literature

An Intro to Charlie

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Literature Text

Parents are evil people. They just are.
That’s what I’ve decided. No matter how hard I try to be decent and civil in my mother’s presence, she just brings out this disturbingly perturbed side of me. It makes me say awful, horrible things, and also instills this urge in me to claw out her eyes. . . . Is that normal? Maybe I suffer from dissociative personality disorder brought on by my inhuman excuse for a parent. I’m 108 per cent positive that she came straight from hell and is Lucifer’s daughter. Seriously. Not even those mice that eat their babies are this cruel to their offspring.
All I did was ask if I can get my bellybutton pierced, and do you know what she did? She laughed and told me to bring the garbage out to the alley. I was already cranky because I was bleeding out my vagina, and she just goes and LAUGHS at me! She could have at least pretended to consider it. But, apparently, that is too much to ask. So, I screamed, “Fine, you marmot monger!” and ran to Cherry Park, a block away from my house.
And that is where I am sitting now, staring at my untied Blue’s Clues shoelaces. They’re too short to tie now because they keep ripping, so I don’t bother anymore. Maybe it’s a sign from God that feet should go naked and free, like Adam and Eve, and not be confined to contraptions of rubber and canvas. They should be free to breathe and be maimed by stray chunks of glass and friendly serpents. Like the rest of mammals on the planet, except dolphins I guess, since they live in the ocean. Are whales mammals? I can never remember.
“Charlie!”
I look up from my shoelaces to see my best companion (besides my pet rabbit, Banana, of course) running through the park towards me.
“What’s the big deal? I got your text message. You said it was an emergency and that you were going to sew your nostrils up to show the world how upset you are…?”
“Lola”—that is her awesome name, unlike the one that my mother gave me simply to create a more difficult life for her one and only child—“the Evil One has gone on another control rampage and refuses to let me poke holes in my body as a symbol of my individuality and unique-ality.”
“You mean like a piercing? That’s a bummer. What did you want to pierce?”
“My bellybutton! That’s not such a big deal! It’s my body to poke holes in! And I should be able to have as many orifices as I want.”
“You’re right. She shouldn’t make you suppress yourself…. Although, I hear bellybutton piercings get nasty and infected and ooze all sorts of crap. But, if you really want to, I could try to do it for you. My friend pierced my ears for me and they turned out okay, once we got the needle out and everything.”
“Really?” I ask. Revenge upon my mother! I don’t need her permission, I was merely asking for her blessing. She can’t control me and my body. “Did it hurt?”
“Um, yeah, but I sort of passed out so I don’t remember much about it,” Lola answers, applying more Burt’s Bees. She is a compulsive chapstick user.
My try at a different style. Please feel free to critique!
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jinxedbyemily's avatar
:clap: I love this! I love the length as well, not too short, but not painfully long. *gasp* Someones going to do peircing at home? Something tells me the outcome might not be pretty... :D