Genre: Thriller

All he wanted was a little peace and quiet in his last few days on this earth.

“Hi I’m Genny” the big, black lady said kindly to the frail, old man in the bed. She offered her hand but he only stared at her with his pale blue eyes, it was rather unnerving. Mr Pascale couldn’t talk. He had had an undetected abscess in his throat for a few weeks and it had caused major damage to his vocal cords. There wasn’t much hope for it to recover.

“I am your night nurse. You just holler when you need anything, I am here for you.” Genny tucked the blankets around his cold feet to make him more comfortable, checked his oxygen, puffed his pillows and turned him so that he wasn’t lying in the same position all the time.

“No bed sores on my watch” she smiled a toothy grin, hoping for a reaction. He just stared at her.

Genny had been recommended by the agency and was their best carer. Mr Pascale’s family had asked for the best and she was damm well going to look after him to the best of her ability.

Sitting down she opened the paper, followed by pale eyes. She chatted away about the news and what was happening in the world. Genny believed that just because you were at the end of your life, you didn’t have to retreat from everything. Surely Mr Pascale would still like to know what the Dollar, Pound exchange rate was and about international disasters. Not to mention the good stories of puppies being rescued and children being given education. She went through it all.

Finally looking up after the full update, Mr Pascale was asleep. She covered him to keep him warm and pulled out her own book. Genny loved erotica! She read a book a week on it. The little bookshop in her street had tons of these and got new ones in all the time. An endless supply of knights in shining armor, excited the hell out of her. And added some color to her otherwise vanilla life. Genny liked to read aloud, it helped her focus and she did so with relish for hours on end. Much to the utter frustration of Mr Pascale.

With Genny’s care, he gained some strength. The pale eyes brightened and his skin gained some color. The family were ecstatic and gave Genny a bonus. They didn’t want to lose her – she really was the best carer money could buy.

She was so chatty. Chat! Chat! Chat! All day long she entertained him with her stories. Asked him questions and tried to read his expressions. He knew everything going on in the world, as per the BBC. Including loads of her own commentary. Mr Pascale knew all about Genny, her love of erotica, her family, her children, her shoe size and all the less than interesting facts as well. The fact that she could not find the right bra and constantly hitched up her ample breasts, while complaining about the bra manufacturers. The fact that her back tooth irritated her, and she continually sucked on it while her mouth shot out an endless stream of noise.

Poor Mr Pascale looked like he was getting better. He was starting to move his limbs, little by little. His strength grew. He spent hours each day flexing, lifting and working against the resistance of his blankets to gain some strength. But his motivation was not what his family thought. He wanted to kill Genny. No, that wasn’t right, he wanted to shut her up. Her constant chatter drove him to the brink of insanity. If he could have a facial expression it would show frustration and black anger. He was motivated to shut her up and it was good for him.

Week after week he got stronger. Mr Pascale was able to sit up for short periods. He constantly exercised his muscles which were slowly getting stronger. Through it all Genny chatted. Not once did she pause to think that her constant chatter was beyond annoying. No, more than that – it was soul destroying. She was convinced it was what was motivating him. And she was right.

3 months and 3 days after she started, he was strong enough. He listened to constant lectures about the news, her family – everything peppered with her own opinion, until he was able to tune out. He pretended to sleep. Not long after Genny also closed her eyes. It was time.

Grunting softly, he moved until he could pull himself up. All the while his ear tuned to the soft snores. Slowly he moved closer, taking his gown’s belt out of the hoops and flexing it. Leaning forward he gently wrapped it around her neck and tightened it. Genny awoke quickly, scared that she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes focused in shock on the grey, silently snarling face in front of her. She couldn’t fathom what was going on until her hands touched the cord.

“What are… what?” but she couldn’t finish. He tightened the belt until nothing more could pass, not a sound, not a breath. Genny threw her considerable weight at Mr Pascale, catching him by surprise. Falling, he knocked his head on the lever to lift his bed and the blood flowed. But he wouldn’t let go. This woman had been driving him insane for 3 months and he was going to end it – if it killed him. Staring into her eyes, the blood slowly dripping from his wound, he managed to whisper, “Shut up you BITCH!” to her utter shock.

Mr Pascale ended up on top of Genny, the belt lucky for him, had wrapped itself around the lever that had hit his skull and so remained tight. The fracture was extensive and caused his muscles to lock up. Which was unfortunate for Genny as this meant that even though he had died before her, he couldn’t let go. She took some time to slowly suffocate.

The horror on the face of the night nurse was overwhelming. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She ran screaming from the room to get help.

Mr Pascale’s expression had changed. It now showed pure happiness.

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About the Author

Writer, Mother, Grandmother and Wife.

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