BUTTONS
by Dipayan Chatterjee
My mother is obsessed with buttons. Wooden buttons. Metal buttons. Plastic buttons. Old buttons. New buttons. Rusted buttons. Broken buttons. Shirt buttons. Pant buttons. Good old fashioned buttons. Since my childhood...everywhere I looked the only thing I could see was buttons.
She had more buttons than I had toys. Sometimes she would even make sock puppets for me using buttons as eyes & nose. She hoped it would make me like buttons. But it didn't. I hated all these buttons.
But realising how much hard work she put in to raise me as a single parent...I tried to put up with her OCD.
But not anymore. I am a grown man now. I have a family to take care of. And especially since she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's...it has become unbearable. It broke my heart to put her into an institute for the elderly...but what other choice did I have?
Now that she has settled there and the doctor's confirmed she is slowly recovering...I have decided to cleanse my house of all these god forsaken buttons.
As I went into her old room, I gathered at least 700 to 800 buttons within the first hour. There were some more buttons scattered across the room. But I gave no importance to them as my eyes got fixated on an old wooden trunk.
How come I have never seen that trunk before? Throughout the last 29 years that I have lived in this house...I have never seen that trunk. How can that be?
The trunk seemed to be locked securedly. But with little effort I managed to open it. Inside it were more buttons...hundreds of them. As I dug through the pile of worn out buttons I discovered an old newspaper resting at the bottom of the trunk.
The newspaper is dated 19th May 19th, 1971. The headline read "Victim 999!"
I felt my pupils dialate as I went on to read the article.
"The police have discovered a body just outside the city limits. The victim is a 21 year old male. The victim was found in the woods adjacent to the highway. The victim appeared to be strangled to death as there was no trace of blood at the crime scene. The police have ruled out the possibility of a robbery as the victim was found with all of his possessions except... a button on his shirt...which was missing."
I felt my heart pounding faster as I kept reading.
"The police have linked the murder to the work of the notorious serial killer known as 'The Button Killer.' Police believe the victim fell prey to the maniac killer as the modus operandi is highly similar and one of the buttons from his shirt was strategically taken out...just like the previous 998 murders supposedly comitted by the infamous killer. FBI profilers have concluded that the killer takes out the buttons as a trophy & adds to its collection. The Button Killer, perhaps the most dangerous serial killer in recent history, is still at large even after committing 999 murders in the last 6 years. The police hope to catch the killer soon even if they dont have any clue or trace of the maniac."
As tears formed up in my eyes...I noticed something hastily scribbled with red ink at the botton of the article. I instantly recognised it as my mother's handwriting. It read "Just 1 more to go..."
by Dipayan Chatterjee
My mother is obsessed with buttons. Wooden buttons. Metal buttons. Plastic buttons. Old buttons. New buttons. Rusted buttons. Broken buttons. Shirt buttons. Pant buttons. Good old fashioned buttons. Since my childhood...everywhere I looked the only thing I could see was buttons.
She had more buttons than I had toys. Sometimes she would even make sock puppets for me using buttons as eyes & nose. She hoped it would make me like buttons. But it didn't. I hated all these buttons.
But realising how much hard work she put in to raise me as a single parent...I tried to put up with her OCD.
But not anymore. I am a grown man now. I have a family to take care of. And especially since she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's...it has become unbearable. It broke my heart to put her into an institute for the elderly...but what other choice did I have?
Now that she has settled there and the doctor's confirmed she is slowly recovering...I have decided to cleanse my house of all these god forsaken buttons.
As I went into her old room, I gathered at least 700 to 800 buttons within the first hour. There were some more buttons scattered across the room. But I gave no importance to them as my eyes got fixated on an old wooden trunk.
How come I have never seen that trunk before? Throughout the last 29 years that I have lived in this house...I have never seen that trunk. How can that be?
The trunk seemed to be locked securedly. But with little effort I managed to open it. Inside it were more buttons...hundreds of them. As I dug through the pile of worn out buttons I discovered an old newspaper resting at the bottom of the trunk.
The newspaper is dated 19th May 19th, 1971. The headline read "Victim 999!"
I felt my pupils dialate as I went on to read the article.
"The police have discovered a body just outside the city limits. The victim is a 21 year old male. The victim was found in the woods adjacent to the highway. The victim appeared to be strangled to death as there was no trace of blood at the crime scene. The police have ruled out the possibility of a robbery as the victim was found with all of his possessions except... a button on his shirt...which was missing."
I felt my heart pounding faster as I kept reading.
"The police have linked the murder to the work of the notorious serial killer known as 'The Button Killer.' Police believe the victim fell prey to the maniac killer as the modus operandi is highly similar and one of the buttons from his shirt was strategically taken out...just like the previous 998 murders supposedly comitted by the infamous killer. FBI profilers have concluded that the killer takes out the buttons as a trophy & adds to its collection. The Button Killer, perhaps the most dangerous serial killer in recent history, is still at large even after committing 999 murders in the last 6 years. The police hope to catch the killer soon even if they dont have any clue or trace of the maniac."
As tears formed up in my eyes...I noticed something hastily scribbled with red ink at the botton of the article. I instantly recognised it as my mother's handwriting. It read "Just 1 more to go..."
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