In the morning she jerked him off and had him cum in the cups of her bra and then he watched as she put it on and went about the rest of her day like that
She worked as an elementary school teacher
believed in the horoscope
and witchcraft
and aliens
and demons
and told the students in her class that her dead husband reincarnated into her dog and every morning she took his seed to hold in her bosom for good luck
It definitely worked because she got a raise in the next few weeks
The house doesn't feel like home, mother. Not since you left for the other world after father left for another house from outside town
Now there's just me here. And my older brother who is younger than me mentally and will remain so for the rest of his life He still hears whispers coming from every dark corner of the house and because of this our electric bill is enormous
I can no longer take this
I'm not strong enough
I'm not willing enough
This cross is too damn heavy. It's breaking my back, breaking my soul
I want to get a better job and eventually a car and a wife and start a family
I can't do that while taking care of my troubled brother
I quit.
Tonight I will make his nightmares come true The electricity will go out and suddenly the whispers that come from the dark will become voices and then screams and they'll get him
A rabbit can die if it gets too scared. I believe this is also valid for my troubled brother. I'll only make sure to leave a few sharp objects near him
I know he'll do it
And I'm sorry that he'll do it but there's no other way to break this shackle
One day I'll debate the issue with you, mother But for now you can't argue with me
these days a lot of people call themselves empaths
They claim to be able to feel what other people are feeling and suffer with them
"I cheated on my boyfriend with his brother," some girl said, “and being the empath that I am I started crying along with him when he found out. It's hard being such an empath."
And there was the guy who got into a bar brawl and knocked another guy's teeth out and held a hand to his own mouth and made pain noises
I guess he was an empath too
If you have a social media account and don't describe yourself as an empath people will think you're some kind of monster, a psychopath, they'll compare you with Hitler
Yeah, it's a good reason not to use social media
If you actually needed another
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the ashtray was looking more and more like a sick hedgehog
and her yellowed fingers added one more quill to it
she sat back in her chair
work wasn't in the best of stages lately and her office looked like a junkie's trailer. You could scrape the nicotine off the walls. In fact, she would get nicotine under her nails if she just scratched her skin anywhere
But otherwise she was a beauty and that was a problem. Beautiful women have the worst luck in marriages
The husband left and the two girls went with him They were sick and tired of her habit to consume more cigarette smoke than oxygen
And drinking was also a problem though not nearly as big
The worst drinking has ever done to her was to make her lose the driving license which she never bothered to take back
The real problem was, as always, a lack of money. If the damn phone didn't ring soon she would have to kill someone for a pack of cigarettes
Assuming she could still kill someone with her body rotting from the inside. She was fine with breast cancer but now lung cancer joined too and it was by far nastier
Still that was all right It doesn't take a healthy body to pull a trigger
And speaking of triggers She opened a drawer in her desk took out the gun studied it
Not loaded
She browsed through the drawer
Only one bullet left. One single bullet. These things cost money too
Damn it
But it's like they said back in the mercenary camp The last bullet is always preserved to be used on the self
She loaded the bullet into the gun
A life lived well is one lived without regrets and without ever asking for mercy or feeling sorry for yourself
At 39 she had that. There was nothing else to be taken away from it
She put the gun to her temple
Smiled
"Except for a final smoke."
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Daydreaming as a profession 