Survival in a desperate situation

Chapter 1

The earth lurched, throwing our family into chaos. My husband, Mark, frantically searched for our savings, tossing drawers and cabinets upside down. Nine-year-old Billy clutched his new puppy, a little yipping thing we’d only had for a few days. As we were about to bolt out the door, Mark pushed me back into our bedroom and locked it.

I pounded on the door, screaming Billy and Mark’s names, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, through the wood, I heard their voices.

“Do you want a new mom?” Mark asked.

Billy’s excited reply sent a chill down my spine. “Yeah!”

“Once she’s…gone, Aunt Claire can be my mom.”

I woke up the day before the earthquake.

1.

“I want my puppy!” Billy’s shriek tore me from sleep. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I was back. Back to the day before the earthquake.

That damn puppy—a birthday gift from Claire Henderson, a client of mine. In my previous life, the puppy had run away, leading to a day of relentless whining and tantrums from Billy. I’d tried to comfort him, suggesting it might be stolen and that I’d buy him another. His response was a punch to my back, hard enough to make me gasp.

“The puppy was a gift from Aunt Claire!” he’d sobbed. “I hate you! I don’t want one from YOU!”

Claire…she’d been subtly maneuvering her way into our lives, showering Billy with attention, cozying up to Mark. For Billy’s sake, I’d turned a blind eye, never confronting them. But I never imagined… I never imagined that when the earthquake hit, Mark would lock me in the bedroom, leaving me to die. And that Billy would be cheering him on. He wanted Claire as his mom. And the collapsing house had crushed me.

Now, here I was, back.

I watched Billy, a whirlwind of toddler rage, and Mark, laughing with Claire by the window, pretending to discuss work. A slow smile spread across my face. You want Claire? You got it.

“I hate you!” Billy yelled. “You only yell at me, you don’t let me have candy, you make me do homework, you’re the worst!”

He’d lost the puppy. Spoiled rotten by Claire, he took his anger out on me, smashing a vase on the table. Mark barely glanced up, continuing his conversation with Claire.

“Damn it, woman,” Billy screamed. “If it weren’t for you, my puppy wouldn’t be gone!”

He punched and kicked at me. I stepped back, watching him with cold eyes, refusing to comfort him. He took advantage of my inaction, sinking his teeth into my arm. Blood welled.

I slapped him.

Finally, Mark spoke. “Annie,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “You’re acting like a child yourself. Why don’t you try to be more like Claire?”

The mention of Claire sent Billy into another fit. He demanded Mark take him to see her.

“Only Aunt Claire is nice to me!” he wailed. “I don’t want you!” He spat on the floor. “Claire deserves me and Dad!” He added a final, brutal blow, “Die, you old hag!”

Mark didn’t react.

Looking at them, I felt a profound sense of emptiness.

The puppy eventually reappeared, emerging from the garden. It whimpered, its tail tucked between its legs, trembling. In my past life, I hadn’t noticed these pre-quake details.

At noon, Mark announced he had a business meeting, claiming he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Billy, sensing Mark was going to see Claire, begged to go along. Mark, after a moment’s hesitation, agreed.

I didn’t say anything, simply nodding my consent. His surprise was evident. In the past, our argument had been explosive, fueled by Claire’s interference. Billy had sided with his father, calling me names. Mark had stormed out, sealing a huge deal with Claire, taking advantage of his position at the company.

To get closer to Mark, Claire showered Billy with toys and treats, taking him to amusement parks. She crafted this image of the perfect wife and mother, winning over both Mark and Billy. Billy even started calling her “Mom,” and she’d simply smile.

The moment they left, I called a handyman. I discreetly worked on the security bars on my bedroom window. This time, I would be ready.

You hate me? Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.

That night, I saw Mark’s Facebook post: a picture of him, Billy, and Claire, looking like the perfect family. Billy held the puppy Claire had given him. Mark and Claire clinked glasses. The caption read: “A little wind can fill a thousand dreams.”

They arrived home late. Billy clutched the candy and toys Claire had given him. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed. In the past, I’d take away his treats, lecturing him about too much sugar. That had become another reason for his resentment.

“Humph, old hag,” he sneered. “Whitey, get her!”

He threw the puppy at me. The dog snarled. Mark just mumbled something about being tired and went to bed.

I looked at Billy calmly. “Honey, you really hate me that much?”

He didn’t hesitate. “You’re not as pretty or as nice as Aunt Claire. You don’t deserve Dad or me. You’re embarrassing!” He added, “I want Aunt Claire to be my mom.”

He stormed off to his room with his puppy.

The tremors started in the dead of night, subtle at first, then intensifying until the world seemed to be spinning.

Mark, just as before, started searching for our valuables. Billy clung to the puppy. But this time, I was calm.

You don’t want me? Fine. I’m leaving.

“Claire…” Mark kept repeating her name in panic.

Before I could react, Billy knocked me to the floor.

“Get out of the way, old hag!” he screamed. “Just die already!”

His eyes were filled with disgust. A fish tank fell, showering me in cold water and my own blood. Even remembering the earthquake, the panic was overwhelming.

Mark and Billy didn’t even look at me. Just like last time, they exchanged a glance. Mark, with a cruel look on his face, grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the bedroom. I struggled and screamed, but when I saw Billy helping him, my heart froze. I stopped fighting.

“Great!” Billy shouted. “Once you’re gone, Aunt Claire can be my mom!”

The puppy barked, as if cheering them on. My own flesh and blood were betraying me. They were going to kill me.

But this time, apart from the sadness, I felt only a chilling calm.

Billy, surprisingly strong, hauled me into the room. He and Mark slammed and locked the door.

“Dad, are we doing the right thing?” Billy whispered.

Mark’s voice was low. “Don’t worry, son. In a disaster like this, some people have to die.”

“You like Aunt Claire, right?”

“She can be your mom now!”

Billy jumped up and down with glee. “Aunt Claire is the best! She takes me everywhere and buys me stuff!”

“Once this old woman is gone, we can live with Aunt Claire!”

My nine-year-old son understood everything.

Listening to them, I fought back tears. I went to the window, and with a slight push, the weakened security bars fell away. I climbed down the ladder I’d set up, disappearing into the night.

The earthquake lasted over half an hour, but it wasn’t severe. No one anticipated the extent of the damage. Because the shaking built gradually, most people escaped unharmed, but half the houses in our upscale development collapsed due to shoddy construction.

I’d been gone only a short while when the house crumbled into dust.

My phone rang; it was my best friend, Sarah. I’d warned her.

“Annie, how did you know?” Sarah cried. “You’re a genius! Are you okay?”

I chuckled darkly. “I’m fine. But those two… they’re about to have some serious problems.”

“Wife!” Mark’s screams tore through the night. He was on his knees in front of the rubble, frantically digging, blood staining his hands. Because the earthquake built in intensity, most people had time to escape.

“My Annie…she’s still in there,” he sobbed. “It’s my fault! I wish it were me!”

People rushed to comfort him. He was a picture of grief, his hands bleeding. Others joined in the search. But they found no body, only some clothing.

Mark held up my clothes, wailing.

Behind the crowd, Billy, clutching his puppy, smirked.

Soon, Claire arrived, slightly disheveled but unharmed. Billy ran to her, calling her “Mom.” She smiled, petting his head and giving him candy.

Mark held a memorial service for me at the cemetery we’d bought, intending for our family to be buried there together.

My friends, colleagues, and even some acquaintances attended. Mark knelt before my grave, sobbing hysterically, banging his head against the tombstone.

Billy told everyone I’d sacrificed my life to save his. To avoid upsetting them further, no one pressed for details.

After the service, Mark, Billy, and Claire were left alone. Mark used some excuse to send Billy away in the car.

Alone with Claire, Mark tore off his clothes and fell on her like a starved man. They were making love right there, at my grave. Their passion was obscene, brutal.

Billy hadn’t gone to the car. He watched them, his expression unreadable.

I saw it all.