The Diary of the Devil

The Diary of the Devil [3]

I dedicated this chapter to WolfieLover because they were the first commenter on chapter 2! Rock on, WolfieLover. ;D

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The minute I walked through the front door, my mom called me into the kitchen. The house smelled like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. My stomach growled ferociously. Chocolate chip cookies, the crunchy kind, were my favorite food in the entire world.

My eyes zeroed in on the tray of cookies laying on a cooling rack. Before I could even reach out a hand to grab one, Mom turned around from her position at the stove and slapped me away. I drew back defensively and hopped up onto one of the counters.

"So, I'm guessing I can't have a cookie?" I asked, jutting out my lower lip.

"No, you cannot." Mom turned back around, grabbed a plate off the stove, and handed it to me. It was layered with raw carrots, peppers, celery, and a bunch of other gross, healthy stuff.

I whined. "Mommy. I want a cookie."

"You'll get fat. Eat your vegetables." I sulkily munched on a carrot, trying to pretend it was a cookie. It didn't work.

"So if you didn't make the cookies for me," I glared at her, "then what did you make them for?"

"Well," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and jumping up on the counter next to me. "Mrs. Callers got a big promotion at her job, and she was really excited, so I wanted to congratulate her."

"And you couldn't have done it with lemon bars or cake? You just had to inflict more torture upon me?" I narrowed my eyes at the cookies.

Mom laughed. "I'll let you have one if you deliver the cookies to her."

I licked my lips theatrically. "Sure. For two." I slid off the counter and moved to pick up the tray. I paused. "Wait a minute." I put my hands on my hips and sighed at my mother. "Is Max going to be there?"

Mom avoided my gaze and picked at her apron. "Well, she does live there."

I groaned. "Mom! You know I hate her. I can't stand her!"

Mom sighed and looked at me disbelievingly. "Are you still on that childish dispute of yours? She's a beautiful young woman. I don't see why you don't like her."

"Mother," I gritted. "You are not me. You don't see what I see. You are not tortured by her day after day. She hates me. It's mutual. I don't see why you can't get that."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Fine, whatever. Just take this over there."

I picked up three cookies, wrapped them in a napkin, and stuffed them in the fridge. "Just because I have to see Max, I get three cookies."

I stuck my tongue out at my mom, picked up the tray of cookies, and marched three steps to the Callers residence. Their house was exactly like ours. Simple structure, small front porch, neat landscaping. They were kind of close together. The differences were our house was gray and their house was blue, ours had yellow flowers, theirs had purple. I dropped the knocker three times and waited as I heard the clacking of heels.