coming soon
My parents have always wanted children but were never able to have any.
One day, they got a call saying there was a new born baby girl at a hospital a few hours away ready for new parents. In September of 1996, my parents got their only child and I got the name Lola Jane.
My dad has always told me that he’d wanted a boy, but since the moment he laid his eyes on me, he’s been wrapped around my finger. When my parents got divorced, I spent a majority of my weekends and summers with him and eventually, he got back into the dating scene.
One afternoon during August, my dad brought home a woman named Charlotte. “Lotti” she told me to call her. They sat me down and informed me that Lotti would soon be my step mother. I was excited. They wanted to have the wedding in March, so I started to help plan the wedding; who would wear what color, what kind of cake would be used, what dress the brides maids would wear, who would be the flower girl, and so fourth.
My dad repeatedly told me to not feel like I was being replaced because no matter what, I was his one and only. I reassured him I didn’t feel that way, and would return to wedding planning.
Everything started falling into place. The wedding was three weeks away, and our house was turning into a wedding shop. My closet was full of dresses and tuxedos, my drawers had been taken over by table decorations, and streamers and strings of faux pearls were hanging from my ceiling. I needed to move quickly.
My dad had his bachelor party on a Friday night, so it was just me and Lotti in the house that night. We did some last minute adjustments and decided to hit the hay.
After a few hours of tossing and turning, I decided to get up and find a midnight snack. I walked into the kitchen to see Lotti thoughtfully skipping on a glass of white wine. “This is it, Lola.” She sighed. It was a sigh of relief. I didn’t reply, just looked at her. My time was running out. I waited until she went back to bed, then I set my plan into motion. I went into the bathroom and covered her favorite lipstick with a thin coat of corn oil, mixed her favorite shampoo with corn oil, knowing her sever allergy. I stayed awake all that night. When I heard her enter the bathroom at her usual time the next morning, my heart jumped out of my chest. I couldn’t wait to hear her screams as she washes her hair or did her makeup.
The shower turned on. My cheeks started to hurt from the grin I had. Three minutes and twelve seconds went by before it happened. A blood curdling scream ripped out of her throat. I felt the floor shake as She fell out of the shower onto the bathroom floor.
I turned on the fear. I ran to the bathroom, shaking the doorknob which of course was locked. I grabbed my cell, dialing my father, who was at work.
I turned on the tears. “Daddy, Daddy!” I sobbed. His confusion was obvious, as well as the worry in his voice. “What’s wrong, Lola? Talk to me, what’s going on?” “D-daddy, it’s Ch-charlotte. Sh-she… she’s hurt. ” I bawled. “Baby girl, I’m on my way. Call the ambulance. ” I hung up and called 911. I cried, telling them she was taking a shower, like she did every morning, but that she started screaming and I heard what I thought was her hitting the floor. I told them I broke the doorknob trying to get in, and I was right. There was lovely Charlotte, laying naked on the floor, draped in the shower curtain, head bleeding from colliding with the floor, and scalp bright red from the allergic reaction.
I kept the tears flowing as the ambulance crew, and my dad arrived.
She was pronounced dead on scene. My daddy was right. I’m his one and only.