A Nightmare of the Common Parent (via 2003)
I see her everywhere.
At the supermarket. In class. At the theater. Arrogantly, just ignoring me. She just sits there, even in church, paying attention to the pastor's lecture, knowing damned well she's distracting me. A stalker she is, I tell you. No! She doesn't merely stalk as one who follows her victim—rather, she's planned her schedule around mine. Yes! Even more thoroughly truthful, and more credible, she's a demon. Yes, a beautiful demon, manifesting herself into a tangible young girl. She knows where I'll be, thus she arrives before myself--in foreshadowing mockery.
The estranged girl, a mere bloody girl bastard, was unfortunately a child born out of wedlock, thus accursed she was. What guilt and shame that child brought to my integrity. And the brat of a mother she had had. To seduce me so. So cunning and conniving and witchy, the mother was. Cursed be them both! That is why they both had to die.
I really had to do it. Get thee behind me, Satan! The witchy woman caused me to sin, so I plucked her out like a sinful eye—an eye in a state of lust, thus freeing myself. The truth in my realization set me free—my testimony empowered. It was fairly easy to bear this cross. Allow me to explain, for daily bearing this cross and renewing my mind becomes more enjoyable as the days go on.
The mother of the girl bastard at least stays put, remaining where I placed her beautiful, cold carcass—at the bottom of the lake. But I did use the prime cuts of her buttocks and breasts in my meatloaf, prepared with the choicest tomatoes and onions and large eggs. My students ate well that day.
However, that little daughter just won't put, that girl bastard. I've tried everything. Scoldings, putting her in the corner, extra chores, spankings, still other things; and she still visits me while I tend to my errands. The arrogant, stubborn girl bastard is so benevolent! Just like her mother. And almost as sinfully enticing as the years progress, as she gets older.
I do believe the first time I rid of her and her evilness was at the lake with her mother. Oh, how beautiful she was, not older than a youthful six months in age. She appeared so deceptively innocent, yet I knew very well the evil that lurked inside her shallow torso, just awaiting to emerge. I knew the curses that hid well behind those big, curious and gay eyes. I had to rid of her before she'd turn into the slut her mother was. It was inevitable. And just as sad. She sank beneath the lake's surface peaceably, never once arguing. I cried myself to sleep that evening, guilt leaving with the snores.
She behaved and stayed put for a few years, but then started to show up. First at the daycare I taught part time. I resigned immediately in a state of anxious despair, applying then for a position at the local grammar school teaching mathematics. She turned up at this school, as well. That's when I killed her the second time, this mischievous girl bastard. Just as she did as an infant, she welcomed death silently, like a lamb to the slaughter. I placed her limp, frail body in the furnace of the school's boiler room. The following day, I took her bones and disposed of them into a dumpster, within a sturdy Glad garbage bag.
She still yet returned a couple of years later at my church. After the second Sunday of her imposing presence, I flogged her privately and rid of remains in a similar fashion as previously mentioned.
Following this incident, just as things were getting on well with my life, I saw her again--this time at the mall. Demonic in nature, I swear she is, that girl bastard. Again, the girl in radiant seductiveness, clothed in innocence, needed to be rid of. This time, she refused to go quietly. Her flirtatious attire similar to that of her mother's, giving the surrounding people a peek at this and a glimpse of that, as she kicked and screamed. These alerted other customers, but after seeing she was obviously my child, they calmed and carried on their duties. Daddy was taking his trouble-making child home. What a good father I was.
(sigh)
This is maddening. Pure lack of pleasure, not to mention my unsuccessfulness. I think the girl bastard's become schizophrenic. I pray for her. You can pray for her, as well, for she needs redemption desperately. Deliverance. Yes, that's the ticket! I'll do an exorcism—schizophrenia is mere demonic possession, is it not? Why haven't I thought of this before? Deliverance, oh yes! I feel such a release of stress. God knows I've tried everything and nothing's worked satisfactorily: spankings, embarrassment, drownings, burnings (you'll never forget such a smell, by the way), stabbings, lynching, sodomy with sharp items, a gun shot, everything I could think of.
It was fifteen or so years since the girl bastard's birth, two years since I've seen her last. I didn't even recognize her at first, sitting in my Algebra II class. The new girl, tardy this morning, sat down in the open seat in the front of the room, after I introduced the new student. I addressed that she'd need to be more punctual.
During my lecture on the subtraction of variables, I glanced to the windows and saw the reflection of the girl bastard watching me. I glanced back to the new girl's seat, and there once again was the girl bastard, the one I've killed oh so many times. I had my game plan down now. I will deliver this cursed child with an exorcism, for she's in chains and needs to be freed. In good timing....
I did well in ignoring the girl bastard until the dismissal bell rang. I asked her to stay, in regards to her tardiness, and do you know what that cunning girl said? I'll tell you her response! She said she got lost in the halls. Lost. Girl bastard, if you only knew lost! How can a flirtatious stalker of a girl bastard get lost, one that can so easily find her victim? Of, how continuously tortured, I am! Where's the relief? The answer is simply to free the captive—deliverance.
I smiled at her. Such a poor doll of a girl bastard, being such like her mother, the tempter. Pouting there, as well--just like her mother. The moment for the exorcism was at hand.
"Come out!" I cried aloud, as I jumped on top of her. "Freedom to the captive! Don't fight it!" I was probing and choking her, I believe. "You look confused. Claim your victory and be free! Open your eyes; release the demon—"
Suddenly, I was seized by school security. It was like waking up from a terribly awesome dream, as I was being restrained.
The girl was different now, no longer being the girl bastard. This student was crying. I wanted to embrace her. "We did it!" I exclaimed hysterically, as she was escorted briskly into the hall. A-ha, it worked! The girl bastard is gone, most likely to the destination for such evil as her and her mother. Way, far away. Staying put, like a good girl. Peacefulness, finally.
Well, peacefulness until my release from jail three years later.