Sorry for not updating for so long!!!!

ALSO I EDITED THIS I WROTE 'JAMES' INSTEAD OF JIM RIP ME
★

MARY MCCARTNEY'S eyes flickered back and forth, her lips chapped from the cold and from biting them harshly most of the time. Her jittery hands held the beer bottle, knuckles turning white when a succesion of hard knocks cascaded on the door.

"He's here," She cooed, going over to the door like a child seeing her father for the first time in years. "Jim! Jim!"

While his mother was at the door, Paul was currently scrubbing his hands. Tears were pooling in his doe-brown eyes, sniffling escaping his mouth as his chubby hands turned scarlet. His mummy said he did a good job, and whatever his mummy said was law but flashes of the woman appeared in his head.

The bathroom morphed around him and the once-pristine toilet was filled with maroon that dripped down the tiles. Paul whimpered, pressing himself against the wall.

She was dirty I did good she was dirty I did good—

"Paul!" Mary screamed. "Let me go! Let me go you fucking bastard! Let go! Paul!"

"You fucking bitch," Jim grunted, his hands practically steel compared to her twig-like wrists. "You killed her. You killed Lucy, you killed her you fucking bitch I wish I never met you. I'm going to—"

"What?" She laughed, gaunt face growing macabre as her teeth shone. "You're going to kill me? You're going to kill your wife? Finally gonna snap, Jim dear?"

The man's eyes went to the boy hiding behind the staircase. Mary followed his gaze, suddenly growing feral.

"Unlike you, I actually care for him." She wretched away from his grasp. "Isn't that right, Paulie? You love mummy, don't you?"

Jim's hands curled in his sides. "You sick bitch—"

"Not in front of him!" She screamed, clutching Paul's head in her shaking hands. She gave his forehead a kiss, running her fingers through his disheveled hair. "Do you want the bad man gone, Paulie? Do you want him to dissapeare like the whore did?"

"She wasn't a whore!"

"You slept with her!" She thrusted her finger in the air like a dagger. "You slept with her, you cheated on me you bastard! It's all on you, not me!"

"Paul," He coaxed. "Paul, come here, son."

The boy trembled, opening his mouth but his mother beat him to it.

"He doesn't want to." She pulled Paul closer, clutching him against her frail body. "Right Paulie, tell the bad man you don't want."

"I-I don't wanna go." He said shakily. "Want– Want my m-mummy."

"Paul," Jim said softly. "I'm your dad. Come with me, son, it's okay."

The boy fervently shook his head. His father pressed his lips in a hard, straight line.

"Alright," He uttered. "But mark my words, Mary, you're going to hell for what you did."

"Oh, darling." She smiled. "It's too late for that."

★

"Mummy," Paul wailed. "Mummy, I'm sorry. He's mad because of me, I killed her I killed her—"

"Shhh," Mary pressed butterfly kisses on her son's tear-stained face. "You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Nothing wrong. You're an angel and angels do nothing wrong." She wiped his chubby cheeks clean. "Angels are perfect, absolutely perfect. My angel, my Paulie."

"M'not an angel," He sniffed. "I'm bad mummy. I killed someone—"

"Hush." She snapped, immediately softening when Paul flinched. "You killed someone bad, hun. Remember when you and I killed a rat once?" The boy in her arms nodded. "He was stealing our food. That was bad, right?"

Paul looked at her with wide-eyes. "Uh-huh."

"But because we killed the rat, all the bad is gone. It's like killing the whore, angel, now the bad is gone."

"But papa's angry now." Paul whispered, shaking. "Is he bad?"

"Yes."

"What... W-What do we do?"

Mary smiled. "Simple."

"We kill him."