Page 107 of Dark Ugly Places

That’s when I swear I hear it. The caw of the crow. I look up, and I see the smooth wings and shiny black body, the crow’s darkness so much like my own. I stop, transfixed there, and wonder for a split second. An atom-sized thought passes through me and into oblivion, too small to notice, too microscopic to be considered real, but there passing through me, nonetheless.

And it’s not mine at all. It’s hers. It arrives like a microscopic glitch in the movie reel. So faint, so fast, but there as clear as day.

I hear it now. At last. And the darkness is pleased with me. The truth unfolds like a blanket all around me.

Martha’s voice rings now in my ears, as it did that day.

What if Ben were gone, Nicola, just like your Daddy?

46

Martha

I’ll admit, things might have gotten out of hand.

But what you have to understand is this: the darkness isn’t a place for anyone to live. And I guess I don’t mind saying now that the cat is out of the bag … I’d had enough.

Enough of the waiting.

Enough of the scraps and fragments of life.

Enough biding my time while Nicola lived her life with Ben and Emmy.

And do you know what really irked me? It was the ingratitude Nicola had for her life. For her perfectly imperfect life. Her job, her house, and her doting husband, who—yes, okay—had a little problem with money.

She wasn’t exactly giving up, but she wasn’t thriving either.

The migraines. The pills. The suicidal thoughts. The depression. It was all so boring.

And maybe I’d grown a little tired of her martyrdom.

So, I thought to myself that I’d take something from her. Just a little something. Her sense of safety. Her entitlement to life. I thought I’d mix things up a bit, show her how grateful she should be for her family, her freedom, her life.

She would never thank me. I knew that. Of course. I didn’t do it for thanks.

I had no idea the car coming through that stop sign would be a Rolls-Royce or that the driver would reverse and run from the scene. That Ben would die so violently or that Emmy would get caught up in the clutches of that day.

That was the accident.

I’d only meant to stir things up a bit. Get Nicola to wake up.

And did you, Nicola? Did you?

No. If anything, you went deeper into sleeping through your life. Medicating your way through, claiming migraines and pain and grief and loneliness, blah, blah, blah. Isn’t it all so tedious?

So yeah. Things didn’t exactly pan out as I had hoped. And that’s on me.

Granted, I had Nicola’s best interest in mind. But truth be told, when I felt her slipping away again into despair and depression, it became clear that maybe Nicola didn’t even deserve the life I had given her.

She took everything for granted, including me.

I’ve been a bad Martha, you could say. But I don’t regret anything, including my penchant for doing away with unacceptable men.

Nicola’s father.

Ben.

And of course, there is one more.