Fan Fiction ❯ You Make Me Crazy ❯ Endings Begin ( Chapter 30 )

That very night, Ivo snuck out to gamble in Kakariko Village, but Malon was a step ahead of him.

 

“Where do you think you're going?” Malon asked, tapping her foot impatiently. “Gambling, right?”

 

Ivo nodded and attempted to sidestep to stop Malon from blocking the door, but she wouldn't let him pass.

 

“This…is…the…last…straw! You are not going anywhere! You are a parent; a responsible adult! Act like one! No more gambling our money!”

 

“Step aside, you bitch. I'm going…”

 

“No, you're not. No more drinking! No more gambling! No more going to Kakariko unless it has to do with delivering milk!”

 

“I said, step aside.”

 

“No.”

 

At that moment, Rose walked in. “Mom, I feel sick…”

 

Grinning, Ivo rushed to his drawer and pulled out the dagger he had not unsheathed for about eighteen years. He snatched Rose by the waist and pulled her onto the bed.

 

“IVO!” Malon screeched, terrified of what he was going to do with her daughter.

 

“Either let me go, or our oldest daughter is going to say goodbye…forever.”

 

“MOM!” Rose wailed. “DAD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!”

 

Malon let her eyes wander the room for a possible defense weapon. She spotted an open empty champagne bottle on the floor. Ivo must've been drunk. Nothing new there.

 

Instinctively grabbing it, she flung it at Ivo's head, watching it shatter while blood began to ooze to the floor.

 

Ivo stared open-mouthed into space, eyes wide in pain as he dropped the dagger to the floor. Malon took this opportunity to claim the dagger as her own, and she drove the sharp point of the knife deep into the left side of his chest.

 

“My…heart…” he choked.

 

“You…never…had one.” Malon panted. “You never had one.”

 

Rose burst into tears, traumatized by the sinister grin her mother wore on her face. Had she truly gone crazy? Was she going to kill her, too?

 

“Rose…” she whispered to her daughter.

 

“Mom…how…how could you? You're…a murderer!”

 

“Listen, my child. Your father…was a very evil man. The reason you are here to this day…is because he raped me into having you.”

 

Rose paused, slowly letting her mother's words wash over her. “So I was…an accident.”

 

“Not an accident…it's just…I wasn't ready to have children. Your father forced me to. He took advantage of me…”

 

“But I was a mistake…”

 

“No, Rose, you were not a mistake!”

 

“Then what am I?” she whispered, almost not wanting an answer in fear of what it would be.

 

“You are…my daughter. I love you, Rose.”

 

She nodded, slightly satisfied with the answer, but still empty-hearted. “My boyfriend raped me…into becoming pregnant.”

 

“You…didn't want a child?”

 

Rose shook her head.

 

“Oh, dear…we share so much in common.” Malon smiled sadly, tears in her eyes.

 

“Mom, I don't want to have this baby!”

 

“You may not want it now, but you'll be happy with the results later.”

 

The next day, Malon held a funeral for Ivo. It was short, but it definitely made an impression. Her children were in tears. She couldn't tell them the truth, though. What would they think of her? She didn't want her own children to fear her…

 

“Mommy, was daddy really that sick?” her youngest child, Daisy, asked.

 

“Yes.” was all she could mutter.

 

Later that night, Malon glared at the dagger, caked with dry blood, still in its original position on the floor. She picked it up and held it to her chest. Rose walked in.

 

“I need to ask you something…” she gasped when she saw her mother holding the knife to her chest. “Mom, don't do it!”

 

“Rose…I'm sorry. I cannot live while knowing I killed someone…”

 

“No! I need you! Your other children need you! Please…stop.”

 

Malon slowly lowered the knife. “Oh, Rose. I don't know what I was thinking.”

 

“Just please…don't scare me like that anymore. You deserve to live life as long as anyone else. You will die an old woman. Do you hear me?!”

 

Malon nodded, surprised at how they seemed to have switched the roles of daughter and mother. “You're…you're going to be a great mother, Rose…”

 

Many years later, Malon had aged into an elderly woman, thick red hair now thinned and grayed out and mind slightly senile. Rose and her one son took care of her.

 

“Rose, my child,” Malon said one day, “isn't it funny how I used to take care of you, and now it's the other way around?”

 

“Yes, very ironic, mom.”

 

“I wonder when my day is going to come…”

 

“Stop thinking like that!”

 

“I have to go someday. I'm tired of lying around in bed all day. Being old is no fun. Besides, nothing stays forever, dear.”

 

“Well, your time isn't now, you hear?! Not as long as I'm taking care of you.” Rose stormed out of the room, displeased with the subject. “I'll be back later.”

 

Night came soon enough, and Malon lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She switched her gaze to the picture on the wall. It was a horse. It looked like…Epona. She often stared at this picture when she was bored, and remembered her best friend, who she had gone for years without after she was forced to end her life to stop the pain of the poor steed. If only she could see her again…

 

Humming the tune she and her friend shared to stay bonded together, Malon slowly drifted into a deep “sleep;” one she would never wake up from.