My New Best Friend Death, Or So I Hope

"Hey, can I please get a coffee?Black?" I asked the man behind the counter.
It was freezing outside, unbearably freezing. The promised snow from the weatherman had instantly turned to ice, making the roads a disgusting grey safety hazard. The man at the counter pretended to not hear me and began cleaning something.
"Um, hello?" I asked, the place was not that busy, mostly people were inside for the smell and warmth.
The man continued to ignore me.
"Coffee, black. Do you speak English?" I asked, now annoyed.
Still nothing, he had moved onto replacing the sugar in a crusty green container. Now I had gotten the message, he was purposely ignoring me. What a jerk. I felt like knocking him upside the head with a mug. Someone else got the hint too and cut in front of me. Some blond that reminded me of my mother ordered and he instantly got her what she wanted. I fumed with anger. As soon as she left I told the guy,
"Listen jack a** if you want me out of your hair get me my friggin coffee. I wont leave until you get it for me, and I think that is the last thing you want."
I never saw a man make coffee faster. When he handed it to me I paid and stormed out of the place. I was so mad I almost slipped on the ice covering the sidewalk. I growled and headed for home. As I walked I took a sip of the coffee, hoping it would warm me up. Speed had not made up for quality, it tasted like crap. I drank as much as I could to warm me up before I threw the rest away, not wanting to have to taste it. Suddenly, just as I reached the building I spotted a black crow over my head squack at me. A woman near me screamed and dashed away. I smiled and my heart went a flutter. I knew what a black crow meant, death. I wondered who was going to die. Hopefully my mother, or the coffee guy. I laughed happily and watched it fly over to me and land on my shoulder.
"And who are you going to kill today?" I asked the bird, but as I asked I recognized the look in the birds eyes. This was no ordinary crow, it belonged to the woman I had seen on the rooftop. "You're not going to kill anyone..." I sighed, my heart sinking.
The bird squacked at me.
"What?" I asked. "You're not killing me, nu-uh I'm outliving my mother."
It just screetched again. I wasn't going to die.... But i swatted the bird away and kept on walking. I knew better than to mess with death. Death and I were going to be great friends if he/she would ever fulfil my order that I had placed a while ago. The waiting list was endless...

The Severed Head, and The Peed On Sleeper

My stomach grumbled as I looked through my empty fridge. I needed something to eat, and I had been too lazy to go food shopping yesterday. I sighed and shut my barren fridge that only ceased to mock me now. I grabbed my black and red purse adorned with safety pins and chains and headed out. The second I stepped out my door a smell so foul it felt as if someone had punched me in the nose hit me. I gagged and covered my mouth. Then I remembered the best way to get over a terrible smell is to take a big sniff of it so you got used to it. I uncovered my mouth and took in a deep breath, letting the stench fill my nose until it went away. When it was gone and my eyes stopped watering I headed out into the street. There were workers everywhere cleaning up sewer fluid off the streets. The Sewer must have backed up....There were anonymous chunks of unidentifiable objects lying on the street, the source of the horrific odor. Green goop dripped down manholes and sidewalks. Children who came near screamed and did their best to avoid it. Probably didn't want to catch whatever disease was lurking in the mush. I walked past the workers not even bothering to step in between the puddles of sewer back-up and headed to the store. Neither the stench nor the mixture of colors in the puddles could deter my hunger. My boots made a sloshing sound as they squished piles of what was probably molded food products. My sense of smell temporarily returned as I came to a particular man hole. This hole had more of a red shade of globs dripping from it and I soon found out why. A few inches from the hole was a severed head of a man, and it looked newly severed. It had yet to decompose thoroughly and the fleshiest part, such as the eyeballs and lips, were still intact. You could still read the expression on the mans face of complete fear before his attacker ended his life. I stepped closer to him, curious as to who this man was and who had killed him. As I leaned in close a slug of some sort crawled out from his open mouth. I had a sudden moment of revulsion before I laughed and got out my phone to take a picture. I steadied my hand and got it into focus before I snapped the picture. This was probably going to be my new wall paper... I suddenly got the urge to send it to someone. I attached it to a text and began looking thorough my contacts to find a friend to send it to, and that's when it hit me, I didn't have any friends to send it to...my heart sunk into my feet and my previous desire for food vanished. I exited out of my text and put my phone back in my pocket. Then I quickly walked away, head down. I just began walking not even concentrating on where I was going. I didn't care. Misery was a b**** and right now I was feeling it pretty hard. When I finally decided to look up I noticed I was In the graveyard. I felt a little better, dead people were easier to deal with than living people.
"Any of you guys want to see a severed head?" I asked aloud.
I got no response except the whistle of the wind.
"You guys have probably already seen one." I shrugged, heading deeper into the graveyard and between graves.
I suddenly wondered if the guy who was missing his head was here...maybe the fresher graves...? I went to go find some when I spotted someone in front of a grave. Hu...who the hell sleeps here? Well that is, besides me sometimes...wait, was it the body of the man with the missing head...? I peered around, hopeful it was. When i spotted his sleeping face I sighed, no, it was not the body...Then I wondered, would he like to see a picture of a severed guys head? I hesitated in asking him, I already looked Gothic enough to give people concern I didn't need the added fear of asking people if they wanted to see a severed head. I went to go walk in the other direction when I saw a dog run to the man, sniff his crotch then pee on him. I gasped and began laughing so hard it hurt. The man on the ground didn't wake.
"What an idiot..." I laughed before I walked away, my hunger slowly returning.

Hell and Hope

I turned off the TV and set down the remote. Saw VI was just like the other five movies: blood and body parts spewing everywhere. I don't know why I like these movies, why I like watching people being ripped to shreds. Probably because the big boobed blond chick died first. In a sick way I was sure I was picturing the girl as my mother. I wouldnt really want to kill my mother...would I? Would I feel bad if I just stormed into their house and beat her to death with a shovel? Nah to messy... How about just sending a bullet through her skull? This was an interesting thought, but just a thought. Oh well...I got up to get a drink out of my fridge. When I walked over I spotted my mail that I hadn't yet opened. Out of curiosity I sifted through the envelopes. Bills...crap I didn't need...more crap I didn't need...There was only one letter there that truely caught my attention. It was from my mother. the print was impecable and neat, probably written with a ruler and hours spent perfecting the letters. I debated opening it up, but gave into my curiosity and tore open the envelope. Inside was a pamflet for a religious camp designed to "purify your spirit and cleanse your soul of your sins." I screamed in rage and ran to my window, chucking the pamphlet out. "Go @#$% yourself Mom!" I screamed as the paper flew throught the air and fluttered to the ground.
I needed to get out, now. I grabbed my keys and left my room slamming the door behind me. I was heading up to the rooftop to clear my head. I stormed down the hallway. I got many weird looks from people I passed, including this man who gave me a smile that was scary enough to send chills down my spine...The others looked me up and down like I was some kind of freak for the way I wanted to dress. Screw them, I didnt need their judgment. I went up the stairs and onto the roof top garden. I closed my eyes and breathed in the semi fresh air and waited for all the thoughts to clear from my head. A bird screech suddenly broke my meditation. I opened my eyes to see an older looking woman looking over the buildings edge with a black crow on her shoulder. Interesting...I wondered if it was her pet. The lady turned around after the bird schreeched at her again. Oh boy, here it comes. She's either going to scream and run away, yell at me to not be such a freak, give me a weird look, or quickly turn back around and pretend I'm not there. Instead, she smiled at me and gave a quick wave. A flutter of happiness ran through my body. She hadn't looked at me like I was from Hell or that I needed to be different. She just smiled at me, like I was a person... I hadnt realized how much I needed that until this woman had done just that. I smiled back and waved. She nodded and then turned back to the scenery. If only my real mother looked at me like that, instead of the way everyone else looked at me. This woman, whoever she was, had made my day. I sighed and sat onto the edge of the ledge. Maybe there was hope for humanity after all...

Phone Call

I hung up the phone with an audible sigh. I hated the weekly call from my parents. They wanted nothing more than to try to convince me to move back in with them, and convert back to their plastic society. My parents are the perfect life-sized versions of Ken and Barbie; perfect hair, perfect clothes, not a thing out of place. Society told them to conform a certain way and they did - to a T. Years of brain washing by corporations and television had rotted their easily malleable brains. Nothing could be out of the ordinary for them. Even their last name was completely ordinary, Smith. How much more generic could you get? I unfortunately used to be just like them, blond, perky and always full of smiles. I did exactly what they told me and never strayed. And why not? It was fun to be perfect. NOT! I don't remember what exactly made me decide to break from the vicious cycle of perfection, perhaps it was my wardrobe of pinks, beiges, and powder blues that did it. Or the mandatory clean room with pink walls and frills galore, but whatever it was, I'm glad I broke ranks. I didn't change my ways in one fell swoop however. It took time. Mostly because at that point I was still slight brainwashed myself. It began with changing my name. Not legally; my parents wouldn't let me. My real name is, well, Kitty. Yes Kitty, like a cat. The girliest name on the face of the planet. A name I despise with all my being. I wish I could murder the name Kitty. Stab it with a knife and watch it bleed then rip out its guts while it screams in agony. Anyway, I made people call me "Crimson." It sounded darker and cooler. Well hell anything was better than Kitty. My parents had a fit about me wanting to change my name, but did I care? Not at all. The parents still call me Kitty, convinced I will someday go out of my right mind and enjoy that hideous name again. After my name change, I dyed my hair black, and got my ears double pierced- practically a sin in my family. Then I moved on to a stud in the ear cartilage, an even bigger sin for which I was severely punished. Then a lip ring. Oh yeah, I was bad ass, to them. My clothes went from pink to red, and from beige to black. My parents threatened to send me to military school for my "demoralizing behavior." At that moment I made it my mission in life to do everything in my power to piss off my parents, go against the grain, and just flat out drive them crazy. If they didn't like it, I did it. After high school I moved out here to Watershed Heights. It was far from the 'green lawned', identical houses my parents lived by, and I loved it.