Her Son:

He hides, crouched

Caution running through his brain

He hears the scream of his name

As he springs

He holds only a knife

His tormentor backs

Away, frightened

The knife rises

Then plunges into

His tormentor's heart

The tormentor wails

And crashes to the floor

Her corpse stares up

Glazedly, lifelessly

His tormentor dead

His mother murdered by her