Hush we are killing our daughter

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Summary

If we abuse the children when they grow up they may change into something we dislike the shadows can talk after all they speak through the new adults. We seek to justify our lusts and our lack of involvement with the cares of the home as it is not romantic and does not paddy to our self satisfied ways of behaving. We all enjoy the outdoors more than in. When the caring selfless are stigmatised because we find this world so enticing having double cakes and making the cake of ourselves we lust for the gory bits when we find our way home the hammer house begins. We dance and make love in the full public glare only to hide in shame when we dare not tell the world who and what we are. Snobs and the beasts who cared are yelling to be yanked off but there are chains more difficult to break even then those we yell and nothing matters but to drown that.

Genre:
Horror / Humor
Author:
pencil
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
11
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
18+

Chapter 1

Every little thing matters in life what you do what you speak what you have to behave in. In accordance with the dictates of who one is. When one is a nothing then it does not seem to matter at all. When the little monstrosity is just that burden whom nobody wants to cart and carry and nothing but illness is forecast then that is what one becomes. Behaviour in the right mode of course difficult spoilt and impossible to deal with. Dealt me a blow life dealt me such a blow I am still reeling from it. Ordinary life smashed to pieces take me out of here I want to live and be, the unbearable woman who is your mother is too much to make a relative of. When one is having all the pleasantries when one is younger than one’s smalls. This is me this is two cakes for the price of one how many cakes does a human need?

Where did the angels get to when did I see through them all? What happened to me to make me so bitter and why is there now nobody to cry with me? Empty rooms and emptying the bins all the time this issue with the lot I have found myself in. What does it matter when the material girl is more important than anybody else? When the material well off are the most prized possessions when the little thing on the road to recovery is given her arch enemy as the sorry excuse to cure her illness with. When this other wife does not leave her alone picking on the wounds until they become gangrene. When one ages the thoughts go back in time to places to times when one is naïve and childhood happiness blossoms.

I think now of the past as the ding doing which is chiming inside me telling me to make haste that time is nearing towards the end of me. Wonderful to feel that before the table has been set the deeds done to towards others as done for me? But we have feasted now run along and nag someone else we can’t pay we do not even have the will to answer the phone calls you making interrupting our happiness.

Taken for rides so many my head are spinning.

“What is the matter with you betraying us in such manner?”

“I whom God has forsaken.”

“No one has.”

“We are still here.”

Point taken. They are always here with me doing me out of house and home making me marking me undoing what matters.

“Nothing matters to you but yourself.”

“Does it make life any worse?”

“Unfeeling ingratitude after taking her in and taking care of her.”

“Your mother left with you in a small seat sat just so with fleas.”

“Strapped on the seat unable to leave the damn thing.”

“And now you complain of little work.”

I cry so much it hurts. They could have spared me that but nothing was wasted nothing was over looked they had to have a willing servant and one without the wit and willingness was not to their liking, someone who could cover for the likes of mother who was a bit lazy and the uncle dad who was a bit slovenly. I was perfect victim.

They spent so much time and energy making certain that I would do as I was told I grew suspicious and begun to fret. What were they doing and why was it so important that I did not have anybody but mother and daddy? My day would end and start with these people. Others did not seem to matter as much they seem to be shadows and jades and jackals who made off into the other world and lived lives and made happiness and little people like themselves and the lies one hears are over rated. I thought they made out in front of me and still there was nothing the matter with the real me the worthy me the selfish love I felt for everyone and believed in their goodness was surety of not being doomed to behave in such a bad fashion as them. I had to be a fool in order to matter to me myself.

“Stupidity was me?”

Simpleton?

The word echoed on and on she is now harmless just this simpleton who is a bit beautiful.

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