Here’s a clip of another story of mine! If you’d like to see the entire story, just let me know! I’d be more than glad to share it with you. Enjoy!
I scratched my arm, dragging my brittle fingers across it.
When she sat so close, with her face so close to my face, it made me flare up inside. Her poop-colored eyes stared at me, and my matching eyes stared back.
I got teased when I was a child, for having poop colored eyes. I try to forget those taunts and jeers; that was the past, but it’s hard with her here every day, reminding me.
I scrawled loopy writing across a page of the newspaper, noticing the way I dotted and crossed my letters. There was a certain consistency about it. “Always the same old thing,” that seemed to describe my life perfectly.
I felt my eyebrows sink inwards, and the wood of my pencil snapped, freeing the graphite bar inside. Her writing was the same: the same size; the same style. Like myself, she also lived a brutally repetitive life.
I sighed, curling my fingers into a tight ball.
“I’m going out. Would you watch little Tony?” she wanders over to me, bobbing a gurgling baby boy, a smile placed on her face. She has a familiar smile. A smile that tells people that everything is great; this woman has her life on track.
Tony’s face scrunched up, and the sound a siren wailed out of his mouth.
I felt a brick of contempt lodge itself rigidly against my spleen. The pressure gave me a weak feeling and stirred my insides. I wanted to open my mouth and spew my breakfast all over her and her unexpected surprise from within.
Instead I looked up at her with the most placid look I could muster. It was not right for me to indulge in such fantastical thoughts. “I would love to watch Tony for you.”
She laid Tony in the playpen beside me in a bundle. When the door closed I began to hum freely, for I was able to finally be myself.
I peeked into the bundle. He was by far the smallest baby I had ever seen, but who can say small babies don’t cause trouble?
The monster was calling me. After spending the whole day, and the previous night, stuck inside this cluttered apartment, I needed a break. I needed to get away from her more often. Her, with her “holier than thou” attitude.
I lay back in the fluffy mass of pillows and ratty blankets on my bed, thoughts running quickly through my head. The thoughts came, and went. I had several epiphanies during that time, but soon dizziness was cast upon my vulnerable body.
I got a glass of water and slammed it back, only to be replaced by other. The water slid through my insides, landing in a freezing puddle. I could feel every muscle moving around in my body, and I didn’t like that. I wanted to feel the warm embrace of the monster. I wanted to feel the rush that used to come with it.
I felt a warm sensation rise up through my body, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. I wanted to hit something like it were a punching bag and I was a pro-boxer. I just wanted to make the uncomfortable feeling stop.
I caught my reflection in a hanging mirror and tensed. There she is, I thought. Her face was lost in a mass of big brown freckles. Small freckles are what I would consider cute; anything else just manipulates your face and turns you ugly. Big brown freckles can make anyone ugly.
I glared at her. She glared back.
I imagined myself shoving my mouth into her socket, sucking all the disgusting habits and ugly bits out of her. Of course I couldn’t suck all of it out, but I could try.
Over time there would be less and less of her. That thought sent a shiver down my spine. Whether it was a good or bad shiver? I didn’t know.
I could sense a plan beginning to form but I distracted myself from it. I knew if I allowed it to take roots in my brain; if I watered it with TLC, soon it would be very strong indeed.