Let’s come to an understanding. The party’s over. There’s not going to be any more of that electric hard-on music. No more of you and her popping out from behind furniture and messing with me when I’m just trying to answer the door. All that hectic prattle she invented, that baby talk, that’s finished. You want to say something, use English. It works a twatload better than your squeals and chirps and whatever that shit is she does with her cheeks.
I’m not becoming “imperial” or whatever. I’m just trying to get back to the way it was. It was fine. We were always saying how it was horrible, that we rode the horse into the sea. But you know what ? It wasn’t that bad. Not like this.
First there was Daddeath. There was little Bethdeath in the pool — I was the only one home, and I had to fish her out and carry her through the orchard, and you think that was easy, that I wasn’t tearing my skin off while Lena keened and Bryce puked in the garden ? Then that asshole biker laid his motorcycle down in my lane going eighty. I remember his hands fluttering like moth wings, that’s how hard he was trying to stop before I ran him over. So that was the first year.
And then what ? Some bacteria got aggressive. Thousands dead. Every orange in the state gets incinerated. But that’s all it was. It passed, but you can’t let it go. All that other shit you and her have been saying, it blows up easy on everybody’s feed, but it’s not real.
Stop. I’m just trying to catch my breath. How can I hurt you, Donny, when all I do all day is try to avoid pissing you off ? You. Her. Both of you. I don’t know — look at my hands shaking. That started two nights ago and it hasn’t stopped.
She was hungry and you got out of control again. I tried to get away, but the truck wouldn’t start, so I ran out into the orchard, and you and her chased me. The fuck you didn’t, Donny. I tripped and rolled into the irrigation ditch. You ran right past and never saw me. But I saw you. She was on your shoulders, whipping you across the eyes. You couldn’t see but you yelled my name, and when you ran by, I saw your feet, and they were two inches off the ground.
I know you can’t fly, tool. It’s her.