Sharon Amos

by Chelsea Blundon

Sharon carved up her children
One by one
Christa, Liane and Martin

Martin was first
The youngest one
And softest when she held him

She slit his throat as ordered.

She rolled him out
Onto the porch
For everyone to see

While her ballerina
And jelly bean
Harmonized their screams

Christa was next, her little girl.

Christa was so small
Her face was pale
Dead weight in her mother’s hands

Sharon told her daughter,
Screaming at her,
“I’m going as fast as I can”

She put Christa next to Martin.

Liane was last
She made no fuss
The knife slid in without much force

She spilled her guts
And was set beside
Her siblings on the porch

They were all smiling at her.

Sharon turned the knife
Unto herself
Made sure her cuts were deep

She cut up her chin
And down her cheeks
And placed her head down by her feet

Four little faces in a row.

Now they were all laid out
On the porch
Only one was missing

But Dad always carved
His pumpkin himself
This was their tradition

At least that’s the way it would’ve been
If Sharon had brought the kids home for Halloween.

Originally posted on July 25th, 2013.

Last modified on December 12th, 2013.
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