My skinny mama, and my daddy, the philosopher, came home late one night.  They had left me with Carrie Anne from across the street.  She was my favorite baby sitter.  She was the prettiest and the nicest, too.  She was never mean to me so I liked her a lot.  Daddy was always the quiet one.  His eyes were warm like chocolate, if you looked in them too long you’d drown and you’d want to stay forever.  My daddy was the man.  Mama was tiny and wild and crazy.  She was always jumpy and excited.  That night when they came home, daddy stopped the car like always.  She was screaming and singing with her legs sticking out the window.  She would throw the door open and I would watch her dance around the roses she planted in the garden.  This was like always except tonight it was too late and I might get in trouble if I ran out to join her so I waited inside with Carrie Anne.  We were baking brownies.  I was going to decorate mine with sprinkles even though she said chocolate chips would be better.  Like always, daddy left his seat and walked to the door with his Bible clenched to his chest.  He usually looked sad because he was remembering the time when he was an angel with wings.  He was remembering when he could fly and look down on everyone and give them his blessings.  When he had wings and power and he wasn’t just a tiny old man was a long time ago.  Now he is here and that time was gone and lost.

Mama came in first.  She was frantic and shaky. She was always high strung and anxious.  She was the type that could never be still.  One moment she would be screaming and dancing, the next she would be in tears, then she would be angry, and sometimes on rare occasions she would just be nice.   

“You have to go now Carrie Anne.  Now! Now! Now!” She said.

“awww.” Carrie Anne squealed scooping me into her arms.   Her lip gloss smelled like melons.  It was peachy pink.  “But we were making brownies.”

“Now before daddy comes in” Mama said.  “Here. Here. Here is your money so go, now.”

“You have to go now.”  Mama was getting agitated.  She had that look in her eyes and her teeth began to clench.

“WOW!”  Carrie Anne exclaimed counting her money.  “$500 are you sure, this is way more than you said, are you sure?”

“NOW” Mama screamed.

“Ok. Ok. Ok.”  Carrie Anne said.

 I watched her leave our kitchen and run across the street to her own house.  Daddy carried something wrapped in a blanket from the car and laid it at mama’s feet.  I wondered if it was another dog.  I would love to have another dog even if it wasn’t a puppy.

“She’s sleep.” Daddy said.  He took his Bible from under his arm and brushed invisible dust from the cover and then returned it to its original position against his chest.  My dad was the best daddy ever.  He was smart, fun, and handsome.

Mama uncovered the thing under the blanket.  “She looks so sweet and innocent” she whispered.

To me, she was just a dirty little girl who needed a bath.  I wanted to know what she was doing in my house.  Was I going to have to share my daddy and my mama with her, the thing my daddy brought in wrapped in a blanket?  “Who is she mama?”  I asked.  She better not be staying here I added in my head.  Please take her back to where she came from.  I liked being the only child.  When mama was home and she was being nice, I got all of her love.

“It’s a baby girl God gave to us when we were driving down the road.”  Mama answered.  Mama was beautiful.  She looked just like the Virgin Mary.  She had big innocent eyes and a small mouth that was always too weak to smile.

“Is that where I came from, too?” I asked.

Mama  and daddy looked at each other.  “Oh no” Mama answered.  “Where you came from is much more special.”  She lay her had against the Bible clenched to daddy’s chest. “Our souls,” she continued “came together one night and made your soul.  Your soul was small and round at first and too weak to live on its own so my soul fed your soul until it grew and was ready to live on its own.”  Mama’s mouth formed her version of a smile and she looked a t the girl daddy had brought in from the car.  “That“ she said, “was on the side of the road and God put it there for us to take”

“you said she came from God.”  I said.

“yes. Like a piece of fruit or  a puppy came from God.” Mama smiled.

“Did I come from God?”  I asked.  I wanted to be more special than the girl.  I knew I probably was because she was dirty and mama called her an it.  I wanted to hear them say I was more special than that thing daddy brought in the house.  I just wanted to hear it.

Mama looked at daddy and thought for a minute.

“When Man fell, God left him.” Daddy started.  “God, the One that once lived within us, left us alone to grow without Him.  He shut heaven away from our eyes so that we can’t see it anymore.  He took heaven away from Earth and now the Earth has grown alone. Heaven and Earth are no longer together and neither is God and man.   No, God did not make you or us.  We came from the Earth”

“But, “ I said. “I thought God was good and He made me and everything and...”

Daddy’s expression didn’t change but he was angry.  “God made your body but not your soul.  Your soul is made from your experience on Earth and God has no control over that.  Only you can control your experience on Earth.  If you are strong you make your own soul.  Only weak people allow God and others to make their souls.  They are nothing but puppet.”  He looked at me “are you a puppet?  You are not a puppet.  Don’t be a puppet.”

“like that, like her.”  Mama frowned at the dirty girl.

“So I shouldn’t obey God or anyone?”  I asked because I was confused.  I really only wanted to be sure that my parents loved me and not that little girl.  I thought if she were clean, she was probably prettier than I was.  Maybe she was smarter, too.  Maybe she understood God better since God made her for them, but then why would he just leave her on the side of the road if she was special enough for Him to make special.

“You don’t get it do you?”  Daddy asked me.

I shook my head because really I didn’t.  It made no sense.  The rules changed sometimes I guess.  I think I am just to young to understand yet.  When I was old and smart like my parents I would understand because I was big.

“You have to know and understand God so you can get into His mind and understand his strengths and weaknesses so that way you can replace the God that is missing in your heart because he went away and you won’t need him anymore.  Everyone wants to be God.  Everyone wants to rule the world.  Everyone wants to be the King.  Everyone wants to be a Rock Star.  Everyone wants to live forever.”  He held his Bible tighter.  “That’s the human condition my darling child.  You have to destroy everything that’s in your way to become the one and only.  The one that is worshipped and adored.  Feared and hated.  The one that leads the followers and the blind.  The one that makes people forget their senses.  The ones that are above everything.  And We hope you never forget what being made by God means.

I didn’t understand at all, but my daddy was handsome.  My daddy was the man.

Daddy kneeled over the sleeping girl.  I thought he better not kiss her.  She was dirty and gross and my daddy loved me.  Mama was already bent over her. She had tears in her eyes.

“She has no destiny.”  Mama said.

“She is going to die.”  Daddy said.

“Die?”  I asked.  Little girls didn’t die.  Old people died.  Puppies and gold fish died, but never ever little girls.  “Is she sick?” I asked.

“No, Darling.”  Mama answered.  “Yes, she is sick.”  Mama changed her mind.  “She is very sick.  She just doesn’t know how sick she is.”

“and she is going to die?” I asked.  “Is that why God gave her to y’all?  To make her better?”

“yes, it is terribly tragic”  Mama said. “but, she is only a little girl.”

“I am a little girl, too.”  I said.  “What if I get sick and I die.”

Mama stroked the girls hair and looked at the ceiling.  She didn’t  look at me at all.  “Then my darling love Kelly, you will join her in Heaven.”

“You do know what they do to little girls in heaven don’t you?”  The little girl was awake.  I don’t know if she was talking to me or to her.  “Do you know that God likes to impregnate little girls and then kill their baby boys?  It’s because he can’t handle a goddess or a real woman.  He needs a weak little mind that he can shape and mold. Oh I am sure mommy and daddy told you life is full of ice cream, pink booboo bears, carnival rides, butterflies and strawberry fields.  Then the truth comes and you walk outside one day and the sun is not there.  The sky is dark and cloudy and there is lightening crashing in your ears.  And your thinking why? But the truth is its always been there, but everyone was protecting you.  Everything you knew just blows away.” 

The little girl wasn’t listening to her.  Her eyes were staring at me.  I don’t know why, but I kind of wanted her to stop.  I guess I was the most familiar and comforting thing.  I was a little girl, too.  I wanted her to stop looking at me.  She was making my mama crazy.  I liked it when mama was nice.

Mama continued. “Well, mama brings you in from the storm and she will tell you that she will protect you even though she didn’t.  She will tell you that there are no monsters even though you can see them with your own eyes.  She tells you that the sun will come back.  There will be new carnivals, but it happens again and again and again and again.  The sun never comes back and then your mother dies and you are too stupid to know that when it rains, carry an umbrella and you won’t get wet because your mother always just told you not to play in the rain.”

“A smart person would have ran.” Daddy said to the little girl. “a smart person would have not trusted no one but themselves.”

“Stupid girl.” Mama laughed.  “ ‘Oh dear child what’s the matter?  This man killed your mama?  Oh he did? This man came in and you all were sleeping and you heard your mama screaming so you went to see what was wrong and this man was stabbing her and then he bit her face off?  Goodness. And tomorrow is your birthday. And mama was going to have a big party with green balloons.”  Mama was mocking the little girl who might have been crying on the inside.  Mama said people did that when the tears wouldn’t come.  She must have been a bad little girl because mama didn’t like bad little girls and she was always mean to them.

“Oh, come with me little girl, I will help you.” Mama laughed “ and then we took you to that place with the little old lady that no one cares about and she never sees her children, grandchildren, or great grandchildren and all her friends are dead.  Then you cried when I shot her.”  Mama laughed.  “I shot her to put her out of her misery.  Really, it was best for everyone.  If I hadn’t killed her, she would have died because god wanted her to die.  Wouldn’t you hate God if he just decided it was your time to die and you weren’t ready?  Wouldn’t you despise God for cutting your dreams and your life short?  I did her a favor, she died and didn’t have to be miserable anymore and no one would hate God because God didn’t kill her, I did.  We do God’s work dear.  We let people keep on loving God.  My killing her had nothing to do with the will of God.” 

The little girl was whispering Mama now.  I don’t know why.  Only we could hear her.  Besides, I think my mama said that her mama was dead, but maybe she only meant her spirit was dead.  This little girl didn’t have a mama.  My mama and daddy were given her by God.  That was fine, as long as she wasn’t more specialer than me.

She kept looking at me so I asked her,  “what’s your name?”  She kept whimpering and didn’t answer.  My name is Kelly.  What’s yours?”

“Did they kill your mama and daddy, too? And took you away, too? And brought you here?”

She was older than I was.  I could see that now.  She was a big girl.  I was a little less jealous.

“it was too late. There was that man biting her face.”  And then she started crying again.

I looked at my daddy who was God, Zeus, Jesus, and Gandhi all rolled into one beautiful man.  Clearly, she was mistaken.  He was so good.  Light shone from his bald head and his hands always held his Bible.  His Bible had a white leather cover trimmed in gold.  His smile and eyes made me feel warm and safe.  He wasn’t a monster and he didn’t eat people’s faces.

Do you know how it feels when a child finds out that it is God that causes things to die?  Even the puppies they loved forever and lady bugs that they caught with their own tiny hands.  God killed Jesus that loved the little children, all the children of the world.  There I was standing there with my daddy dwarfing me.  He was a giant.  He was an angel with brown eyes and this girl had dirty hair.  She had dirty hands a dirty face and dirty legs.  My daddy bought me flowers every morning and placed them on my pillow.  I would pretend like I was sleeping and I think he knew it.  We’d walk hand in hand through the garden and make crowns out of the flowers that we would find. When the thunder outside would scare me he would pick me up in his giant angel arms and say, “it’s OK, there are just more angels falling.”  And this girl laying on our floor in her own blanket with her knees pressed into her chest was a liar.  One of her purple shoes was missing,  She was wearing red socks and green shorts.  She couldn’t even match her clothes right.  Her shirt was missing.  At one time her hair was in two pony tails, but now there was only one.  Half her hair was every where. She was whimpering and her face was dirty; the filthy dirty liar. 

Mama had slipped away to bake cookies.  My daddy was standing watch because she was too sick and was going to die soon.  I was remembering when my daddy told me what clouds felt like.  There was one time he took away the village of monster that lived under my bed.  That was my dad.  I loved him.

There was a saw.  A hand saw that they sometimes used to cut wood.  It was on the table.  Daddy had taken the pink ribbons from my hair to tie her arms.  She was almost screaming now and she kept looking to me for help or something.  I don’t even know why they brought her here.  He didn’t tie her legs, but she still didn’t run.  She just kicked her legs.

Daddy put the saw to her neck.  What was he doing?  At first he touched the saw to her neck softly.  She was too dehydrated to cry.  Her tongue was dry and sticky.  I think she tried to swallow, but there was blood where her throat used to be. He moved the saw harder and faster against her skin until she lost her head.  He had his fingers tangled in her hair and he pulled and pulled until her head popped off.  Her hair still tangled in her fingers he bought her head closer to his eyes and then he laughed.

When mama came she dropped the tray of cookies on the floor.  She was mad.  “look what you’ve done.” She yelled.  I thought it was because we were painting red daisies on the wall, but it wasn’t.  It was something else.

She narrowed her eyes and shook her finger at him.  “You started without me.” She paused.  “I wanted to kill her.  She was mine.  I found her in the room.  You didn’t even know she was there.” Mama had tears in her eyes and they ran down her face.  “I baked cookies for you and you had to be bad. Didn’t your mother ever tell you ladies first?  Ladies first.  Ladies first.  I am a lady.”

I stood there and looked at that body.  They could put the head back on the little girl.  I hoped that my head never popped off.  I hope I didn’t get sick with what she had.  If mama couldn’t fix her head, I would be sad for real.

“do you want to help me hide the head?” daddy asked mama.  Mama smiled and they left.  She left the tray of cookies where it fell.  I remember eating all of the cookies.  Every single one of the cookies.  I wished I had some milk to wash them down with.

Carrie Anne came back.  She screamed.  Mama and daddy didn’t tell her to come over, but she came anyway when she saw them leave.

“Oh” I said with my mouth full of cookies, “her head popped off.” I wiped cookie crumbs from my lips. “It’s a shame isn’t it she was pretty.  Do you want a cookie?”

She looked around the room grasping for hair.  She shouldn’t have been screaming so loudly.  She backed away from me.

“Are you crazy kid?”  she asked. “Who did this?”

She had started to leave but mama came back before…

Before and before she could scream and say what’s that daddy shot her.  Daddy could shoot real good.  First he shot her in the head to stop the screaming.  I am sure she was dead, too.  Still the shot her in the mouth, then in the nipples, and in both her eyes.  There was so much blood.

I remember falling.  Crashing to the floor in the blood of too dead girls.  I thought it was raining outside.  I felt warm soft drops of rain water all over my body.  I remember time not moving and my eyes taking pictures.  Snap shots.  None of them mean anything.  My daddy’s eyes.  My mama put on pink lipstick.  The sun in the sky and trees.  I wanted to feel the rain again.

I thought I felt my mother’s arms.  I thought I felt my mother’s kiss.  I opened my eyes to see her smile, her version of a smile, but there was nothing.  I was laying on a soft cream leather couch and the sun on my face through the window’s of my grandma’s house.  My face was clean and there was no blood.  I thought the grass was less green than before but maybe it was just in my head.  Maybe everything that happened was just in my head.  Maybe she was a doll and daddy popped her head off.  Maybe it didn’t matter because she was just a doll that they found because God wanted them to find her.  The kids outside were still playing on the less green grass so it must have just been in my head.

I was going through some old things today because I decided to take a break.  I found some of the things I wrote when I was in high school.  They were so bad that I couldn't get through them.  I had to stop or risk ocular herpes and severe intellectual degeneration.  I could tell exactly who I was copying in each of the stories I glanced at or unfortunately read.  If I weren't so narcissistic, I would post one.  However, I refuse to contribute to the dumbifying of Xanga and America.  You can tell when I stopped trying and my writing became my own.  I am going to post something I wrote some time this week.

For now, I have to go.  I would type more but I don't have wireless and right now the computer is behind the crib in the living b/c my husband is too lazy to disaasemble it and take it upstairs.  He is also too lazy to put up his boxes and organize his stuff.  We've been here for more than a month.  He has  ignored my threats long enough.  His stuff is getting organized by me.  Since I am a tosser he should have put it up.  I( am gone John hates it over here and he won't stay on the other side of the crib b/c he can't see me.