She hid the bruises.
With head bowed down, she searched for the things she wanted to buy. Her hands were shivering. But she managed to stop the shiver when she passed money to the cashier.
Walking back home, mixture of feelings and thoughts surrounded her. She almost broke down in the middle of the road. No. She must not broke down now. The son was still at home. She prayed he was still sleeping soundly.
The moment she reached home, she ran into the hall. To her horror, her son woke up, standing beside daddy. He wasn't moving. Neither was daddy.
The 3 years old asked what happened.
She shoved his question and tried to stay calm. She hid the bruises even more. Bending down to her son's eye level, she spoke, "Your daddy is not feeling well, and fainted. Mummy will call ambulance soon. So it is good you go back up to sleep." Then, she brought her son into the room, making sure he slept.
Down to the hall again. She took out the bag she bought. Plastic bags. Huge black plastic bags. With all her might, she covered up his daddy into the bag. One bag from head in. Another bag from leg in. Then, she also threw away the poison pills into the same bag.
With all her might again, she pulled the body out of the hall into the garage. Just before she was trying to put the body into the car, she suddenly got shocked.
Her 3-year-old son stood at the garage door.
"Mummy, why did you put daddy into rubbish bag? Where is the ambulance?"
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