What Happened to Miss Rose

Hi.  So, here's an older story in poem verse by me.  I can't remember if I mentioned I write in several genres.  If you love it, hate it, anything, feel free to tell me :)

What Happened to Miss Rose?

JD Rhode

I was married, had been for sixteen years

We had a daughter, and she was almost eleven

We would have had a son, too, but he died before birth

It nearly killed us, we had hopes and dreams for him

We had hopes and dreams for our daughter, too, of course

But when she was five, she was in an accident

An accident that stole her sight and most of her speech

The same accident that killed our son

That was another dagger through our hearts

I cared for her night and day

It’s sad how, when you’re a parent, you feel responsible

For every single aspect of your child’s life

Our daughter’s name is Rose

One night it rained particularly hard

My husband had to work late

So I had a drink with dinner before putting Rose to bed

She begged me to let her stay up-

“Just until Dad got home”

But I said no

Why spoil her just because of her disability?

That isn’t how to raise a child

It’s true that she was afraid of storms

But she had to overcome her fear sometime

I read a book and sipped another drink

Until the thoughts in my head made the words on the pages too blurry

I thought about my husband’s call just earlier-

Explaining his delay and asking if Rose was okay

Not outwardly wondering about my wellbeing

I thought about his family, their hateful words-

They think I killed our son

Why would I ever even think about it?

I thought and thought until something startled me

The hail hit the window, and the power went out

And a minute later, Rose screamed,

“No, AAHHH, Mommy!”

I ignored her, however, and went to bed

It was terrible

Friends, neighbors, and family asked,

“What happened to Miss Rose?”

I was ashamed to answer that I didn’t know

My husband didn’t come home that night until well past three

I barely remembered it

I felt like I was hit over the head; I almost passed out that night

When we awoke the next morning, the most terrible thing happened-

Our beautiful Rose was gone

Had we been robbed?

Was I knocked unconscious?

Why would they take away our only baby?

What did she do to anybody?

It’s heartbreaking; she couldn’t even see her killer-

She could barely call for help

The support of the town helped-

They all loved her

But I wouldn’t rest until my baby was found

Police, family, everybody asked questions

Was anything taken?  Broken?

The answer was always no

Nothing in the house was disturbed

But my baby girl didn’t leave on her own-

I know she wouldn’t do that

My husband was distraught, as was I

But then glares turned toward us

Did they think we did something?

Days, weeks went by, but no clues were found

I drank more, it calmed me

And my husband was gone more often

Was he believing his family’s lies against me?

Months passed before…

Something was found

A shovel-

With my finger prints all over it

My life crumbled before my eyes

What could I do?

My husband left me just weeks after Rose…

He couldn’t deal with my drinking

I don’t remember not drinking

I drank when I was a kid

I drank when I met my husband

I drank when we married

I drank when I drove our car into a tree

Killing our unborn son and severely crippling our daughter

I drank when our daughter cried because she could no longer see her favorite movie

Or even the beautiful blue sky

And I drank the night I crept into Rose’s room,

Took a pillow and put it over her face until she didn’t make a sound anymore

She knew it was me somehow

Because as I approached, Rose screamed,

“No, AAHHH, Mommy!”

I carried her to the backyard, and, with the shovel

I dug a hole and put her in

Then I drank when people, who only wanted the best for her, asked,

“What happened to Miss Rose?”

My life is ruined

But now, deep in my soul

 I realize I have nobody to blame but myself