A single plea sparked his creaky eyelids to full on awake, zero to redline in zero point zero seconds. The creatures' pointy ears perked up and red foaming spittle flew from his quivering cracked lips. The aroma of fresh death was in the air and he was about to feast on a tasty morsel of "Meals on Heels." Come on little meatball, don't fear the reaper! Death was in his grasp and he wasn't about to have it ripped out from beneath his jagged nose, especially by some stupid old fool in love. I could dance that old bone bag like a marionette performing the "Herky Jerky" to the hum of a 220 volt live wire. Hmmm, that particular mental image holds a lot of promise. Proud of himself he filed the prose away for a later day and unconsciously hummed the oldie but moldy, "Why do fools fall in love?" Then catching himself he began his rant, "Why do these insipid humans care so much for each other? It's sickening... A disgusting yelping human child is born into this depraved world and they act as if they've witnessed an actual miracle. Drooling all over the squalling squirming masses of protoplasm as if they actually hold some intrinsic value. And grandparents are the worst. You'd think as old as they are they'd be sick of the wriggling brats!" He snarled and nodded his warped chin towards his well disciplined mucus filled minions. "Keep an eye on them, especially the fatal girl with the squishy heart." His crusty cronies huddled up and took their orders well. They'd better. "You can't touch her just yet... I'm waiting for the word and then she's mine."
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"Bell wants to see you, Alfred, "Ella said, holding a bedpan, startling him and Izzy both. It was well known Ella too had sneak-ability. "Make it brief." Alfred and Izzy were speechless. Was this indeed kindness coming from Ella on an early Saturday morning? "Don't act as if I've given you the moon. You're not moving back in, only saying good day to my daughter. Please make it a quick visit. She needs her rest."
"Yes, of course, Ella," Alfred gushed. He left at once for Bell's room.
"I need you to empty this bedpan," Ella ordered shoving it towards Izzy.
"Why me? Why do I always have to empty this wretched thing?" Izzy took the pan and held it as far away from her as her arms could stretch. Holding it made her insides quiver; she never let on instead opted to sound like a rebellious teenager.
"You don't always have to empty it. Exaggerating is an unladylike trait. And with what you've done to your hair you can't afford to be unladylike in the least." Ella touched her daughter's cropped hair.
Izzy jerked away. "What's the matter, Mother? Don't you like my hair? It's the latest fashion in the down and dirty set. Perhaps I should dump this bedpan on my head and be done with it?" I wouldn't do that in a million years...
"One more nasty word and I will ground you, Miss Izzy!" Mother always required the last word. She headed for the kitchen to avoid further confrontation.
Izzy's anger over ruled her compulsions and she ran after her, sloshing the pan's contents. "Ground me from what, Mother? There are no more phones, television, or internet... I've read all our boring, safe books dozens of times. There is nothing left to ground me from!"
With an insidious grin, Ella stabbed Izzy's heart. "I'll ground you from Bell."
Knowing full well, her mother had won, Izzy marched into their only bathroom and dispensed the foul contents of the bedpan into the toilet. Afterward she scraped off the heavy porcelain lid and poured a bucket of water into the back and flushed. Next she climbed onto the fire escape and replaced the empty bucket on the open platform and hoped for rain.
How did the world deteriorate so quickly? She lingered outside on the balcony for a while, looking at the brown, hazy sky. As she cooled off she rubbed her hands over and over to kill the germs as well as the evil thoughts.
----End of Chapter 7-
Author's note: I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Please vote, comment, follow and add The Wasting to your library. If you've got a book you'd like me to check out—I'd be delighted.
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The Wasting
Paranormale***COMPLETED***So get this... We've been living in a dystopian nightmare for 10 years now. Grandpa Alfred says it's the older generation's fault--well duh! To make matters worse, Bell, my twin sister, contracted "The Wasting." No doubt she caught it...