Not Quite Dead

Today I woke up with a hole in my chest. My heart wasn’t broken, but it wasn’t working. The sheets were stained bright red, and my hands looked pale. Come to think of it, my arms did too. And my legs. Looking over at the mirror, I seemed pale as the dead.

“Mum!” I shouted, wondering what she’d have to say. I wondered if it was a joke, if they’d all set me up. It wouldn’t be the first time; when I was six, dad told me that mum was an evil witch and she’d eat us all for tea if I didn’t flush the toilet every time she was in the shower. Unfortunately, she didn’t see the funny side and dad left not long after. Mum came into the room, complaining about my laziness again, switching on the light and rummaging through my drawers, looking for the polo shirt she’d left there. I kept calling her name and she kept ignoring me, but eventually she turned around. I held my breath and started at her irritated, waiting for her laughter.
Nothing came. She just kept staring. I wonder if she’s mad about the sheets. How can she be mad if she set this up? Well, mum always found a way.

I was waiting for the sarcasm to start. I tightened myself up, tried to seem as small as possible, think maybe she’d miss me. I wasn’t expecting screaming. “overreaction” I thought, but got up to calm her anyway.

“I’ll buy new sheets!” I yelled. It seemed like everything had turned upside down. She pranked me, and I was in trouble! I kept trying to pacify her as she screamed, but she didn’t even look at me, just kept staring at the sheets. Was she on drugs? She knew that it would stain! Its fake blood, for Pete’s! After a while, I was getting fed up of being ignored, so I started to shake her. She didn’t move; the cheek of her. After that I decided I’d had enough, and went to sit in the corner until she’d screamed herself out. I didn’t dare sit on the bed; she may just stab me for real, although it seemed I was getting the silent treatment. Still I highly doubted that included my behaviour.

She ran to the bed, after a while, saying something about “my baby!” God woman! Get. A. Grip! Its bed sheets, maybe a mattress! Not a murder! She should really think things through before she does them. I went over to check her sanity, but something on the bed stopped me. Me. I was still laid there, eyes wide open and blank, my hair its usual morning rats-nest, my ratty old pjs still on. Huh?

Looking downward, I saw the red stain. It was kinda huge. It started from the middle of my chest and soaked though, making a pattern almost like a butterfly, only like a butterfly of evil, like a ninja. Moving closer I saw the hole properly.

Something told me I wasn’t going to school today.