14 views
Heckle Me, Heckle Me Not Part 2
I just raised a brow. My parents had no windows in their room. Strutting slowly, as if I was bored, I entered the bathroom. Her head looked like a cartoon, waving around wildly as it was. When she saw me her hands trembled, but she held put the knife. I raised a brow.
"You're holding that wrong, y'know." I said in a monotone voice. Her face darkened, then she thrusted it at my face. I stepped to the side. She tried again. And again. Swinging it in an arc, she brought it over my head, aiming for my face once more. I squatted at the last moment and, looking exasperated, swept her feet put from under her. Not bothering to grab the knife, I stepped over her with pursed lips.
"What'cha doin', sweetie, trying to cut my head off?" I laughed and stomped on her left forearm as she tried to bring the knife up again. She whimpered in terror (and probably pain, I maybe broke her arm a little bit) and dropped the knife, looking at me with pleading in her eyes. I suspected she was too scared to talk. I mean, the scariest thing she's probably ever done before this was ace a test. She spoke, though.
"P-please, I didn't mean any harm! Just, just please let me go!" She squealed and writhed under me. I cocked an eyebrow again.
"Uhuh. What does the bit of red on my walls and floors mean to you, hm? Well I'll tell you what it means to me. Hours and hours of scrubbing and bleaching to get your damn mess off. Do you know how many levels I could get past in Mario in that time? I mean, I don't, but it would certainly be a lot. I'm a pro at it, y'know. But seriously, if you didn't mean any real harm I'm going to watch you clean up your mess, you hear me, love?" I stared hard into her amber eyes and when she didn't move, I stomped down on her arm again. Gasping and crying, she nodded, and a few small sobs escaped her lips when I hauled her up by the forearm. I brought her back into the hall and, pointing at the mess, I said:
"I'm going downstairs to get your cleaning stuff. You move, they won't find your body." She whimpered and frantically nodded. I descended once more and strode casually into the kitchen, grabbing the bleach and vinegar out from under the sink and the fiberglass towel off the counter. Once she had her supplies I sat cross-legged on the floor with my DS, and looked up every so often to see her scrubbing and sniffling. Every time she used her left arm she would moan and tears would flow down her face, and I eventually grew tired of it.
"Oi. Quit that shit and clean. Unless you want another broken bone to sob over..?" I threatened. She shook her head faster than I had ever seen before and silent tears would flowed down her face. Rolling my eyes, I got back to my game. About a quarter past eight, I looked over her work again. Unsurprisingly, the girl was a horrid cleaner, but it would do. These types of things happen quite often, so all mum and dad expect me to do is clean them up. No biggie. I set my face with a look of disdain and she recoiled.
"Needs work, but you'll get there. Put those down." She did as she was told and looked back up at me. I whistled and Millet came bounding upstairs. Her eyes widened and her mouth made an 'o!'of surprise and fear. When will this girl calm down?
"H-how is he-"
"Derdruid."
"W-what?"
"Derdruid. Immortal beings. They accompany elite families of Alesia."
She kept silent. Which was good for me, I don't like to talk much.
I grabbed her arm and dragged her down the stairs whilst she made small cries of pain. Before we got to the door I turned around to look at her. She was a blubbering mess: red face, runny nose, puffy eyes and all. I almost took pity on her. Almost.
"You realise how much danger you are in right now, love?" I asked. She nodded fiercely, wide eyes going even wider in earnest. "Then you know what I'll do to you if you tell." She nodded again and I clapped her shoulder. "Good girl."
Shoving her out the door and onto the front porch, I sighed. Another boring day at the house. It was dark, so I walked to the kitchen for probably the fourth time that day and grabbed a piece of bread. Nothing else. Just a slice of bread. Oh, and a glass full of vinegar (just kidding, I'm not crazy). I grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on, ready for a boring night, when something caught my eye. Something unusual.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved
"You're holding that wrong, y'know." I said in a monotone voice. Her face darkened, then she thrusted it at my face. I stepped to the side. She tried again. And again. Swinging it in an arc, she brought it over my head, aiming for my face once more. I squatted at the last moment and, looking exasperated, swept her feet put from under her. Not bothering to grab the knife, I stepped over her with pursed lips.
"What'cha doin', sweetie, trying to cut my head off?" I laughed and stomped on her left forearm as she tried to bring the knife up again. She whimpered in terror (and probably pain, I maybe broke her arm a little bit) and dropped the knife, looking at me with pleading in her eyes. I suspected she was too scared to talk. I mean, the scariest thing she's probably ever done before this was ace a test. She spoke, though.
"P-please, I didn't mean any harm! Just, just please let me go!" She squealed and writhed under me. I cocked an eyebrow again.
"Uhuh. What does the bit of red on my walls and floors mean to you, hm? Well I'll tell you what it means to me. Hours and hours of scrubbing and bleaching to get your damn mess off. Do you know how many levels I could get past in Mario in that time? I mean, I don't, but it would certainly be a lot. I'm a pro at it, y'know. But seriously, if you didn't mean any real harm I'm going to watch you clean up your mess, you hear me, love?" I stared hard into her amber eyes and when she didn't move, I stomped down on her arm again. Gasping and crying, she nodded, and a few small sobs escaped her lips when I hauled her up by the forearm. I brought her back into the hall and, pointing at the mess, I said:
"I'm going downstairs to get your cleaning stuff. You move, they won't find your body." She whimpered and frantically nodded. I descended once more and strode casually into the kitchen, grabbing the bleach and vinegar out from under the sink and the fiberglass towel off the counter. Once she had her supplies I sat cross-legged on the floor with my DS, and looked up every so often to see her scrubbing and sniffling. Every time she used her left arm she would moan and tears would flow down her face, and I eventually grew tired of it.
"Oi. Quit that shit and clean. Unless you want another broken bone to sob over..?" I threatened. She shook her head faster than I had ever seen before and silent tears would flowed down her face. Rolling my eyes, I got back to my game. About a quarter past eight, I looked over her work again. Unsurprisingly, the girl was a horrid cleaner, but it would do. These types of things happen quite often, so all mum and dad expect me to do is clean them up. No biggie. I set my face with a look of disdain and she recoiled.
"Needs work, but you'll get there. Put those down." She did as she was told and looked back up at me. I whistled and Millet came bounding upstairs. Her eyes widened and her mouth made an 'o!'of surprise and fear. When will this girl calm down?
"H-how is he-"
"Derdruid."
"W-what?"
"Derdruid. Immortal beings. They accompany elite families of Alesia."
She kept silent. Which was good for me, I don't like to talk much.
I grabbed her arm and dragged her down the stairs whilst she made small cries of pain. Before we got to the door I turned around to look at her. She was a blubbering mess: red face, runny nose, puffy eyes and all. I almost took pity on her. Almost.
"You realise how much danger you are in right now, love?" I asked. She nodded fiercely, wide eyes going even wider in earnest. "Then you know what I'll do to you if you tell." She nodded again and I clapped her shoulder. "Good girl."
Shoving her out the door and onto the front porch, I sighed. Another boring day at the house. It was dark, so I walked to the kitchen for probably the fourth time that day and grabbed a piece of bread. Nothing else. Just a slice of bread. Oh, and a glass full of vinegar (just kidding, I'm not crazy). I grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on, ready for a boring night, when something caught my eye. Something unusual.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved
