I'm Not Insane (Heaven Help Me)

“Don’t just don’t,” she spat “I know you want me to be someone I’m not and that’s enough. I have my own problems I’m not bearing yours. Find another scapegoat… dad…” She glared at him one last time before she ran away. She would have had to slap him across the face to make those words sting any more but she didn’t care and he didn’t follow her. He just sat there in a drunken stupor. She ran into her room and slammed the door. She grabbed her sketchbook, pencil, and iPod and jammed her earphones into her ears. She started drawing and she didn’t stop. She didn’t answer when her mother entered and asked her what happened and she didn’t answer when she was called down to dinner. She took her scissors to the photograph of her family and chopped off her own head. She mangled her mother and father and left her sister untouched. Her sister… where was she? “Oh yes, off in college.” She thought “The lucky motherfucker.” She was pulled out of her trance when she heard the yelling above her. “Don’t try to blame her on me! I remember everything! I was just helping you unpack some fucking boxes down in the basement! You’re the one who got horny and as we were fucking you said oh I’m not capable of having another baby! Go ahead and come in me! It’s all your fucking fault…” She had unintentionally curled her fingers into a fist while listening and she felt her anger bubble up inside her, she panicked. She knew what happened when she got angry. She lashed out like a scared animal and hurt other people… she broke things and tried… Her thoughts were cut off by something that made her anger blind her. “Slap!” She knew what had happened and she knew what happened next but she didn’t care. Her anger consumed her and she charged up the stairs. Her mother was trying to run out of the room when she saw her standing in the hallway, her teeth bared and her hands in threatening claws. ” You just made a big mistake… and you have some explaining to do… to our daughter.” Before she knew it she was being pushed into the room where her father stood. “ Get your fucking hands off me!” she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. Her father didn’t seem to notice and launch into “What the fuck are you doing listening to your parents private conversations? You are just a little…” she cut him off before he could say another word. “ Now you are going to fucking listen to me! Yelling at my mother so loud that I can hear it downstairs behind a closed god-damn door is not a conversation!” she barked “You have become nothing but a slovenly drunk who is most definitely /not/ my father!” Her anger was not yet spent and this was the loudest she had ever been to anyone. Her mother tried to touch her and comfort her but she was still blind with anger. She whirled around and pinned her mother to the wall by the throat loosely. “I said don't touch me, bitch!” She let her go and ran through the door. She heard footsteps behind her and then a male voice saying “ Where do you think you're going?” She grabbed her bag stuffed in her wallet, phone, IPod, drawing pad, and pencils before sprinting out of the house and slamming the door behind her. She ran halfway down the street when she heard two gunshots behind her… she stopped dead…her anger was now replaced by an overwhelming fear. She ran again but in an opposite direction, back towards the house. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK” Her thoughts ran wild “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK” She launched herself through the door, up the stairs, and into the room. Her eyes widened with disbelief “no…” was what she should have thought but she didn’t. She didn’t feel sad…she didn’t feel anything new except one thing “serves you right.” She called 911 and calmly told them that her parents were both dead. She told them how she had been halfway down the street when she had heard the gunshots. She told them everything. She waited until she heard the ambulance sirens and she went out to it when it pulled up in front of her house. She was pushed aside as the medics rushed into her house. The police followed after them and told her to stand aside as this was now a crime scene. Her aunt who was her only live relative now picked her up and she was going to have to live with her. “Why did this happen before I could support myself?” she thought. She was surprised by her detachedness to her parents having just died. She guessed that she was still just feeling numb.