The Day the World Turned Red

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Hi. My name is Cassidy. I just turned eight a few weeks ago. I live an average life with my mom and dad. Mom cries a lot when Dad’s home. He’s usually drunk when he walks in the door, and his favorite game to play with Mom is wrestling. But Dad cheats a lot. He used his belt and sometimes the kitchen knife. It usually ends with Dad passing out on the couch and Mom drinking her wine while she sobs in the bathroom with the door locked. But last night, she just packed her stuff and left. By the time my Dad woke up it was almost dawn, and Mom had been gone for hours.

                He woke me up and said I didn’t have to go to school today and that he was going to go out and will be back later. When he got back, I was in my bed taking my daily nap. It lasted until he opened my door and entered my room. He had his shotgun. I asked what was he doing. He said to go back to sleep. I thought I was fixing to get a belting for scribbling on his notebook papers. The last thing I heard was a loud “pow” before the world went black.

                Your hearts now racing. “What did I just read?” Another story about an unfortunate situation. This has been done before. A horror story from an oblivious narrator. But maybe, this was done on purpose to protect you from something… like the truth. The author of this doesn’t want to scar you from the true outcome. I, on the other hand, want you to know. She’s divine. She’s free. She’s our savior sent from heaven. I won’t allow her to be smothered away by false stories of her being oblivious. She was aware, oh, so aware.

What happened? She wasn’t oblivious. She knew what was going on. It was routine to her. She watched as her dad beat her mom. And she loved it. She would hide in the closet and wait, peering through the cracks on the sides, just to get a better view. She loved watching the lashes form on Mom’s back from the belt and the slashes left with the kitchen knife that engulfed the tile floor with blood. Sometimes, if Cassady was lucky, a little bit of Mom’s blood would dry on the knife. Cassady would lick the blood from it as if she had just diced a copper flavored apple.

But last night, Cassady finely felt her enlightenment. Mom didn’t pack her things and leave, she left a note. But that note was fake. It was written by Cassidy. Cassidy took her favorite licking knife and drove it into her mother’s throat. It glided in like a hot knife going through butter. Did I just make a joke?

Next, was her dad. When he came home, he saw Mom’s dead carcass lying on the ground with a wild beast that was once his daughter, lying on top, eating Mom’s contents. Cassidy’s lips were stained in a red deeper than lipstick. He was appalled. He started to uncontrollably vomit. Cassidy saw her chance. She pulled out her tasty knife from Mom, and dug it into the back of Dad. He was paralyzed instantly. As he fell, Cassidy struck again, this time, instead of killing him, she just started to feast. She ripped layer after layer of skin as Dad watched, only able to scream, which put a smile on Cassidy’s maroon face, with blood dripping off her chin. Then the world turned red.