I killed Mommy.
My mommy and daddy met at the park. I know, I know, sounds cliché and lame. It wasn't though they truly had that thing called the spark of love when they first laid eyes on each other. They connected like an apple to an apple tree, but nature eventually takes its course and that apple falls. A perfectly beautiful and ripe apple fell from the tree. The apple wasn't rotten or horrid. My mother. She was perfect, still so young and had a life to live and another to nurture. I took that from her. I'm a monstrous thing who should go die. At least that's what daddy tells me.
"Your mother died giving birth to you! She hates you because you killed her you monster! You deserve no friends, no possessions, no love! You took love from me so now I'm taking it from you! You probably don't even know how to love!"
That's what daddy says to me all the time. The same thing said in different ways. I got used to the feeling of emptiness in my heart. What does love feel like? Maybe daddy is right. Maybe I don't know how to love. Nobody ever showed it to me. Bullied at school by everyone sometimes even teachers, my dad even animals sometimes attack me. Maybe I'm just evil. For I did kill mommy.
Carnivals are just the surface.
"NO STOP! PLEASE!" I screamed as daddy tried to take a wobbly swing at my face. I fell backward on the hard, cold concrete of the garage floor. Next thing I knew my feet were dangling in midair as my daddy grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. He called me a monster and kept punching me in my gut. I started feeling dizzy as I crazily kept kicking and slugging him in his hard stomach to let me go. It didn't help me. I didn't understand how he was so strong sense all daddy did was suck on sticks, long necks, and sleep. I couldn't breath and my gut hurt real bad. He finally dropped me to the floor as I landed with a light thud and slap on the concrete. He gave me one last glare in disappointment and stumbled away mumbling curses to himself. As he stepped away and entered the house he fell. Passed out. I dragged him to his lazy boy the best I could. I quietly snuck a drink and a cheese sandwich from the dark kitchen and quickly went back to my room in the garage. My room was not much. Grey plaster walls with swirls from the plaster and beige concrete floor that got cold at night, so I placed a few blankets that smelt like rotten food, mildew, and sweat in the corner that I got from the drug store dumpster for a bed. Next to my bed is a cute little banged up blue nightstand I found next to someone's house going out to the trash and on the nightstand was my only and most important possession. The doll my mom had bought me before I killed her. It was a beautiful carnival porcelain doll. It no longer had a stand as daddy took it to get scraps from it. It had a beautiful jester-like outfit that showed a little cleavage and a pink sparkly mask. Her soft long blonde hair was in pigtails on the side of her head just like I kept mine. I grabbed my doll and sat there and cried myself asleep wondering if I should join my mommy and if she would forgive me for her death.