The Horrible Wish

*Anne*

The horror started when Mom made pancakes.

First off, let me explain.

My mom is not a, let me just say, ~motherly~ type. She is more of a "oh-no-you-fell-man-up-bitch" type. So, long story short, I make my own food, or I get none.

On the off chance (or more realistically, never) she does make me food, oh man. It's the best stuff ever. It's like the angels took pity on her daughter and made sure the food was from Jesus's table.

Anyway, she was humming away in the kitchen, pulling flour and huckleberries from the cupboards when suddenly she stops. She drops the huckleberries; the berries make a splatting sound as they tumble out of their small cardboard container.

I glance up from my phone and pull one earbud from my ear. I ask, "Mom, are you ok?"

She makes no answer. I frown, puzzled. She usually answers right away, to keep me from asking the same question for a year and a half.

Then, she makes a full body jerk, then starts to jerk uncontrollably.

This is something out of a horror movie, or maybe Last Of Us. I swear to God, if I start to go up to her, she will be sure to attack. Maybe if I have a weapon, I can defend myself. I think to myself.

Making no sound, I get up from the couch and pick up the poker from the fireplace. The poker catches on the loose stone she was going to fix; it makes a squeak as it grates on the rough granite. She jerks around and looks at me.

I start to scream.

*well, how is it? I know its kinda short, but I'll get it longer next chapter. Luvs-Gabbagurl*