Painful Truth
Tell the truth about something you usually lie about.
((Deeply drunk, slurry and hidden from Nick and anyone who doesn't know about her father and how he died.))
I miss my family. Not Nick and my children. Not that family.
I mean the other family. My father. My mother. My half brother, Nicholas. My half sister, Kiana. The whole way of life, that knowing who you are and what your place is in the order of things.
Now, let me acknowledge the rather obvious and glaring fact that I killed two out of those four people, whether directly or indirectly, my toddler child melted the internal organs of one of them and my birth was the root cause of another one's murder.
But that's not really relevant to this speeding train of thought.
So...my birth father, who probably had a dick the size of a giant Sequoia, got offed by my other daddy, who couldn't fuck well enough to satisfy a nympho crack whore with a vibrator up her ass. I don't wanna speak ill of the dead, but since I killed the sonofabitch myself, I think I can safely say that I've seen mosquito bites bigger than his dick. As a child, it looked ENORMOUS! MONSTER DICK!!! AHHHHHHHHHH! But then later, after seeing others on a voluntary basis, I have to say that I'm retroactively unimpressed. It's like having memories of a Hot Wheel when you've ridden in a tank.
I killed him. I killed Kiki, indirectly. My child unknowingly killed Nicky. My mother was strangled in a limo because of me. Because of me. Because I exist.
Oh, Alex...loving me...being my big brother...it's a fucking dangerous thing. One false move, and YOU could be next. One cookie not delivered, one birthday forgotten, and you could have your innards turned into nacho cheese dip, and your dick will fall off. That's my family. Protect your dick. The last of the family jewels...yupyupyippyyupyupyup. Of course, you're shooting blanks, so it isn't like you're spawning progeny that might grow up and smother you with a pillow! Oops...forgot about Riene.
But I digress...
*takes a sip of martini*
You know what I miss? I miss being at the dinner table and not being at the head of the table. I miss tension in the air as you ate, so thick with distrust and pain that you could cut it with your heavy silver butter knife.
I never knew whether to cut the asparagus or stab the person next to me through the heart.
Ahhhh...good times.
*shakes and pours more*
You just can't replicate family love like that. It's that kind of love that prepares you for the larger world.
*nods, deep sigh*
Dead now! Thaaaaat's right, folks. Stabbity, stab stab. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. Bwahahahaha!
*whispers and points, wiggling her finger*
Looky, looky...Alexeeeeee. I love you bestest in the *throws arms wide* whooooole world! You lucky guy. *snorts and laughs* I love you. Sorry.
Family. The ties that bind until you choke to death.
It's a tradition.
...
ALEX!
*giggles* I want Christmas cards. Me and you on Santa's lap. Before I die. Or you do.
((Deeply drunk, slurry and hidden from Nick and anyone who doesn't know about her father and how he died.))
I miss my family. Not Nick and my children. Not that family.
I mean the other family. My father. My mother. My half brother, Nicholas. My half sister, Kiana. The whole way of life, that knowing who you are and what your place is in the order of things.
Now, let me acknowledge the rather obvious and glaring fact that I killed two out of those four people, whether directly or indirectly, my toddler child melted the internal organs of one of them and my birth was the root cause of another one's murder.
But that's not really relevant to this speeding train of thought.
So...my birth father, who probably had a dick the size of a giant Sequoia, got offed by my other daddy, who couldn't fuck well enough to satisfy a nympho crack whore with a vibrator up her ass. I don't wanna speak ill of the dead, but since I killed the sonofabitch myself, I think I can safely say that I've seen mosquito bites bigger than his dick. As a child, it looked ENORMOUS! MONSTER DICK!!! AHHHHHHHHHH! But then later, after seeing others on a voluntary basis, I have to say that I'm retroactively unimpressed. It's like having memories of a Hot Wheel when you've ridden in a tank.
I killed him. I killed Kiki, indirectly. My child unknowingly killed Nicky. My mother was strangled in a limo because of me. Because of me. Because I exist.
Oh, Alex...loving me...being my big brother...it's a fucking dangerous thing. One false move, and YOU could be next. One cookie not delivered, one birthday forgotten, and you could have your innards turned into nacho cheese dip, and your dick will fall off. That's my family. Protect your dick. The last of the family jewels...yupyupyippyyupyupyup. Of course, you're shooting blanks, so it isn't like you're spawning progeny that might grow up and smother you with a pillow! Oops...forgot about Riene.
But I digress...
*takes a sip of martini*
You know what I miss? I miss being at the dinner table and not being at the head of the table. I miss tension in the air as you ate, so thick with distrust and pain that you could cut it with your heavy silver butter knife.
I never knew whether to cut the asparagus or stab the person next to me through the heart.
Ahhhh...good times.
*shakes and pours more*
You just can't replicate family love like that. It's that kind of love that prepares you for the larger world.
*nods, deep sigh*
Dead now! Thaaaaat's right, folks. Stabbity, stab stab. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. Bwahahahaha!
*whispers and points, wiggling her finger*
Looky, looky...Alexeeeeee. I love you bestest in the *throws arms wide* whooooole world! You lucky guy. *snorts and laughs* I love you. Sorry.
Family. The ties that bind until you choke to death.
It's a tradition.
...
ALEX!
*giggles* I want Christmas cards. Me and you on Santa's lap. Before I die. Or you do.