Chapter 1
My mother is a crazy person. Every day, I asked myself is she is even my mother at all. Every time she went outside, she would say that she was going to ‘work’. I knew that she did not have a job, but I still said ‘Alright, see you soon, I love you’, even though I am terrified of her.
I know exactly what she does when she goes outside, around 3 or 4 times a day, because I invented a parent-tacking device to tell me where she was and what she was doing. Most of the time, she would go to the park. Trust me, in the night, when she goes there, she turns into a psychopathic killing machine. She would take out a chainsaw and cut down any tree that she sees. She also kills the birds inside them while doing so. There was no way for them to escape because she put super glue in a water gun and shot it at the trees before the birds went on them.
You are probably wondering what my dad thinks of this behaviour, but he’s dead. That’s right, dead. I am positive that my mom killed him because he told me just yesterday that he cheated on her sister. And of course, she heard it. She hears everything. So when he went to the park in the night for a quick breather, she took out her chainsaw and does what she does best. I will always remember my father, and honestly, it wasn’t even his fault that he cheated on her.
This morning, my mother ran back to my house and slammed the door so hard that you could hear it from another planet. I was in the kitchen posting evidence of her being a serial killer on social media. Nobody believes me because they told me that the blood in the pictures was cranberry sauce. Cranberry sauce? Why would that be flowing in our veins? Maybe she covered the blood with cranberry sauce to make it look like they drowned in it. After all, it was in a café.
Anyways, she ran towards me and put 2 pots of cranberry sauce on the table. ‘Turns out I finally got a job,’ she said, breathing heavily in my face. I was sweating a lot. ‘Cranberry sauce making! Now I want to know what you think of the recipe.’ I was very scared. I just wanted to be at my dad’s funeral already. But then I remembered that my mom locked him in the attic filled with dynamite sticks, so that she could explode him later. I didn’t have a choice. I don’t want to end up like my father and disrespect her ‘cranberry sauce’. So, I said ‘Sure, they sound very delicious!’ I tried to get 2 pieces of bread to make a sandwich to possibly make the taste of it less bad incase something disgusting or poisonous was added, but she grabbed my hands and said ‘It tastes better without the bread~!’ I did not trust her. But I wanted to be with my father, so I took a spoon and ate from one of the pots. I chose the wrong pot. I dropped the spoon. It was the blood of my father. I fainted on the ground.