Murder?

Murder?


Two month old Johnny lay on his back in his crib. He had just had his milk and was drowsy. He giggled as his crib was rocked and his face tickled. Suddenly, something soft and black covered his face. Weakly flailing his arms and kicking his legs, his muffled cries for help went unheard by his mother washing the dishes in the kitchen.

Cathy finished the dishes and wiped her hands on a towel. Going to check on Johnny, she opened the door and was greeted by four year old Sammy.

“Are you hungry? Just wait, Mommy will make something soon.”

Coming to the crib, she bent down, and picked Johnny up and started to pat his back to help him burp. She was surprised when a large amount of milk came up. He started crying as she wiped away the milk. “Are you OK, cutely? I’m sorry, Mommy patted a little too hard.”

She laid Johnny back in the crib, and followed by Sammy, went into the kitchen to make his lunch. After lunch, Sammy went into the backyard to play.

When he came back an hour later, Cathy and Johnny were both sleeping. He looked at the baby, warm, but helpless in his crib. Soon, Johnny’s face was covered by a black mass. Unable to breathe, he died quietly.

The autopsy found nothing. The diagnosis was sudden infant death syndrome. Some of the staff considered it a tragic case of an inexperienced mother with a first child.

The grieving family put their house up for sale and moved away. The stray black cat they had adopted when they moved in a year ago was no longer welcome in the family and was left behind.

Sammy circled the block crying. He was lonely and hungry.