She was always feeling sick and suspected her mother was responsible for it. So she plotted against her. She grabbed some books, learned about plants and their names and their effects on the human organs. She distilled, soaked, boiled, bottled and hid her concoction inside what she thought was a safe place.
Her mother turned pale, lost weight and hair, bled through eyes and nose.
Everything went according to plan until one night, mother came stumbling into the kitchen, screaming in pain like a banshee on her knees and saw it. A little bottle of have-been butter candies replaced by a bitter-smelling tisane on the floor behind the stove.
She saw her mother on the kitchen floor reaching for something gagging on her own blood and foam creeping up her nose. She then felt the cold sweat of fear. She found the poison, she thought.