**Love Until Death**
Emily stepped out of the shop, adjusting the heavy grocery bag in her arms. She hadn’t bought much, yet the weight made her hand ache. Outside her house, she paused. *No lights on. Jessica’s gone out again.* She shook her head. *Just wait till she gets back… Ever since she got involved with that… Dean, her grades have dropped, she’s skipping school. The teachers complain. And with A-levels coming up, university applications…* She clenched her teeth, trudging up the stairs to the flat.
Inside, Emily dropped the bag onto a chair by the kitchen table. A glance at the stove confirmed her suspicions. *I asked her to peel potatoes or boil pasta. Gone.* She sighed. *What am I supposed to do with her?*
She yanked off her coat, tossed it in the hallway, and stormed back to the kitchen. The fridge door slammed, dishes clattered—all signs of Emily angrily preparing dinner, each sound a silent promise of the scolding Jessica would get the moment she walked in.
But Jessica wasn’t in a hurry. Half past ten, and still no sign of her. Emily paced, muttering under her breath like a mantra:
*Just wait till you come home… I’ll make sure you never forget this. I work myself to the bone for you, and you can’t even boil pasta? I’m exhausted, doing everything alone… Does she think I didn’t want a life? I was her age when I ended up raising a child by myself. Ungrateful… Is she trying to follow in my footsteps? Let her try—she’ll find out what hardship really means.*
Her anger simmered, ready to boil over. She wanted to smash something, anything, to release the fury coiled inside.
When the lock clicked, relief flooded her—Jessica was home. For a second, she forgot her rage. But then she saw her daughter’s guilty face, the giddy spark in her eyes, and the anger surged anew.
*Where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is? What about your homework? Exams are around the corner, and you’re out God-knows-where!* She barely cared if the neighbours heard.
*I did my homework…* Jessica tried to defend herself.
*Quiet! Don’t talk back to me! Have you lost your mind? I raised you, thought you’d get an education, a good job—then we’d have a life. But you’re just repeating my mistakes.*
*I’m not repeating anything. Stop shouting…* Jessica snapped.
Her eyes dimmed, cheeks flushed with defiance.
*Oh, you—* Emily bit back an insult, barely stopping herself.
She looked around for something, *anything*, to channel her anger. Jessica tried to slip past to her room, but Emily snatched a folded umbrella from the side table and swung it at her.
*Mum!* Jessica shrieked, ducking, hands covering her head.
The cry, the cowering posture—Emily’s arm dropped. The umbrella clattered to the floor. Her anger deflated like a burst balloon, shoulders slumping.
*I was out of my mind worrying, not knowing where you were, and you… What’s that on your finger? Where did it come from?* Her voice was dull, exhaustion overtaking her.
She sank onto the hallway stool.
Jessica slowly lowered her hands, staring at the simple gold ring with a tiny white stone.
*Dean gave it to me.* She glanced warily at her mother—the storm had passed.
*You’re still in school. Doesn’t he know?* Emily asked, mesmerised by the ring.
*He does. So what? In two months, I’ll finish my exams and be—*
*An adult? Please. You live under my roof. You respect my rules, at least help around the house. Don’t wait to be told. You think you’re grown, so you can do whatever you want? Stay out all night? Skip school? Get pregnant?* The rage bubbled up again.
She knew she was spiralling, but couldn’t stop.
*Mum, he loves me. And I love him,* Jessica said desperately.
*If he loved you, he’d do what’s best for you, not drag you down. Where did he even come from…* Emily shook her head, a groan escaping her.
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. Nerves frayed, anxiety gnawing—how had her bright, obedient daughter, her pride, ended up like this? Her mind conjured worst-case scenarios until, exhausted, she dialled her only friend.
*What’s wrong?* came the groggy reply, followed by a yawn. *Do you know what time it is?*
*Sorry. I needed to talk. Jessica… she…*
*I warned you, didn’t I? Said you coddled her too much. What’s she done now?*
*Oh, Rachel, she’s seeing this older boy, her grades are slipping, skipping classes. The teachers complain. It’s humiliating.* Another yawn crackled through the phone. *Sorry. Just… tell me what to do.* Emily paused, then rushed on before Rachel could drift off. *He gave her a ring. She’s seventeen, talking about love. He’ll ruin her life. Are you even listening? Fine, I’ll call tomorrow.* She hung up.
Sharing the burden helped, just a little. She finally drifted into uneasy sleep.
Morning brought clarity—she had to act before it was too late. But how?
As she washed up, boiled the kettle, her mind raced—how to reach Jessica, make her see this wasn’t love, just recklessness? She peeked into her daughter’s room. Jessica lay curled up, cheek resting on her palm. Emily’s heart clenched with fear and tenderness. A sigh, then she closed the door, dressed for work.
Leaving, she took her keys from the hook. A thought struck her. She pocketed them, rummaged in Jessica’s coat, grabbed her set too. Then, digging through the junk drawer, she found the spare set from her ex-husband and locked the front door with those.
*There. She’s staying home. I’ll tell her teacher she’s sick. She’ll have time to think.* It felt right. She’d talk to Jessica properly later, prepare the right words.
If only she’d known what would happen.
Jessica called at nine, screaming about being locked in.
*Stay home and think. We’ll talk later. Don’t disturb me at work,* Emily replied coldly.
No more calls came. The day dragged, but no convincing words formed—just anger, blame.
On her way home, a crowd gathered outside the opposite building. She stopped.
A neighbour hobbled past, arthritis stiffening her steps.
*Liz, what’s happening?* Emily nodded toward the commotion.
*Oh, love…* Liz hesitated, pity in her eyes. *Don’t panic. Police and rescue are on their way…*
*Just tell me!* Emily snapped.
Her heart already knew—something terrible, involving Jessica.
The sun dipped behind the rooftops, its glare blinding her to the crowd’s focus.
*Look at the roof. Is that your Jessica?* Liz shielded her eyes.
Emily squinted, finally spotting two silhouettes against the darkening sky. She didn’t wait for confirmation—she shoved through the crowd, head tilting back.
There, clear against the blue, was Jessica. Hand in hand with Dean, they stood on the edge.
*God, I locked her in, took the keys—she couldn’t have climbed out the window…* She didn’t realise she was speaking aloud.
*A van with a crane came earlier. Thought they were painters,* a man beside her said. *Must’ve pulled her out. That your girl?*
People turned, whispering.
*Jessica!* Emily screamed—or thought she did. Only a strangled gasp escaped.
*That’s Dean with her. Dodged the army. Dad’s in prison—killed his mum drunk. Lives with his aunt, no direction…*
*Works delivering pizzas…*
*Sweet girl, always said hello…*
*What’s going to happen?*
*Where’s the police? Useless when you need them…*
*Hear that? Sirens!*
Emily kept her eyes locked on Jessica. Her neck ached, but she feared looking away would break whatever fragile thread held them back. Dean spotted the approaching police.
*Stay back, or we jump!* His voice shook, more fear than threat.
Emily didn’t see the men slipping into the building. Tears blurred her vision, but she kept staring. Then Jessica’s figure wavered—Emily lunged forward, as if she could catch her. The world spun, darkness swallowing her.
When she came to, a stranger’s face loomed above. For a second, she thought it was Dean—she flailed, trying to hit him.
*Easy. Stay down. Ambulance is coming,* the man in the rescue uniform said.
Not Dean.
*Jessica…* she whispered.
*She’s alive. Over thereThe man helped her up, and Emily stumbled toward Jessica, pulling her into a crushing embrace as the wail of sirens faded into the night.
