Random fucked up stories that I couldn't help but right down

The scream that I need to hear

Inspired by 'Don't hug me I'm scared' (Video attached)
When mommy told me that daddy would come home after such a long time, I was really happy. I love my dad and I missed him so much while he was gone, so when mommy suggested that I make something for him as a surprise, I wanted to give him the best gift ever. I even wrapped it up nicely; I put it in a box with a little pink bow at the top. I thought daddy was going to like it, but I thought wrong.

When I gave him the gift, he had a huge smile on his face, happy that I made him one, but when he opened it, his smile dropped as well as the gift and he let out a scream. A scream of terror, a scream of disgust, a scream of surprise that his little nine year old daughter would do such a thing. Looking back, I quiet liked that scream and I am looking forward to hearing it again sometime.

That aside, I was devastated that he didn't like my gift. Mommy came rushing into the room, having heard daddy's scream. She screamed as well, when she saw the gift lying on the ground. I looked at the gift myself, not understanding what was wrong with it.

It was a still beating human heart covered in glitter and blood. It looked perfectly fine to me. There was nothing wrong with taking a knife out of the kitchen drawer and cutting out the babysitters heart to give it to your father, right? I mean, I even made it pretty with the glitter. I thought a regular paper heart wasn't special enough for my dad.

The next day I got put into what I heard mummy call a 'mental institution'. There were a lot of weird people there. Funnily enough they looked almost more like humans than my parents or the staff here. I waved at every person I saw. Some waved back, some glanced at my red bracelet I was given and then quickly turned away. I don't understand why though. I never did anything wrong.

I've been in here for almost a month now and I hated it. I stared around my blank cell that I was locked in for the night. So blank and boring. I was so tired of seeing the same walls every night, I was so tired of my 'schedule' that I had everyday. The only thing I like was the lady I went to everyday to talk too. She was nice and gave me candy, but I wanted to get out of here. I slowly took out the knife that I asked the nice lady I the canteen for. She didn't give it to me, so I broke into the kitchen before bed time and tested out its sharpness by sticking it into the canteen ladies back.

I sat here, on my bed with the knife in my hand and waited for someone to come, tell me to get to bed and tuck me in. I heard the jiggling of keys and my door being unlocked. In came the young guy with a brown quiff, the same guy who showed me around in the first day. He saw the knife in my hand. I saw the shock and fear in his eyes. I heard him hastily trying to get me to put the knife away as I slowly got up to walk towards him. I heard him stumbling over his words and legs trying to scramble away from me. I heard him fall and beg for, I believe it was mercy? I didn't want him dead. In fact I kind of pitied that it had to be him.

I sunk my knife into his chest and heard that scream of terror, surprise and sorrow. His blood poured onto my hands and the floor. I didn't regret killing him one bit. The scream flooded into my ears and into my body. It rained through my blood stream and into my soul. I really did enjoy that scream, that scream that I have been aching to hear again since I heard it the first time from my father. The scream that I needed to hear.