Christmas number 13 and we received the exact amount of presents, we took pictures as we opened them and they were taken away. My parents take the non clothes items back and the clothes are put away and we can wear them on assigned days.
I have been coughing up blood and can barely breathe, but I know from the times before it will heal. My father is taking me out today to hunt and I am so looking forward to it. My brother and I are locked in our rooms and my Mother is on the phone acting as the perfect person and Mother to all her friends; just a normal day in Hell.
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I’m back from hunting. It was a cat this time, no dogs to be found; my Father’s choice of victims. It was horrible and sad. The animal was defenseless and scared. I know the feeling. I wondered if I have that same look, the same eyes. My Father killed it and then skinned it. He scared the animal for a long time and was excited when it peed. I started to cry and he punched me in the stomach and told me that this is pleasure; this is the best of life.
As I watched him kill this poor animal, it came to me; the plan, the desire, the will to kill my parents. I realized that the animal was better than them. That his life was worth more, that monsters should die and the good should prevail. I had a need, a want to see my Mother and Father on this slab, pleading with their eyes for mercy, freedom. They would never get it, just like the cat.
I wonder how much people actually read your "The Diary" series. These stories would perfectly fit horror books and movies.
Good call, switched one tag to horror, thanks!