Typing a zombie story starring me and my friends, and then the seven year old runs through the front door and yells at my mom that your body is in her broken-down car. She turns to me and screams, "what is her body doing in my car?!"
I feel my heart skip a beat, and my mind is boggled. Why would seven year old tell? I look at the ten year old, and give a depressed look. We get up, and I put on my jeans and jacket to put your corpse in a different place.
Opening the car door, I see the box that you lie in. My eyes get blurry, and I pick you up. Good thing a blanket is covering you, but I see your paw poking out, and I carefully hide it. Ten year old and me walk to the trailer and put your body in the messy trailer.
I place you down, and say:
"this won't be the last time I carry you, Mustache".
I sit in my room, and you enter. You curse at me, saying I'm a good for nothing child. You say mean things to me, "you are afraid of your own shadow!", "you're fifteen! You're better than this, and all you do is sit in your fucking room all day!"
But, I have something I want to do in life; and that's drawing. I love drawing, but every time you enter my world, you just seem to rip down my artwork, tear away at my pride, and you just make me feel... useless. Even though I know I am useless, I can't cook, clean, or even make friends correctly.
Your words make me feel useless, you even called me a bitch once or twice. You're my fucking mother... This is exactly why I am corrupted. Why I'm useless. Why I am... different. You make me feel terrible about my self-esteem. You make me wear make-up when I say it isn't what I like and something I am not fond of. But you just spit in my face and smear the make-up on, you make me wear clothes that will make my non-existent
Ignorance and AnnoyanceIgnorance and Annoyance
I walk past you, and you just say hi. I then give you a dirty look and say, "shut up". You then quiet down, and I walk into the kitchen to see the tinier annoying one. I just stare at her, and then she runs away, screaming but laughing while she does. You're both annoying, you're six years old, and the other is three years old. I hate both of you. Six year old, you're an idiot, and whatever you say annoys me. So I try to ignore you.
Three year old, you annoy me, you always enter my room and just stand there, expecting me to get pissed off. You're just an annoyance to me. I want to hit both of you, but I don't think I want to, knowing you're so much tinier than me...
I am the worst kind of person, some people may not agree with that, but we all have our dark secrets. And my secrets, will be told no matter what. Six and three year old, I wish both of you would forgive me, but you're still so young.