I sat alone in my room playing with my Barbie doll, “she’s perfect,” I thought to myself. I would do anything to look like my Barbie, she has these beautiful blue eyes and she is slim, but me, I’m a chunky monkey, at least that’s the nickname daddy calls me, and I wear these harry potter glasses that take up most of my eight year old face. I began exploring every single part of my Barbie doll.
“AMANDA, COME HERE” my mother yelled
“MANDY, GET HERE NOW” she called again
what could she possibly want know I wondered, “COMING MAMA” I yelled back
I scooped myself up off the floor and placed my Barbie on my dresser, and went to see what my mom wanted, most likely something stupid, like getting the remote which was in arms reach on the bed right next to her.
My mother is a crack feen and a drug dealer. She smokes, drinks, and is always filled with rage, can you believe it’s been 2 years since I’ve seen her crack a smile. I have a baby sister, her name is Gabriella and she is two, she would constantly cry at night and sleep in the mornings, she always soiled her diaper and spit up, typical baby things, but mama was not happy about it when Gabby began to walk and cause trouble mama would spank her. Then we have daddy. I call him my king, my hero and the perfect man. Daddy, he always cooks for me and Gabby and takes us to the park, he buys us clothes and I always got $10 dollars for lunch money and he tells me to treat myself to something nice at the snack machine at school.
“AMANDA TEQUILA SMITH, DON’T MAKE ME CALL YOU ONCE MORE” my mother barked.
My mother loves the drink Tequila and had me while she was drunk; daddy was on a business trip, her friend chose the name Amanda, my mother insisted to call me Tequila so it went in the middle.
“Yes, mama?” I said walking into her room
where’s your sister? She asked
“She was asleep on the floor in the kitchen, but I placed her on my bed about 10 minutes ago”
“Good, sit on the chair right there, I have to show you something, we need to talk” my mother said. I sat on the chair, I hate when my mother wants to talk, it’s usually about drugs, alcohol and the guys she had sex with, my mouth got sour but I waited for whatever came my way, besides, I’m used to it. Daddy was asleep with the blankets over his head, just the way he always sleeps.
“Mandy, when you grow up find you a good man, one who will give you everything you want and need the first time you ask for it, you hear me?” she said
“Yes mama, I will find me a good man, one just like daddy” I said with a smile
“Daddy? You think he’s a good man? NO. He is a worthless piece of shit”
“No, daddy is my knight and shining armor, and my best friend”
“Not for long” she said
My mother took the blanket off my father’s head, he was tied to the bed, by his hands and feet and he had tape around his mouth.
“DADDY!” I yelled, running over to him
“SIT THE FUCK DOWN,” my mother snapped, as she slapped me across the face.
I began to weep, she has never done something so outrageous, she would often batter my father when she did not get her way, and he never laid a finger on her. Last night, they argued because, daddy refused to give her money for a drug deal and she beat him, and he did nothing but block his face, he could barely walk, he’s been in bed all day. I watched as my father wiggled around and tried to yell.
“Now baby girl, this is what happens to men who don’t provide me with what I want” mommy said pulling out a knife from her drawer. She walked over to me and ran her fingers through my hair, this always soothed me, but not today, a monster was stroking my hair today. She walked over to my daddy, and without hesitation she slit his throat, the blood began to pour from the bed and onto the hardwood floor, “Drip, Drip, Drip,” that’s all I heard, I ran to my father’s side to untie him.
“AMANDA, GO SIT YOUR ASS DOWN AND DO NOT GET UP AGAIN, DAMNIT” my mother barked in frustration
I ran back to the chair, trying my hardest to fight back the tears, but it became unbearable. My father lay there helpless, and struggling to live.
“Why?” my father questioned
“DON’T QUESTION MY MOTIVES NOR MY ACTIONS” my mother said.
She began to stab him in his chest.
“1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22…” 22 times … she stabbed my daddy Twenty-two times.
I began to cry hysterically, what made it worse was that she was uncertain if he was still breathing, so she decided to suffocate him with the pillow. As soon as she checked his pulse a smile of satisfaction came upon her face, she walked over to me and told me not to tell a soul what I just witnessed, how could I possibly keep quiet? I promised her I wouldnt but, she noticed that i had my fingers crossed behind my back, , that’s when she lift up my shirt and carved a star onto my hip with the same knife she used to murder my father, a star resembled what she would always say to me, "Mandy my sweet darling, dont you be afraid of mama's struggles, just look up at the star that shines the brightest and remember, your mama is looking at it too", I yelled at her in disgust and told her I hated her, she wiped my daddy’s blood from his chest and smeared it onto my face like a mask, and simply said, “Do you really think I give a fuck? I wanted you to see this, you’re just like him I should kill you too, but you’re my seed, I cant do it, but I wish I had the balls too, stupid bitch," Suddenly, my mother got a phone call and she told me to watch my sister she had “business” to handle and she would be back in the morning, and just like that she was gone. I took my little sister, hopped into the shower with her and got her ready. I packed some clothes for us and kissed the door where my father lay deceased and at that moment I took my sister and began to run, I don’t know where and neither did I care, I just wanted to get away from here, far far away..
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Authors Note:
This was my first story, Comment and Vote tell me what you thought. I know it started off a little gruesome, but let me know what you enjoyed and what you disliked. Comment for the next part. Thank you for reading. AnneMarii Xoxoxo *
