Three Bitty Monsters (REWRITE)(DISCONTINUED)

Fuck This, Fuck That and Fuck You.

You whip your head around, searching for the skeletons to no avail.

"Did they just... dip?" You say quietly and you pull up your hood.

You glance at the box and step over to it and nudge it with your foot.....

Yep, You think.

It's definitely a box.

You snort at the thought, but you re-focus on the task at hand....

Do you just.... go home? It seems like the most reasonable thing to do, go home and back to bed with your cat....

But what if they are still around?

What if they follow you home?

You sigh at the thought, and it comes out as an tired and anxious sigh.

You let those types of sighs out a lot, don't you?

You glance around once more, and you put your gun back in your bag, but keep your hand on your knife as you start to leave the park.

"Well uh..." You start, it'd be odd to just run off without an end note.

Although they may not even be here anymore and could've just left.

"Uh.... Have fun on the rain.... I guess.... I'm uh.... going back to bed..... Uh.."

You really don't know where your going with this.

You start to walk home in a..... indirect path.

Which is basically just taking the longest, most complex route you can to make sure your not followed.

What? Did you expect to be a hero? Try to shelter the poor tiny things?

FUCK NO!

You had better things to do.

You are traversing an alleyway when you hear a clang and a trashcan behind is knocked over.

"No~ope!" You say in an almost musical voice.

"No! Fuck this! Fuck that and fuck you! Nope! Go away!" You say to the.... empty alleyway?

It WAS raining pretty hard and it was getting windy, could the wind have knocked it over.

...

Yeah, not risking it.

You let out another string of profanities and duck into another alleyway, taking a longer route.

~~~~~~

It takes you 2 hours in total to get home, which is funny, considering the fact that it took you 20 fucking minutes to get there.

You are soaked, and quite frankly chilled...

Down to the bone!

Ha... ha ha...

Didn't you make them same pun to yourself earlier?

Oh well, it doesn't matter regardless.

You head to your room to find your cat sitting on your pillow and you give it a shakey smile when it meows at you.

You love that cat, so so much.

He was a gift, a gift from your grandpa, you remember the day vividly.

--
It was your 11th birthday and you held your 7 year old brother by the hand as you ran around the woods outside your grandpa's cabin, it was honestly a forest, not a soul in about 6 or 7 miles.

No loud city noises that you hated.

That's why you loved it, and that's why you begged your parents to have your birthday at your grandparents house.

"Please Dad! Pleeeaaasee?" You begged for hours and he finally called your Grandpa up and he gladly agreed.

You were ecstatic.

You wore a green and yellow short sleeved shirt with some blue jeans and red boots and invited all your friends to come.

How could you not? This place was paradise! You were sure they'd love it a much as you did.
~
You felt the warm sun on your back as your family and friends sang 'Happy Birthday' and you stared at the cake, you couldn't stay still!

"Happy birthday to you!" They finished and you blew out the candles and the rest was a blur for a while.

You ate cake.

You laughed.

Hell, your grandma even got a piñata put up and you got the last swing.

But your favriote part?

It was the presents.

You got many things that day.

Toys.

Games.

Money.

Your uncle even got you a pocket knife.

But the best gift was Grandpa's.

He walked up to you, and using his cane to go and sit down in the chair on front of you.

You remember him reaching into his coat and....

There he was.

The runt of the litter.

"Now this is Scotch." He said.

You remember tears welling up in your eyes as you gently took the kitten from your Grandpa's hands and held it close.

You nuzzled your face into it's fur.

You remember saying just loud enough for your Grandpa to hear.

"He's perfect."

--

You snap out of your memory when your hear a crash from your kitchen.

Scotch hissed and jumped into your arms and made his place on your shoulder.

You feel your heart beat in your chest.

You pull out your gun, and slowly clear your apartment.

You creep out to your kitchen and you hear your cat growl.

You honestly should've expected it.

You should've know that you couldn't just throw some profanities and run off.

You shouldn't be surprised.

...

Your eyes widen as you see the three skeletons on your counter and everyone holds their breath.

...

"What are you doing in my house?"

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Origins of your cat and your mental stability!

Scotch! Like Butterscotch! He is a good kitty! Best memory! Good kitty! Pog!

=)

874 Words.