Morbid Fantasies...in a stupid way
This is a mind blurb. You have been warned. I was thinking about it in the shower, and all of a sudden, it came to me! Wow! It was written down in the spur of the moment, so it's not completely perfected. Also, my cliches are totally visible.
Title: Covered in Rain
Summary: Childhood ignorance- in a sort of morbid setting
***
She remembered.
She remembered childhood ignorance.
Her father would come home, drenched. Her mother would go running to him and ask, “Are you alright, dear?” and he would smile and say, “Business as usual.”
And she would ask him, “Daddy? Is it raining outside?”
And he would smile. A sad smile, but a smile none the less. “No, it isn’t kiddo. Why?”
“Because you have red water all over you. Were the clouds red today?”
“No they were not. This isn’t red water. It’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“Something that you will learn about when you are older.”
“How come everything’s when I’m older?”
“It just is. That’s how life is.”
And she let it go. She accepted his explanation.
And then another day, he came home drenched in red again.
“Daddy? Are you a painter?”
“No, I’m not. Why?”
“Because today we were using finger paints. And the red paint looks exactly like that one. Except that…it didn’t smell like that.”
“It didn’t? Really…”
“Yes. The red paint smells tangier. This one smells salty.”
She would wipe some off of his sleeve.
“It’s not like paint. It feels different.”
“Well, just don’t eat it, alright?”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t good for you.”
“How do you know?”
“Mm…I know.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say Daddy’s tried it before.”
“Okay…” And then her mother would ask her to come help with dinner, a worried look on her face. She never knew what her mother meant by that look.
She was so ignorant.
Now she knew all about it.
“Father…you were always drenched in it.” And she would smell her own sleeve, taking in that salty scent.
“You were always drenched in blood.” Smoothing her outfit…
“You made me promise to never go down your path when I found out what you did and what you were.” Moving like smoke…
“But I find myself going down it.” Lifting the knife…
“Going down the path of blood.” Plunging it downwards…
Assassin…
***
Title: Covered in Rain
Summary: Childhood ignorance- in a sort of morbid setting
***
She remembered.
She remembered childhood ignorance.
Her father would come home, drenched. Her mother would go running to him and ask, “Are you alright, dear?” and he would smile and say, “Business as usual.”
And she would ask him, “Daddy? Is it raining outside?”
And he would smile. A sad smile, but a smile none the less. “No, it isn’t kiddo. Why?”
“Because you have red water all over you. Were the clouds red today?”
“No they were not. This isn’t red water. It’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“Something that you will learn about when you are older.”
“How come everything’s when I’m older?”
“It just is. That’s how life is.”
And she let it go. She accepted his explanation.
And then another day, he came home drenched in red again.
“Daddy? Are you a painter?”
“No, I’m not. Why?”
“Because today we were using finger paints. And the red paint looks exactly like that one. Except that…it didn’t smell like that.”
“It didn’t? Really…”
“Yes. The red paint smells tangier. This one smells salty.”
She would wipe some off of his sleeve.
“It’s not like paint. It feels different.”
“Well, just don’t eat it, alright?”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t good for you.”
“How do you know?”
“Mm…I know.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say Daddy’s tried it before.”
“Okay…” And then her mother would ask her to come help with dinner, a worried look on her face. She never knew what her mother meant by that look.
She was so ignorant.
Now she knew all about it.
“Father…you were always drenched in it.” And she would smell her own sleeve, taking in that salty scent.
“You were always drenched in blood.” Smoothing her outfit…
“You made me promise to never go down your path when I found out what you did and what you were.” Moving like smoke…
“But I find myself going down it.” Lifting the knife…
“Going down the path of blood.” Plunging it downwards…
Assassin…
***