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Miscellaneous Objects
There once lived a girl who loved all of her things. Her parents gave in to all of her wants and desires, and so she collected everything her eyes grew wide upon the site of. Ancient vases and iridescent glassworks from Rome, exotic creatures that had gone nearly extinct. She didn’t appreciate them though, she merely loved to brag to her gal pals, about how rich her father was. However, her father grew tired of the girls antics, always throwing tantrums when she couldn’t satisfy her greedy need to obtain whatever she saw. And she’d never say thank you to him, he couldn’t recall a single time she ever did. Her mother absolutely adored her, to her the girl could do no wrong. One night, an intense storm pounded on through the long hours of darkness. Booms of thunder chased after flashes of lightning, a chaotic yet soothing symphony. The young girl was frightened, she feared the house would be destroyed and she’d lose all of her things. Just upstairs from her bedroom, her father sat on his bed, contemplating. His wife remained asleep, snoring almost as loud as the thunder outside. Thoughts of how to teach his daughter a lesson bloomed in his mind. He was tired of allowing her to walk all over him, spending all of his money while he was left with none to enjoy himself. He was angry. The father stood from the bed, careful not to stir the sleeping monster. He’d walked to the closet, dressing himself in all black, leaving no skin to show. Quietely, he crept down the stairs, in the direction of his daughters room. A rumble of thunder almost made him blow his cover, as he skirted his shoe on the hardwood floor. He stood silently for a moment to recover, before quietely twisting the knob to her door. Her door made no creak, and the way her room walls was set up, he had room to sneak in and not be seen by her where her bed was. Where she was. He snuck a peak over the wall that hid him to see which direction she was facing in. She was facing directly at him. He quickly jerked back, lucky to not bang up against the wall. She had the lights off, probably afraid of an electrical fire, which had hid him from her sight. The father waited for what felt like an eternity, before finally hearing her shift in the bed. He risked another look over the wall, and sure enough she was facing the opposite direction. He slithered further inside, squinting to see in the darkness of the mega monsters cave of treasures and unappreciated ruins.He pulled out the hammer he’d stuck in the waistband of his jeans, and he waited. Lightning streaks spasmed in the sky, and soon after a long grumble of thunder shook the room. The time was now. The engranaged bald father swung his hammer across the room with all of his strength, smashing whatever it hit into smitherines that coated the floor in a sparkle and gold party. He’d never known so much satisfaction in his life, he smashed and smashed and smashed, as the girl covered her head with a pillow, screaming her lungs out. The girl couldn’t see a person, so she believed the storm had broken through the home. Just as she began to lift the pillow off of her head, he tip toe ran the fastest anyone had ever, reaching the safety of the convinently angled wall by the girls bedroom door. He ran up the stairs to his room, slowing when he got to the door to make sure he wouldn’t wake the thing behind the door. He crept in, sliding out of his clothes with inhuman speed, and climbed into the bed. Not even a minute later, screams erupted from downstairs, and angry pounding steps charged up the stairs, shaking the entire house. She burst into her parents bedroom, eyes bloodshot red as snot bubbles hung from her nostrils. Her soaking wet face sent her father into a state of joy he never thought he’d know again since this force of evil had been brought into existence during a drunken night. A cruel wake up call that ended the man’s curse of alcoholism instantly. He fought to hold back a laugh, as the creator of evil shot up from her not beauty sleep. She was up in a flash, holding her daughter in her arms while she attempted to speak with saliva spilling out of her mouth and bubbles of snot clogging her nostrils. She was incomprehensible. She sounded like a pig. The father put on his best concerned face, and said he’d buy everything back for her. The daughter stopped crying, and stared at her father. She hadn’t even gotten to the part about the broken materials yet, she was gargling at the part where she was scared for her life and covering her head. The girl lunged at him, scratching and clawing like an angry koala. She tore his shirt, and split his pants as he fell in a perfect split. She wasn’t finished. The father had been careless enough to leave the clothes he’d slipped out of on the floor, including the hammer from his waistband. The girl armed herself like an African warrior going to battle, and charges at her father again. But he couldn’t fight her off. She swung and swung and swung, red coating her vision, ringing enclosing her earlobes and head. Then, a scream sounded. Was it coming from her? No. It came from her mother, who stood with a horrified expression on her face. She slowly inched further away, towards the door. The girl looked down, down at her hands, at what lay in front of her. Her hands were soaked in very thick wine, and her father lay facing up at her, eyes glued open and unfocused at the ceiling. The next moments were a blur. There were flashing red and blue lights, she was pushed into a car. She couldn’t get the look of her mothers face out of her mind. She’d never seen her so upset with her before. She expected her mother to help her, to hide this with her. But she’d betrayed her, and the girl was livid. And this betrayal was all she thought about. For 40 long years in a cold cell, this consumed her mind. She hated her mother, and wanted nothing more than revenge. And she planned it every day, every night. She detailed the plan so well, she dreamt it every time she went to sleep. The day of her release came before she realized how long it had been, how much had changed. The first stop on her mind was the house she’d left behind, the home where it all began. Consumed by her thoughts of revenge, she crossed the street to the bus station. A smack so quick hit her, she didn’t quite realize what happened. Her entire life flashed before her eyes, only here she saw it from a different perspective. Her fathers. The tantrums she’d thrown, the nights he spent hungry because he’d spent their grocery money on a two horned pony while she ate dinner from an automatic cupcake machine he’d bought her. She hadn’t let him have a cupcake despite how bad he’d begged for one. The memories of her mistreatment and snob vibes came over her intensely as she faced her fate. The bus meant to stop for her had hit her clean off the road, knocking her body into a tree eighty feet away. The bus driver couldn’t help but smirk as she drove away. “Good riddance you little shit,” the driver cackled as the bus rode away from the scene.
The end.
© Yazzythealien