiting for them to die. It was one of Merricat’s games and I wasn’t going to interrupt her play. She always did think of the silliest games. 

Once the seizing stopped I went to rinse the sugar bowl. I wouldn’t leave a single trace. They’d take Merricat away and she only plays fair with me.

I ran boiling water over the sugar bowl and my mind couldn’t help but wonder, why is it they wanted to die? They punished Merricat often, sent to her room where she’d sit all alone, giving her more than enough time to plan. It’s almost funny how big a role they played in their own deaths and that’s why they deserve it. Merricat just wanted to play. No one understands her like I do and that’s why she needs me. As soon as I was done rinsing the bowl I went to the phone and dialed the sheriff. He, a few officers, and an ambulance arrived shortly after. I almost laughed at their rushed state since I knew they were much too late. 

I was expecting all eyes to point at me – which they did- though I was not ready for the look in them. Looks of shock, no it was horror, definitely horror, in their eyes. Horror and disgust. They simply took life too seriously. 

“Constance.” There she was, my silly Merricat. She was on the steps, Jonas in hand, as the police ushered me to the door. “My silly Merricat,” I said and gave her an amused smile. She mimicked my smile, we both stifled a laugh, and let them take me away.