14. Ode to Madeline: Naivety

Ode to Madeline: Naivety

To recap this awesome, totally normal morning: First, we got Mr. BP! The shittiest, most demonic, asshole-of-assholes Birthday Planner! He wrecked Costco and hypnotized everybody into a daze while proclaiming himself Buddha. And then, another asshat shows up to my door! Meet Brad, the alcoholic!

This day can’t get ANY better! Ahahahahahahaha!

Haha…

“Madeline! Madeline! I feel like I cracked the Da Vinci Code! The Holy Grail’s reeeeaaal!!!! Jesus banged Magdalene!!!!!! Brad banged Madeline!!!! OMG!!!!”

“I’m unhappy, unhappy, and VERY unhappy.”

“YEEEEOOOOWWWWCH!”

My gun stayed fixed at a stunned Brad, staring at the psycho Birthday Planner in bewilderment. I bet he’s shivering in his unwashed pants. He deserved it, really.

“Maddy, wh-what the hell’s going on?” Brad stuttered a bit, but he seemed 2% more sane, and 98% more sober . I guess a pretend-psycho can’t compete with the real deal.

“I’ll give it to you straight, Brad: Get out if you don’t want to end up like that guy. Roger?” My gun felt steadier, but my eyes still stung. For the chill still slithered through my trembling arms.

“Well… uh… like…”

“Shut your mouth and get out. Or you’ll be eating lead for lunch.”

“F-fuck you, bitch! When did you learn black magic and shit? I’mma call the cops on you! And I will t-tell them about your fucked-up shit!” He stammered, taking a step backward on a pebble, which granted him a trip and a fall. On the cold, hard floor.

“Owwww!” He groaned, squeezing his hair to ease the pain. His bear-like stature was always huge, but when he lay there on the floor, moaning and gasping for air, he looked like an ant. I never saw Brad this way, cowering before me. Of course, it was so clear. How did I not notice? He was just a coward. An abuser. A pathetic excuse for a human.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that, please?” I felt the ice holding my feet melting by the minute.

“St-stay back! You m-m-monster!” He stuttered, spreading his palms open, trying to hold me back. Sweat trickled down his eyelids, forcing him to blink rapidly.

“Monster? That’s rich, asshole. Weren’t you about to stab me with that filthy bottle of yours?” I felt a burning sensation flourishing inside my chest. Before I knew it, I was towering over Brad, shotgun aimed at his chest.

“Stay back! I know people! One call and they will m-murder your ass! Stay back!” He swatted the air, hoping it would scare me. He was just pleading for his life.

“Oh? Then I’ll just shoot your phone. Look! It’s hanging out!” I shifted the gun to his pocket.

“No! Don’t—”

“Bang!” My body slightly recoiled from pulling the trigger. Luckily, the bullet pierced his phone dead in the centre. Unluckily, my ears were shot with a piercing ringing.

“Y-you crazy bitch! You could have killed m—”

“Don’t forget: You’re a trespasser. I have the right to drill this next shot in your skull.”

Brad spun around, his eyes wet with a salty mix of sweat and tears. He desperately tried to crawl away from me, while I took in the warm sunshine outside, blinking gently to adjust my eyes. Then, with one eye closed, I lined my shot just an inch ahead of him and pulled the trigger once more.

“Bang!”

“Fuck!” Brad dug one arm deep into the dirt, pivoting at the last second to dodge the bullet. Well, actually, I wouldn’t say “dodge.” Because that was my warning shot.

Unfortunately for Brad, my stomach growled for supper, begging for the next bullet to hit his brain, so the job would be finished.

“Hoooooo… Hooooo… Please… I don’t wanna d-d-d-die!” His pupils were dilating at breakneck speed. He struggled to even breathe; his huffing sounded like a dying deer. Too late. The hunter was now standing before her prey.

“Any last words?” I asked.

“Tch. Fuck! FUCK YOU, MADDY!” Brad cried. “Don’t you EVER forget that it was ME who TOOK your precious VIRGINITY!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Th-that night, I put my SEED inside you, a-and then… THAT BRAT SPAT OUT!”

“Oh, yes. Very perceptive of you,” I lowered my aim down his chest, down and down below, at the target resting between his legs. “Then, perhaps I should get rid of this horrid thing, no?”

“W-wait. W-w-w-w-wait! WAIT! NO! PLEASE!” He begged.

“Why not? ‘It’ started this whole thing, did it not?” I smiled, sunlight reflecting off my teeth. “Such weeds are meant to be cut.”

“NO. DON’T. I’ll DO ANYTHI—”

“Bye.”

My ears were still ringing because of tinnitus, so I couldn’t hear the shot. Or was it adrenaline? Who knows? The chill had disappeared, and all I could feel was a blazing beating, thundering in my heart. And I couldn’t care less about hearing the shot. For it hit its target true and free.

From inside the house, a certain voice of a certain idiot could be heard.

“HOLY SATAN. No… FREAKING… way…” He stepped out into the sun, his jaws opened so wide it seemed unhinged. He planted both hands on his head, shaking in disbelief. “Did you…?”

“Yep.”

He made a loud pop, followed by: “Wow.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Brad’s eyes were half-opened, half-dead. He’s passed out, I think. Streaks of red splurted from below, catching themselves in his eyebrows.

I was jolted by a piercing, screeching noise behind me. In a tick-tock, I swished the gun around, but my eyes were unprepared. A giant speaker, a white table, and a chair stood before me. And the scariest part: Mr. BP was holding a mic.

“HELLOOOOOOO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” He roared, slamming his fist on the table and sending waves of feedback in all directions. “WELCOME BACK TO BIRTHDAY NEWS! I am your host, THE GREEEEAAT BIRTHDAY PLANNER! And to begin today’s session, we have BREAKING NEWS! What happened, you may ask? Well, I heard from various sources that a local CANADIAN WOMAN just SHOT her EX in the COCK and BALLS! Yeah, that’s right. You heard me. SHE SHOT HIM IN THE DIIIIIIIIICK!!! OH MY HEAVENS, this is NOT A JOKE, dear viewers!”

I rolled my eyes. At this point, I couldn’t bother to care.

“Hey, I’m gonna make a call. Don’t make too much noise,” I slogged back inside the house.

“ALRIGHT! That is all the news we have for you today, my DEAREST viewers! And remember! The message we’re sending to your kids today is to always, always: SHOOT PDF FILES in the PENIS! COME BACK NEXT TIME for more BIRTHDAY NEWS!!!!!”

☆☆☆

The police came and went. It wasn’t too special like in the movies. They asked me some questions, which I don’t remember too well. I think they asked about the gun. And I said it was self-defense. Then, they asked about Brad. And I said he assaulted me. Then, they took a look at his broken beer bottle, left lying lifelessly next to his body. And let me go.

But out of all the questions, there was just one I couldn’t answer. Not properly, at least.

“What was your relationship with this ‘Brad’?” They asked.

I gave a half-hearted answer, which went like, “he’s a friend,” but I quickly corrected myself, “he’s an ex.” In all honesty, I shouldn’t have said that; it implied I had more than one ex.

They also questioned Mr. BP. Although I feared he might eat the officers, he didn’t. Surprisingly. He just kept dodging the questions, and begging them to let him be in the force, for he was an “exemplary example of a modern detective, who solved the Da Vinci code…”

Classic.

It took about thirty more minutes before they finally left, taking Brad to the ER. The blaring sirens slowly faded into the distance along with the flashing red and blue of the ambulance. Or police cars. Same difference.

I flumped on a kitchen chair, head rolling sideways on the cold marble of the kitchen table. It was four in the afternoon, and my stomach was screaming for food. So, I popped a pack of Oreos and just started munching. Screw it. I live how I want.

“May I have that delicious bite-sized baked goodness in your hands, please, Lady Madeline?” Mr. BP zoomed out from a corner.

“Why are you speaking like that? Stop. It’s weird. Nom.”

These Oreos are delicious, by the way.

“Oh, you know… My humble self just found myself a brand-new respect for you, Lady Madeline! Hehehehehe…” He rubbed his bony hands together.

“Oh? So now you respect me. But you didn’t before because…?” I crunched on another cookie.

“Well,” he flopped his hands on his hips. “Because I thought you were desperate!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Desperate for happiness! My lady, you look twenty to me. But your kid’s like, what, six? You had her when you were STILL in MIDDLE SCHOOL? Gee, like, use protection, puh-lease! Or are you just desperate for connection?! Hahaha! Teenagers are soooooooo naive!” He made an inappropriate gesture with his fingers.

I could feel rows of thorns inside my skin, slowly prickling up. “I’m really sorry… But could you elaborate, please?” I smiled.

“You just want to be HAPPY, don’t you? Haha! I know you TOO WELL!” He puffed his chest outward. “And Asha is just THE THING to make you HAPPY! Am I right or am I right?”

“You know what?” I stood up from my chair, still smiling. “You ARE right! You are ALWAYS right! But you know… Happiness is not easy to come by. And at this very moment, I’m feeling a little…”

“Of course, I’m righ—Wait…”

“A little unhappy.”

In one measly second, the demon was quivering, thrashing on the ground, scorching brightly white in holy fire.

“OW! OWWW! YEOOOOOOWCH! OOOH! EEEEEEE! AAAAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! HELLLLLPPPPP!!!! I’M SORRRRRYYYYYYY!!!!! PLEEEEEEEEASSSEEEEE!!!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOOPPPPP!!!!”

“I’m unhappy, unhappy, unhappy, and EXTREMELY unhappy,” I grinned, picking up another Oreo.

“AOAOAOAOEOEOEOEOEOEOAOAOAOAOAOAAOE!!!!!!!”

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t ‘desperate,’ ” I mimicked quotation marks.

“THEEEEEN WHAAAATTTTT?????”

“Unhappy.”

“FFUFUUFUFUFUFUOOOFOFOFOFOAAAAA!!!!”

“As much as I like to say I wished for Asha, she was forced into my hand.”

I lifted my dress and crouched down, sitting comfortably on the burning corpse.

“Of course, everyone’s FAVOURITE alcoholic friend, BRAD, was there that night. He was a senior. Twice my age. But we went to the same clubs. Hung out with the same people. Met at the same party. He used to have charms, you know? He used to crack jokes. He used to take me on dates. He used to LOVE me! He used to, at least…”

“...”

“Then, one day, he poured sweet words of honey in my ears. And I listened! Heh. Can you believe it? I was just fourteen! Kids are supposed to be super impressionable! If Brad had told me to drink bleach, I would have done it! Just so I could EARN his kiss on my cheek and he would call me his everlasting LOVE! Ahahahahahahahahaha! It’s funny! You should laugh!”

“...”

“Call it destiny or fate, for God had decided then and there that He would TEST my faith. By granting me the ‘gift’ of MOTHERHOOD. A small, wriggling creature. Inside of me. And the doctor. Yes, the doctor. He told me that I was this close to dying,” I closed two fingers. “The operation could have killed me.”

“...”

“But you know? Chance or fate. Luck or destiny. Everything came out okay! And God, in His ‘everlasting love,’ gave me Asha.”

“...”

“But He also took away my strength! My health! I was puking, like, every two minutes! And my body could have been mistaken for a model skeleton from science class!”

“But you know what? None of those things bothered me as much as YOU, Mr. BP…” I crossed my legs over his skull-head. “I was scared of a possibility. A chance that YOU might return. To put the final nail in my coffin.”

“And lo and behold! You returned.”

“...”

“One can say that God works in truly mysterious ways…” I swallowed the final sweet taste of the Oreo.

“Madeline… Lady Madeline… May I please get up?” He whimpered.

“You were wrong. This world does give you many wonderful things,” I planted both legs on his skull, and rammed it deeper into the gnarled wooden floor. “But you were also right. Because the world will take back in return. And destiny will always come crawling back. Like a filthy, loathsome cockroach. Remind you of anyone?”

“Your tiny, human legs are very, very heavy…” He whined.

I took my time getting up. After stretching my legs and straightening my back, I took a deep breath. And spat at the back of his head. It splattered all over his pathetic, disgraceful, unsightly, parasitic, sorry excuse for a body.

“I really thought I could be happy.”

I turned to the kitchen and walked away, saving my eyes from seeing this disgusting parasite.

“But I guess I was naive, after all.”

☆☆☆