my evil doctor oc as a baby thing i wrote
tw; child abuse, animal death
Claire sobbed as her face was shoved to the carpeted floor, getting rug burn all over her cheeks.
She panted as she drawed her knees to her chest, tears wetting the rug below her, she gripped it as she tried to draw herself up from her position on the floor, only to be struck back down.
Her mothers drunk hand swung down, narrowly missing her and striking the back of her knee, the girl yelped in pain.
“You’re just like your god damn father! I can’t stand your attitude, why must you bother me to no end, child!?” She shouted, Claire noted how she slurred her words, and prayed that the ground might swallow her whole, and the lord would take her back.
Why did God have to do this to her? What did she deserve to have such a life?
God must have hated her for something, why else would this all be happening?
She managed to scramble up to her feet, her blonde hair clinging to her cheeks from the tears that still poured from her eyes.
The first thing she saw was the door, and ran for that immediately, letting the summer night's air cool her hot skin.
She looked back, her mother wasn’t there anymore.
She exited through the gate, and for a while it felt like the sound of her footsteps hitting the concrete was the only thing keeping her sane.
She walked far enough she reached the edge of the road, and by there her tears had dried, and she knew no more were coming.
Just across the asphalt was a small playground her community had built for the children a little bit before she was born, she never went much, as she wanted to avoid any ridicule from her peers.
She looked both ways before quickly crossing, and sat on a wooden bench.
It was a miracle the thing didn’t give her any splinters.
She sat and could only think of her mother, how angry she was, how angry she looked, really, something about the way she looked when she was angry made her more afraid than anything.
Her thoughts only stopped when she saw a squirrel, climbing on the metal stairs of the slide.
Her mind just seemed to walk away from her now.
She began to approach the small creature, quiet as ever, and just as it turned to see her, she grabbed it.
Hot rage rushed through her, she squeezed its little body in her own small hands, and frantically looked around.
She grabbed a nearby stick, getting on the ground with the rodent in one hand, and the stick in the other, and she began to beat it.
Her eyes glazed over as its blood soaked the already red mulch that was spread through the play area.
Mothers words rang in the back of her mind, ‘I’m only doing this because I love you.’
But she didn’t love the squirrel, she hated it.
If she hated it then why was she crying?
She only stopped when the squirrel's tiny face was unrecognizable, and she couldn’t feel its heart beat going as fast as her own.
She cursed herself, and momma, and daddy, and God, and the squirrel.
Her head snapped upwards, seeing Heather standing there, looking at her like she had just seen her do something embarrassing even though Claire had just committed a crime.
She assumed she looked like a deer in headlights from how long she held her gaze.
And just like that, she was gone again, just as fast as the blonde girl saw her.
She looked back to the corpse in her hand, and only sobbed as she carried it to the grass, laying it down and ripping the green spikes from the dirt to cover it.
The next day, vultures surrounded her house.
