The following short story contains depictions of violence and mild adult situations. This short story has not been rated by The Short Story Board Of The Americas. Reader discretion is advised.
Toby shows me the inside of the fridge, stocked with frozen pizzas. "Yeah, Mom stocked up. I'm not the only on who has missed having you around. My new stuff from Game Fly just came in too, and, anyway: we ALL want you to have a great weekend here."
Then we turned around, and, there was Toby's sister Heather holding a collectible fantasy sword. Toby, possibly seeing alarm in me, pipes up: "Its not like that anymore. She won't bother us much this weekend."
Around the area where Heather was standing you could notice things that had been cut or obviously damaged in some way by the sword; The dining room table itself had scrape lines on it as if it was an old cutting board. On the table one of the frozen pizzas had been cut into even slices while still in the box, so, each slice was now its own triangular cardboard sheath. Presumably that pizza was frozen at the time, but now in a puddle of condensation with a couple of flies hovering around it.
An amputeed plastic doll. A halved frying pan attesting to the weapons sharpness. A pile of mail, all the letters cut in half. A 70s/80s era corded telephone with the receiver cord cut, and, the casing of the phone itself halved, leaving its primitive electronic guts spilled out on display. Heather herself had freshly healing cuts on her legs.
A cat with its tail missing and an adhesive plaster bandage on its backside where a tail would have started, jumps on the table, scares off the flies, and, uses its paw to work one of the pizza slices out of the cardboard.
A quick look around with a more noticing eye reveals that just about everything in Toby's home had been touched with the sword: Scrape lines in the paint of the refrigerator door. Minor freshly healing cuts on Toby. Chunks of wood carved out of the mantle. Minor tears in clothing, including Heathers....and so on.
This is why i wasn't allowed to visit Toby for so long. This is why no one wants to come here. There were assurances that it was no longer a problem, but, its obvious that nothing had actually been done about the Heather problem.
"Oh, hi Brian!" Says Toby's mom as she walks in. She glances at Heather as closing the door, then, addresses me. "Heather is in counseling now, so......its fine. I don't want to go into it, and, embarrass anyone. I just wanted you to know.........its fine. Everything is fine, and, we are glad to have people over again."
Heather speaks: "Mommy, can i play fantasy sword larp with Brian? I think Brian is really cute." On that, she cuts a rip in her shirt that reveals a fair amount of bra strap. She then pricks her index finger and sucks her own blood from it. Feeling such intense fear and arousal at the exact same time may ruin me for life.
I say: "Hey Toby. Lets go into your room and check out those new games." (if they are not already cut to ribbons, i think)
As we move down the hall i can faintly hear Toby's mom giving Heather a mild verbal scolding about cutting around other people. When we are in Toby's room, i shut the door behind me and discretely lock it. "Toby your sister: she is kind of weird, huh?" (trying to lightly broach the subject of everyone's immediate danger)
Toby replies: "You mean Marilyn? What about her?" "Actually i was talking about Heather, and, her fantasy sword." Toby responds with a hint of upset in his voice: "oh........that. Yeah, its a fantasy collectible sword. Its a prop for her stupid role play stuff. Its not like......come on Brian, please." Knowing that this is somehow a losing battle, i graciously switch the subject: "So, what games did you get? Is Splatoon in yet?" Toby responds: "No, its not on official release yet, and, if its alright, i don't want to play the beta anymore. While we are talking about who is weird: you have an odd obsession with that game. That fanfic you posted on YCP was really creepy, as well as highly inaccurate to what little Splatoon canon actually exists." Okay, fine" I say, laughing a bit as i let my guard down: "lets try that new Mortal Kombat"
As we settle in, the doorknob starts to rattle. Heather starts yelling from the other side: "let me in! I want someone to play with" "No, no one wants to play right now!" Toby shouts back.
"LET...ME..INNNNN!" (making a gritted teeth sound on the word "in")
"No, maybe later, okay?" Toby's situation inappropriate casual response.
For a brief moment, it is again calm, but, I cannot be unguarded again. "Toby, I am so sorry. I want to leave. I'm not comfortable with this, I don't see how anyone could be comfortable with this, and, I am sorry."
Toby is dejected, but, understanding: "Okay, maybe, at your place next time?" "Yes, of course, anytime." I say as heading for the door of the room. Just then: Heather starts hacking a hole through the wall connecting Toby's room to the living room. She cuts a swath wide enough to get her head and shoulders through easily, she pokes out through a chaos cloud of broken drywall, wood splinters, and, insulation, and says: "Here's Johnny!"
Many thoughts at once in this moment: I think of how it is odd that someone so young would immediately know to reference that scene from The Shining; a film that is over 30 years old, that in itself references a host of The Tonight Show that retired over 20 years ago. I suppose she could have only recently seen The Shining and/or Johnny Carson, considering that younger people are perfectly capable of finding and watching older media, and, often do.
Maybe when people who were born in the 80s claim that younger people just don't get it, speaking about something inherently retarded such as: Saved By The Bell, or, that Sunny D commercial, they may be bitter about their own aging and lashing out.
It may also be that Heather is just so bat shit crazy that she has absolutely no idea, would just say random things, and, this was just an astounding coincidence.
I also noticed that Heather narrowly missed a line of 14-2 Romex wire that was strapped to the wall frame, and, that if she hit it, she may have received a shock that could have incapacitated her, or at least, slowed her down.
I quickly open Toby's door to make my way out, and, Heather is there blocking the hallway, sword in hand, drywall and insulation bits suck to her hair and clothes.
"Yay, we can play now" she squeaks. She lunges with the sword, and, somehow, i manage to stop the sword with my hands, at the cost of painful cuts in my palms and fingers. Despite the pain i am determined to hold back the blow aimed for my skull.
"Why are you doing this to everyone? Why are you insistent on being cruel to everyone around you just because you can get away with it?" I cry out in pain. These questions would not get response. Heather is too far gone in her own world of make believe to see normal reality.
Heathers grip falters, I let go, the sword hits the Pergo floor with a clink. Maybe it would be wise to grab the weapon, but, I am overwhelmed by the need to flee the situation. I run out of the house, and, down the street.
When a few houses down, and, hopefully at a safe distance, I painfully reach a mobile from my pocket, and, call the police. As I am doing this, Marilyn (Toby's other, older, sister) is approaching from the opposite direction, on her way home.
She runs towards me. "Whats wrong? You look terrible." she says. "I called the fucking sheriff on your bitch sister. I'm pressing charges against her for cutting my hands. I know you guys don't want to do anything about it, and, let her be the queen of the world in her mind, without contesting her, but, she doesn't care about anyone or anything else but, herself and........and.........she is very disturbed, and..........you probably hate me for this. I know we're not supposed to talk about it, or, draw attention."
I sit on the road in frustration and defeat, as the lights and sirens of the ambulance and squad car draw nearer from a distance.
Marilyn kneels down and puts a hand to my shoulder. "No, no. I completely understand. Heather is an absolute psychopath without the capacity of true compassion towards others. Its obvious, but, i think: Toby and my mother choose to ignore it, because, they already countenanced it for so long, it would be embarrassing to them to contradict what they have held to. I agree with you, of course. Just look at your hands."
I reply, now in tears from the ordeal: "I know, right? How will i masturbate, or, drive, or, post nonsensical and poorly written short stories to the YCP forums?"
"Did you at least get any pizza?" Marilyn softening the situation with dark humor on her families twisted denial.
Marilyn rides with me in the ambulance.
I end up in a hospital recovery bed with ridiculously large and restricting bandages on my hands. Marilyn is sitting at my side on an edge of the bed.
"Marilyn, can you draw?" "Why do you ask?" "I want you to draw a hand presenting the middle finger on one of my bandaged hands."
She laughs a little, finds a felt tip permanent marker in her purse, and, proceeds to draw the image on a bandaged hand.
Toby then enters the room. I present the middle finger drawn on the hand to him, and say: " Your going to start defending Heather to me, and, this is what i have to say to that."
Toby replies: " Look. When the cops came in the house, there was a lot of yelling, and, we were mad, but, after they took Heather and left.........well........it calmed down. It calmed down a lot. I think me and Mom forgot what it was like to live without a constant possibility of sword related injuries looming. We talked, and, Mom is going to agree to sign papers to get Heather sectioned, and, ..........she won't have her back until she doesn't want to cut things with fantasy replica swords anymore."
"Your mom may not need to sign anything. I......I.......I am still pressing charges. Even though i know Heather is to into her own world to really understand what she does: I am hurt, and, even though i know it would have probably been the same for anyone in my position, I feel personally wronged."
"Okay, as long as she ends up getting help either way.........and.....well, we stop ignoring things we don't want to face until they become bigger problems."
Toby shows me the inside of the fridge, stocked with frozen pizzas. "Yeah, Mom stocked up. I'm not the only on who has missed having you around. My new stuff from Game Fly just came in too, and, anyway: we ALL want you to have a great weekend here."
Then we turned around, and, there was Toby's sister Heather holding a collectible fantasy sword. Toby, possibly seeing alarm in me, pipes up: "Its not like that anymore. She won't bother us much this weekend."
Around the area where Heather was standing you could notice things that had been cut or obviously damaged in some way by the sword; The dining room table itself had scrape lines on it as if it was an old cutting board. On the table one of the frozen pizzas had been cut into even slices while still in the box, so, each slice was now its own triangular cardboard sheath. Presumably that pizza was frozen at the time, but now in a puddle of condensation with a couple of flies hovering around it.
An amputeed plastic doll. A halved frying pan attesting to the weapons sharpness. A pile of mail, all the letters cut in half. A 70s/80s era corded telephone with the receiver cord cut, and, the casing of the phone itself halved, leaving its primitive electronic guts spilled out on display. Heather herself had freshly healing cuts on her legs.
A cat with its tail missing and an adhesive plaster bandage on its backside where a tail would have started, jumps on the table, scares off the flies, and, uses its paw to work one of the pizza slices out of the cardboard.
A quick look around with a more noticing eye reveals that just about everything in Toby's home had been touched with the sword: Scrape lines in the paint of the refrigerator door. Minor freshly healing cuts on Toby. Chunks of wood carved out of the mantle. Minor tears in clothing, including Heathers....and so on.
This is why i wasn't allowed to visit Toby for so long. This is why no one wants to come here. There were assurances that it was no longer a problem, but, its obvious that nothing had actually been done about the Heather problem.
"Oh, hi Brian!" Says Toby's mom as she walks in. She glances at Heather as closing the door, then, addresses me. "Heather is in counseling now, so......its fine. I don't want to go into it, and, embarrass anyone. I just wanted you to know.........its fine. Everything is fine, and, we are glad to have people over again."
Heather speaks: "Mommy, can i play fantasy sword larp with Brian? I think Brian is really cute." On that, she cuts a rip in her shirt that reveals a fair amount of bra strap. She then pricks her index finger and sucks her own blood from it. Feeling such intense fear and arousal at the exact same time may ruin me for life.
I say: "Hey Toby. Lets go into your room and check out those new games." (if they are not already cut to ribbons, i think)
As we move down the hall i can faintly hear Toby's mom giving Heather a mild verbal scolding about cutting around other people. When we are in Toby's room, i shut the door behind me and discretely lock it. "Toby your sister: she is kind of weird, huh?" (trying to lightly broach the subject of everyone's immediate danger)
Toby replies: "You mean Marilyn? What about her?" "Actually i was talking about Heather, and, her fantasy sword." Toby responds with a hint of upset in his voice: "oh........that. Yeah, its a fantasy collectible sword. Its a prop for her stupid role play stuff. Its not like......come on Brian, please." Knowing that this is somehow a losing battle, i graciously switch the subject: "So, what games did you get? Is Splatoon in yet?" Toby responds: "No, its not on official release yet, and, if its alright, i don't want to play the beta anymore. While we are talking about who is weird: you have an odd obsession with that game. That fanfic you posted on YCP was really creepy, as well as highly inaccurate to what little Splatoon canon actually exists." Okay, fine" I say, laughing a bit as i let my guard down: "lets try that new Mortal Kombat"
As we settle in, the doorknob starts to rattle. Heather starts yelling from the other side: "let me in! I want someone to play with" "No, no one wants to play right now!" Toby shouts back.
"LET...ME..INNNNN!" (making a gritted teeth sound on the word "in")
"No, maybe later, okay?" Toby's situation inappropriate casual response.
For a brief moment, it is again calm, but, I cannot be unguarded again. "Toby, I am so sorry. I want to leave. I'm not comfortable with this, I don't see how anyone could be comfortable with this, and, I am sorry."
Toby is dejected, but, understanding: "Okay, maybe, at your place next time?" "Yes, of course, anytime." I say as heading for the door of the room. Just then: Heather starts hacking a hole through the wall connecting Toby's room to the living room. She cuts a swath wide enough to get her head and shoulders through easily, she pokes out through a chaos cloud of broken drywall, wood splinters, and, insulation, and says: "Here's Johnny!"
Many thoughts at once in this moment: I think of how it is odd that someone so young would immediately know to reference that scene from The Shining; a film that is over 30 years old, that in itself references a host of The Tonight Show that retired over 20 years ago. I suppose she could have only recently seen The Shining and/or Johnny Carson, considering that younger people are perfectly capable of finding and watching older media, and, often do.
Maybe when people who were born in the 80s claim that younger people just don't get it, speaking about something inherently retarded such as: Saved By The Bell, or, that Sunny D commercial, they may be bitter about their own aging and lashing out.
It may also be that Heather is just so bat shit crazy that she has absolutely no idea, would just say random things, and, this was just an astounding coincidence.
I also noticed that Heather narrowly missed a line of 14-2 Romex wire that was strapped to the wall frame, and, that if she hit it, she may have received a shock that could have incapacitated her, or at least, slowed her down.
I quickly open Toby's door to make my way out, and, Heather is there blocking the hallway, sword in hand, drywall and insulation bits suck to her hair and clothes.
"Yay, we can play now" she squeaks. She lunges with the sword, and, somehow, i manage to stop the sword with my hands, at the cost of painful cuts in my palms and fingers. Despite the pain i am determined to hold back the blow aimed for my skull.
"Why are you doing this to everyone? Why are you insistent on being cruel to everyone around you just because you can get away with it?" I cry out in pain. These questions would not get response. Heather is too far gone in her own world of make believe to see normal reality.
Heathers grip falters, I let go, the sword hits the Pergo floor with a clink. Maybe it would be wise to grab the weapon, but, I am overwhelmed by the need to flee the situation. I run out of the house, and, down the street.
When a few houses down, and, hopefully at a safe distance, I painfully reach a mobile from my pocket, and, call the police. As I am doing this, Marilyn (Toby's other, older, sister) is approaching from the opposite direction, on her way home.
She runs towards me. "Whats wrong? You look terrible." she says. "I called the fucking sheriff on your bitch sister. I'm pressing charges against her for cutting my hands. I know you guys don't want to do anything about it, and, let her be the queen of the world in her mind, without contesting her, but, she doesn't care about anyone or anything else but, herself and........and.........she is very disturbed, and..........you probably hate me for this. I know we're not supposed to talk about it, or, draw attention."
I sit on the road in frustration and defeat, as the lights and sirens of the ambulance and squad car draw nearer from a distance.
Marilyn kneels down and puts a hand to my shoulder. "No, no. I completely understand. Heather is an absolute psychopath without the capacity of true compassion towards others. Its obvious, but, i think: Toby and my mother choose to ignore it, because, they already countenanced it for so long, it would be embarrassing to them to contradict what they have held to. I agree with you, of course. Just look at your hands."
I reply, now in tears from the ordeal: "I know, right? How will i masturbate, or, drive, or, post nonsensical and poorly written short stories to the YCP forums?"
"Did you at least get any pizza?" Marilyn softening the situation with dark humor on her families twisted denial.
Marilyn rides with me in the ambulance.
I end up in a hospital recovery bed with ridiculously large and restricting bandages on my hands. Marilyn is sitting at my side on an edge of the bed.
"Marilyn, can you draw?" "Why do you ask?" "I want you to draw a hand presenting the middle finger on one of my bandaged hands."
She laughs a little, finds a felt tip permanent marker in her purse, and, proceeds to draw the image on a bandaged hand.
Toby then enters the room. I present the middle finger drawn on the hand to him, and say: " Your going to start defending Heather to me, and, this is what i have to say to that."
Toby replies: " Look. When the cops came in the house, there was a lot of yelling, and, we were mad, but, after they took Heather and left.........well........it calmed down. It calmed down a lot. I think me and Mom forgot what it was like to live without a constant possibility of sword related injuries looming. We talked, and, Mom is going to agree to sign papers to get Heather sectioned, and, ..........she won't have her back until she doesn't want to cut things with fantasy replica swords anymore."
"Your mom may not need to sign anything. I......I.......I am still pressing charges. Even though i know Heather is to into her own world to really understand what she does: I am hurt, and, even though i know it would have probably been the same for anyone in my position, I feel personally wronged."
"Okay, as long as she ends up getting help either way.........and.....well, we stop ignoring things we don't want to face until they become bigger problems."