Family Annihilator
Heather wrote in her head as she brushed her teeth. Dearest Lonny, I hope my last letter brought you some peace of mind. Writing it made me so happy. Do the guards allow you to keep mail in your cell? She paused, not wanting to speculate on Lonny’s conditions. Her children yelled from outside the bathroom door, asking about breakfast. Heather spat in the sink. She wiped toothpaste from her mouth and counted silently to five before returning to the demands of Lacy and Ryan. There would be time to finish the letter once she was alone.
#
The paper was from the local boutique Heather passed by on the way to Lacy’s gymnastics class. She wrote the first letter on paper she yanked out of Doug’s printer. Better than Ryan’s construction paper scraps. Going forward there needed to be a certain formality, a clear pleasantness. The new stationery was a pale lavender with flowers on the border. A touch of nature for Lonny. Heather had seen photos of Sterling Correctional Facilities online. Flat, blank, and cold. The only flowers to blossom were pretend.
She enjoyed the emptiness of the house. The kitchen table became her office when no one was eating or doing homework. Heather’s laptop sat at an angle while she wrote what would be her ninth letter to Lonny. Do you feel lonely? I feel lonely for you. I’m sure it’s hard to make friends in prison. Especially as a celebrity. She paused and read through the latest updates in the forum.
Lonnyslady72 posted a trailer for the documentary out next week. Heather congratulated herself on having already seen it. She refreshed Netflix’s YouTube page until the trailer appeared, watching after midnight in the privacy of the bathroom. Comments underneath the post were largely complaints. While Lonny’s daughters were adored in the forum, his wife Kyeli was not. Whenever she was talked about it was a running joke to spell her stupid name in an even stupider way. Kyughlee. Kylieeee, Yelli, Keyeyeliii.
Caffeena: I hate that they are focusing so much on Kyeli and the girls. Isn’t it exploitative to recap the crimes? The trial has already happened. I want Lonny’s POV!
HouseStark: If they don’t interview Lonny, I’m gonna be disappointed. I bet he wants to talk.
Heather commented as ExYooniqueYooGal. The doc’s probably just gonna be a watered down edit of the body cam footage and Kyughlee’s awful social media posts.
She’d watch anyway. They all would. The documentary was a feast to pick down to the bone. Heather wondered if it would show the infamous pregnancy announcement video. Kyeli’s shaky hand recording Lonny’s reaction in their McMansion’s living room, the last of her videos he’d appear in. Lonny’s handsome face shrinking in dismay before quickly feigning happiness for his wife. Did Kyeli know then something was wrong? That she’d ruined their marriage with her presumptuousness? Heather thought Lonny’s upset was unmissable. How could Kyeli keep filming? Was it so hard not to turn her life into a consumable product?
A new post appeared, Chip’s adoption- CONFIRMED. Heather clicked and read with relief. The article was headed by a photo of the Stark family beagle with his new owner, her face blurred to protect her privacy. Apparently, the documentary had brought renewed interest in Chip’s fate, causing her to anonymously admit to taking in the dog. He’s the most spoiled boy! He loves my little girl. I think she reminds him of McKenzye and Merrianne. Heather blinked back a tear. Poor dog. There were rumors that Chip had been put down after the cops removed him from the house. Heather watched leaked body cam footage of the dog barking and nipping as the police collected evidence.
Caffeena: Bless Chip! 😀 I’m so glad Lonny didn’t kill him like Dupont de Ligonnès did to his dogs. Cause that was seriously FUCKED!
Heather almost replied to chastise her. It was bad manners to bring up other crimes here. This was a forum for Lonny Stark, not every notable family annihilator. Heather joined right before a popular commentator got banned for bringing up John List repeatedly.
Lonny Stark was not a John List. Heather had skimmed List’s Wikipedia page after the ban. He was a pathetic little man, disappointed and impotent. Lonny loved his family, especially his girls. He loved McKenzye and Merrianne so much he killed them. Can you imagine loving someone so much you’d kill them?
She glanced at the ornate wall clock Doug picked up from Home Goods. Heather told him it was ugly, yet here it was. Nothing else they owned in the house matched. The clock’s lacquered finish glinted in the afternoon sun. Lacy and Ryan would get off the bus soon. Heather turned off the laptop and collected her papers. She placed the computer into a kitchen drawer with other paper miscellany. Secure, but not secret. As for the letters and stationery, she hid them behind the extra towels in the cupboard under the upstairs bathroom sink. Doug never looked there. Lacy kept her neon pink towels in her room so her brother wouldn’t use them. Ryan only bathed when his mother made him.
#
After dinner, the family did their own activities. Doug had tried to get the four of them to spend more time together during the week. Board games only led to Lacy and Ryan fighting. Lacy always had to win, and Ryan was a sore loser. Doug suggested educational movies, but Heather said not on a school night. Plus, Ryan fussed during things he didn’t like, and there was only oh-so-much of Lacy’s tween sighing Heather could stand.
The compromise was that the whole family could do what they wanted as long as they were in the same space. Heather returned to her kitchen table office and occasionally peered over the peninsula to watch the others in the living room. Doug read a history book about some obscure disaster Heather had never heard of. Ryan played with his Legos on the carpet, making sounds as he clicked the pieces together. Tonight, Lacy practiced the dance section of her gymnastics routine. She kicked her leg in the air, careful to avoid hitting her brother on the head. Lo-fi music played from the speaker over the television. Heather found these evenings to be the best time to catch up on any forum posts she’d missed.
Another woman who had been part of the same multi-level marketing scheme as Kyeli posted a tell all. Heather’s lips thinned. She’d chosen the username ExYooniqueYooGal as a joke, but now there really was an ex-member making herself (it had to be a woman, no man sold second-rate health and beauty products to his friends) known. HellIsYoonique had created a whole slideshow with never before seen videos of sales meetings and conferences. Heather clicked through, rolling her eyes. How could anyone join an MLM with such a ridiculous logo? The last two letters in the yoo were turned into a smiley face.
I attended the same conference that Kyeli did before the murders, said HellIsYoonique. She posted a picture of her ticket held in her hand as proof. Her nails were painted a bright green. I didn’t see or meet her. A bunch of us donated to the funeral costs for her and the girls.
HellIsYoonique explained that the shock of Kyeli, McKenzye, and Merrianne’s deaths caused her disillusionment with the MLM. I thankfully wasn’t in too deep to begin with. Not like Kyeli, Heather thought. Half of her social media posts had something to do with YooniqueYoo.
Heather had Facebook and Twitter accounts she barely used. She and Doug agreed not to post photos of the kids on social media, and Heather commented more on other people’s posts than creating her own.
In another comment, Caffeena uploaded more of Kyeli’s YooniqueYoo pictures and videos where she shilled makeup and shakes.
Kyeli, to the uninformed observer, was just your average midwestern mom. Her dark brown hair was styled with an over-the-forehead pouf. A permanent round tummy from two consecutive pregnancies, since McKenzye and Merrianne were only 13 months apart. Heather had wanted at least three years between her children. Ryan was born two months after Lacy’s fourth birthday.
Heather didn’t hate Kyeli, there were just several things about her that Heather took note of. Besides the multi-level marketing scheme, there was the funny way she posed in photos to hide the fat in her face. How she would make passive aggressive comments toward Lonny in videos. Kyeli’s family made her Facebook and Instagram private after her death, but most of the content had already been saved to other websites.
“Mommy, can I have some juice?” asked Ryan. Heather saw him in the reflection of her laptop screen.
“No juice after dinner!” said Doug from the living room.
“He can have some juice.” Heather turned to her son, “Can you be a big boy and help yourself?”
Ryan grinned, his smile missing two of his teeth. (McKenzye had lost her first tooth right before her death.) A plastic cup taken from a lower cabinet tapped onto the table. The fridge door opened and closed. Heather read a comment from Lonnyslady72 about how Army bases were trying to crack down on MLMs.
“Uh oh.” Heather heard Ryan say. A cold splash to her lap made her jump away from the table.
“Jesus Christ!” said Heather, as orange juice spread over her laptop keyboard.
“What’s going on?” Doug appeared, book in hand, on the other side of the peninsula. Lacy peered around her father, curious.
“My laptop!” Heather immediately picked it up and poured the excess liquid onto the floor.
Ryan’s face scrunched in readiness for tears. “I’m sorry, Mommy!”
Doug got paper towels and started blotting. “This is why you don’t give the kids juice after dinner.”
Heather tried to come up with some retort for her husband. Instead, she frowned and muttered complaints about needing her laptop fixed.
Ryan sobbed into his sister’s leotard. Lacy wrapped her arms around her brother and glared at her parents with a pouty frown.
“You could’ve helped him, Mom.”
#
The laptop was deemed salvageable by the man at the tech store. Anything Heather had worth saving was backed up in the cloud. But she wouldn’t have it back in time to watch the documentary, so she’d have to use her phone. There was the household television. The downside being that Heather would have no privacy. The documentary was inappropriate for Lacy and Ryan, and Doug didn’t understand. Heather had tried to get him to sit through a Lifetime episode about bodies buried in unusual places. He got up halfway, disgusted. The man read books about thousands dying in battles, yet anything more intimate was too much.
Heather could scroll through the forum on her phone, but the hosting site hadn’t worked hard at making the mobile version good. She had to turn off the auto-rotate in order to read some of the longer posts.
Lacy had gymnastics that evening. Ryan showed off his latest Lego creations to Doug as they sat together on the living room floor. Heather read on her phone as she waited for her daughter to come downstairs.
“Lacy, we gotta go in five minutes!” shouted Heather.
Lacy ran down the stairs, a pink leotard in her hand and a backpack hanging from her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
#
Heather climbed up the bleachers to watch the class with the other parents. There was usually a little chit-chat, but most of them brought something to do while their children practiced cartwheels and walking the balance beam. One of the dads was working his way through a difficult Sudoku book. A mom crocheted her fifth hat of the year. Heather usually read, glancing up between pages to check on Lacy.
The kids did their stretches out on the mat. Heather decided to visit the forum before returning to her book. There hadn’t been anything worthwhile since the YooniqueYoo exposé. Lacy waved to her mother, Heather smiled and pointed to the teacher. Lacy needed to pay attention.
Heather refreshed the forum idlily. A new post, DOC OUT EARLY, popped up. She chewed her cheek. Lonnyslady72 wrote, check your Netflix! It’s out NOW!!!! Follow up comments confirmed this. Heather planned to watch the documentary in the bathroom after everyone else had gone to bed. That worked when it came out at midnight, not six pm. She could wait, right? Heather refreshed again, Thoughts on Natasha Interview?
She was already connected to the studio’s mediocre Wi-Fi. The Netflix app was set to go. Headphones on, Heather licked her lips and pressed play on The Stark Family Murders.
#
The first half hour of the documentary was familiar. Social media posts strung together to sentimental music. Body cam footage from the police’s first arrival at the house. Heather approved of body cams for the other reasons, but it was so neat to see the investigation unfold as it actually happened. No awkward reenactments here. How could an F-list actor capture the twist of Lonny’s body as panic set in?
Heather paused the documentary. The kids were practicing ribbon routines. Lively colors danced in the air before the gray industrial walls. Lacy waved hers in a spiral. Now, Heather had reached the part of the film she was looking forward to most. A woman sat down in a confession cam.
“You have to understand,” she said in voiceover as a video played of her and Lonny together in a park. Natasha asked him to smile for the camera. She laughed as he kissed her neck instead. “I thought I knew Lonny.”
The current Natasha was far different from the person in the footage. Gone was her highlighted hair and bright clothes. She wore a gray cardigan, face partially hidden by long straight hair and a pair of dark-framed glasses. Natasha wore little makeup, her pale lips almost disappearing into her skin. The ideal costume for an apologetic mistress.
“I really loved him. I believed I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.” Natasha rubbed the back of her neck. She coughed. “But I never thought he would kill Kyeli and those sweet girls.”
“Do you still love him?” asked the interviewer.
Natasha shook her head. Twin tears rolled down her cheeks. “That love died when the police told me what he did.”
Then she never loved him, Heather decided. She would have stood by Lonny. Visited him in custody. Attended all his hearings. Not cared about society’s disapproval. That was true love. If Doug ever did anything abhorrent, Heather would never abandon him. She saw herself in a courtroom, dressed in dignity, while Doug stood at the defendant’s table, shackles against his orange jumpsuit.
But Doug couldn’t transgress like that. Her husband had a gentle soul. The face of the man Heather imagined distorted away from Doug’s and into a shifting blur of hypotheticals. Still, she had vowed to love no matter what, including a version of Doug that would never exist.
#
There wasn’t enough time to finish the documentary before the end of the class. Heather noted the timestamp, she could watch the last twenty minutes like she had planned to do originally. Lacy skipped away from her friend to where her mother waited.
“How was class?” asked Heather. She took Lacy’s bag to carry it for her.
“Fun! Did you see me twirl my ribbon?”
“I did! You did a great job.”
Lacy looked at her mother with a skeptical eyebrow up.
“You didn’t watch.”
“Yes, I did.”
“What color was it?” asked Lacy.
“Pink,” a safe bet, as it was Lacy’s favorite color. A pink ribbon would’ve matched her leotard.
Lacy huffed and ran towards the studio door. “No Mom, it was purple!”
#
Heather crawled into bed. Doug lifted up his arm so she could rest her head upon his chest. He was reading but stopped to kiss Heather.
“What was Lacy upset about?” he asked.
“Oh, some gymnastics thing, nothing important.”
“Our little Olympian.” Doug put his book on the nightstand.
“She’s ambitious.”
“How goes the job hunt?”
Heather sighed into Doug’s college sweater. “Slow.”
“Matthew’s offer still stands.” Doug’s tone took on a lilt that was almost condescending.
“I don’t want to answer phones at a car dealership.”
“It wouldn’t be forever.”
Heather rolled off her husband. “I’ve already said no!”
#
I watched your documentary today. I know you probably will never see it, but you must have known it was made. I saw lots of old photos. You have a wonderful smile. I hope you get to smile sometimes.
#
Heather’s laptop was working again. She read the forum between applying for jobs. Most of the recent posts were discussions about the documentary. Heather had rewatched it that morning while she cleaned the house. Now she switched from rewriting her cover letter to refreshing the forum.
The newest post was from HouseStark: BREAKING NEWS!!! LONNY IN THE HOSPITAL. A numbness went down from Heather’s throat to her stomach as she clicked on the Associated Press article. She was too tense to read properly, skimming pieces here and there. Convicted murderer Lionel Stark attacked by fellow inmate… Stark was tried and convicted of the 2019 murders of his wife, Kyeli, 33, her unborn child, and his two daughters, McKenzye, 6, and Merrianne, 5… Stark was taken to Sterling Regional MedCenter where he is stated to be in critical condition.
Heather typed a comment one finger at a time. Is this real?
#
Lacy had gymnastics. Heather contemplated asking Doug to take her instead but thought of her daughter’s disappointment last week. Lacy couldn’t see her mother ignoring her during class, playing on her phone of all things. Again. She put an unfinished paperback in her purse to bring along.
Besides, the forum hadn’t updated much in the past few hours. Lonny was still in critical condition. The inmate who attacked him was already serving a life sentence for a robbery gone wrong. A debate had broken out in a comment thread. HouseStark suggested they all say a prayer for Lonny.
Caffeena: Why on earth should we do that?
HouseStark: As good Christians we should pray for everyone.
The two of them went back and forth until Lonnyslady72 said she was asking the mods to lock the thread.
Heather didn’t pray. But she did send up a hopeful thought that Lonny had gotten to read her newest letter.
#
Lacy held Heather’s hand in the parking lot. The girl hummed part of the song that played at the end of practice.
“You did a good job today, Honey,” said Heather. “I saw you picked the pink ribbon this time.”
“Thanks! I’m gonna get gold at the tournament.” Lacy spoke like her win was an impending fact, rather than a goal.
Heather laughed. “I just want you to have a good time this Saturday.”
#
Heather was good. She didn’t peek at her phone while getting Doug and the kids ready for work and school. Lunches were made and dishes got washed. A Thursday like any other. Once more in her precious solitude, Heather sighed as she rested against the closed front door.
Her phone had dinged with an email alert after her alarm went off that morning. A local realtor office was inviting her in to interview for a receptionist position. Not ideal, but better than a car dealership.
She made herself another cup of coffee and settled in at the kitchen table. Once she had a new job, she was telling Doug she wanted an office. Obviously not a whole room, but they didn’t need to use both of the master bedroom’s walk-in closets for clothes. Heather could have a little desk with a comfy chair. She’d get a set of drawers with a lock for her letters to Lonny. A perfect place to write him a get well card.
Heather opened her email to reply to the realtors. But what was one more visit to the forum? She had to know, then she could focus. The website loaded and the top post said LONNY IS DEAD.
Heather’s first hope was that the article was some bullshit from the New York Post, but it was another from the Associated Press. A statement from Lonny’s sister said the family had made the decision to remove him from life support. We ask for privacy during this difficult time.
Lonnyslady72: Damn, I was hoping he would pull through.
HellIsYoonique: Stomped to death. Not a good way to go 🙁
Caffeena: It’s common in prisons. That pedo priest in Boston died the same way.
HouseStark: May he be welcomed into the loving arms of Jesus. Take comfort that he’s with his family.
Caffeena: Girl, that man is in hell. He’s never seeing Kyeli and those babies again.
#
Lacy and Ryan found their mother staring at her laptop when they came home from school. Heather had watched the comments appear and the arguments deepen until posting was locked until further notice. She double checked several news sites, just to be sure. They all said the same thing. Convicted Murderer Lionel Stark, 38, Dies After Prison Fight.
Why on earth was Lonny in the same place as a maniac? Lonny kept his head down and was going to serve his sentence in peace. He’d pleaded guilty so his family’s deaths wouldn’t be turned into a drawn out affair. Stomped! The very thought made Heather’s stomach turn. She could write. She’d send the warden of the Sterling Correctional Facilities a strongly worded letter. Maybe she could get the other members of the forum to join her.
“Mommy?” said Ryan.
“What?” Heather blinked. Her children looked at her, confused. On her screen was the unfinished email from that morning.
#
Heather excused herself from dinner, telling Doug and the kids she had a headache. She sat on the rim of the tub, phone in hand. The forum was still locked.
#
Friday. Heather told Doug she was still feeling under the weather. He was more than happy to get the kids ready for school on his own. At around noon, she hauled herself out of bed and sent a polite email to the realtor’s office accepting their interview offer. She sat on the sofa, wrapping herself up in a downy blue blanket, and watched The Stark Family Murders.
Heather forced herself to pep up by the time the kids got off the bus. She let Ryan snuggle on her lap and show off his Legos and listened to Lacy talk about the other girls competing tomorrow. Heather called Doug before he left work and asked him to pick up a pizza.
#
Heather pretended to read a book in bed while Doug showered. She hid the phone inside and went to the forum. She found a 404 page not found message. Frowning, she refreshed it, but the message remained. What if the forum was gone? No. She would keep trying. Heather rejoined the Wi-Fi, turned her phone on and off again, but the 404 remained.
The shower stopped. She was running out of time. The forum’s hosting site had to have a customer service line. Heather found the number, but their hours of operation were only from 9-5. She would call in the morning.
#
Heather woke at eight. The family needed to be at the gymnasium for the tournament by ten. She was ready to leave by half past. If only Doug and her kids could be as quick. Ryan wandered off from the breakfast table to decide what Legos he wanted to bring along. Lacy begged her mother to redo her bun three times. Doug burned the pancakes. It was nearly nine thirty by the time Heather told her husband she needed to make a phone call.
“Is it for a job?”
“Yes.” The lie was easy.
“Why do they need you to call on a Saturday?”
#
Heather sat on her bed cross-legged, like a girl about to hear a secret at a slumber party. She called the line and listened to the unpleasant stock music as she waited to speak to a representative. At last, her call was answered. Heather explained she was unable to access a forum she was a part of.
“What’s the name?” asked the representative. “I can let you know if it’s undergoing maintenance.”
“It’s just called Lonny Stark Discussion Board, nothing fancy.”
Heather heard the distant typing of keys.
“Okay, it looks like it’s been deleted by the owner.”
“It’s gone for good?”
“I’m afraid so ma’am.”
The owner had to be someone Heather talked to on the forum. Caffeena, Lonnyslady72, or HouseStark. Heather could reach out to her.
“Could you give me her email?”
“I’m sorry but we can’t share private information.”
Heather thanked her and hung up. She curled on her side, arms and legs tight to her body. The numbness of anxiety was replaced by racking sobs. Heather wanted to cry as long as she could. Her only comfort was herself. There was no one left to talk to. Doug was an impossibility. Heather could tell him a friend, someone she loved, had died. But then her husband would want to know who this was and if they should send flowers, questions Heather didn’t want to answer.
How long did it take to stomp someone to death? What did Lonny’s face look like at the end? Heather hoped his family would cremate him.
“Heather?” said Doug. Heather faced away from him. She didn’t hear him walk further into their bedroom. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel well,” she mumbled out. “I’m not going.”
Her husband sighed. “You shouldn’t be this upset about a job.”
“It’s not about the fucking job!”
“Don’t yell at me.”
Rapid footsteps ended at the door. “Hey, we gotta go or I’m gonna be late!” said Lacy. “What’s wrong with Mom?”
“She doesn’t feel well. She’s sorry, but she’s going to have to miss your tournament,” said Doug, making up an apology for his wife.
Lacy groaned and ran away.
Doug went over and squeezed Heather’s shoulder. She didn’t look at him.
“We’ll talk about this when I get home.”
Heather listened in the distance as her family left the house. She pressed her face deeper into a pillow and wept.