Bad Medicine

• Rebekah Fleming, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2008

“Lola, hand me that glass of water,” a tired voice called. The woman quickly glanced at the young girl who was fumbling for the glass. “I don’t want to be here all day, Lola,” Mrs. Dawson snapped. ‘I’m getting too old for this,’ she thought to herself.

“Here you go Mrs. Dawson,” Lola spluttered, passing the glass over. “Did you want your cough medicine, now?” Lola sighed heavily; she was growing tired of dealing with this woman, always wanting, never appreciative and to make matters worse, the pay wasn’t covering her board and the flu was starting to catch up with her.

“No. I’m seeing my son Colin.” Mrs. Dawson glanced at Lola and then continued. “I only see my son once a year!” she snapped, pulling herself out of bed.
“Alright, I’ll go prepare the afternoon tea then,” Lola said biting her tongue.
“Yes, yes o.k., just go,” said Mrs. Dawson draping the nightgown over her frail body.
“Yes Mrs. Dawson,” Lola rolled her eyes as she left the room.

“Why the old biddy doesn’t just die?” whispered Lola to herself fumbling around in the cracker jar. ‘Wait, I shouldn’t think thoughts like these, I’m better than…’ Lola froze; her eyes now lay upon a bottle of antifreeze. “I couldn’t, could I?” Lola’s voice was barely even whispering. Before she could stop herself, Lola poured some antifreeze into the cough medicine.

“Mother, I have something to tell you, and it may come as a shock,” said Colin, walking with his frail mother walk down the street.
“What is it?” Mrs. Dawson snapped.
“Well Mother, the thing is that I have decided to settle down…get married. “ Colin became tense.
“What are you on about Colin, no you are being delusional” said Mrs. Dawson, halting. Colin continued walking, unaware that his mother was not walking. Suddenly a loud screech came from behind him; Colin spun around. A reversing car had just hit his mother. “MUM,” yelled Colin, running to his mother.

“Lola, where are you?” A neighbour stood in the hallway.
“Oh hello Mrs. Tinkett,” sniffed Lola sliding into the arm chair by the entrance.
“Mrs. Dawson has been hit by a car,” said Mrs. Tinkett. The news had brought a slight smile to Lola’s face as she tried to hide her joy. “I came over to tell you to go home. My dear, you do not look well, go lay down on the couch. I’ll try and find something for you,” Mrs. Tinkett pointed to the living room.

‘Why doesn’t Rosemary update her medicines?’ Mrs. Tinkett thought to herself. Her eyes rested on the bottle of cough medicine. “I suppose that this will do,” Mrs. Tinkett spoke aloud to herself. “Here we go my dear, just take a sip and you’ll feel better.” Mrs. Tinkett held out the medicine cup. Lola realised what was about to happen.
“No,” breathed Lola, as Mrs. Tinkett poured the cough medicine into the sick girl’s mouth. Lola took her last breath.