101 Psychos

#29 - Psycho In Training

Psycho #29 - Psycho In Training -

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Mommy got me a kitty. She told me I could name it anything I wanted.

"Fluffy!" I said.

The fluffy kitty was a birthday present. I turned six years old! Mommy said I was old enough to take care of a kitty. She said it would teach me to be responsible, or whatever that word is.

Problem was, my kitten was always hungry. It would wake me up at night meowing, wanting me to feed it. Mommy said I was over feeding my pet, and put the cat food away. She only brought it out when it was time to feed Fluffy, once a day.

I had to feed Fluffy something else though. The poor thing wouldn't stop crying until I fed it. Its high pitched wailed ate deep into my mind.

I loved my kitty, but the more it made those awful sounds, the more I didn't like my kitty. I wanted to play, but it wanted to eat. Fluffy knew that I would cave in and feed it something, and so it never gave up its cry.

I would feed it anything I could while mommy had her back turned. Cheese, peanut butter, tuna, crackers; the kitten wasn't picky as long as it was getting scraps.

It didn't take long for Fluffy to become attached to human food. The kitty would look at me like I was a bad guy when I gave it normal cat food. I started feeling guilty. Fluffy only wanted to eat good things too.

When mommy cooked she liked to store things in either the microwave or oven. She said she did it so all the food would still be warm when it was time to eat.

The kitty was always under her feet when she cooked. Meowing and begging for the food she was making. I knew it annoyed mommy, but there wasn't much I could do about it.

"Take care of Fluffy before I accidentally step on him." my mommy told me.

Mommy was facing the oven, away from the microwave. I knew she had put some baked potatoes in there, but just hadn't pushed the button yet. Fluffy really liked potatoes.

To get Fluffy out of mommy's way, and to keep him quiet, I opened the microwave and plopped the kitty inside.

Mommy was focused on cooking and didn't hear me open or close the microwave door. I felt pleased that I'd gotten away with feeding Fluffy human food again.

Satisfied that Fluffy was out of our way, I went to play in the living room.

Mommy hadn't known about Fluffys secret feast, and she hit the button on the microwave to cook the potatoes.

When I came back to the kitchen, mommy was looking all over as if she'd lost something. Opening cupboards, peering behind the fridge, and she looked really worried too.

"Mommy, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Looking for your kitten. I heard it meowing as if it were trapped somewhere and scared. When it stopped I assumed he found something to eat. Where did you put him?"

Mommy didn't look up until her last question. My face must have showed how nervous I was as I watched the lite up microwave twirl something inside.

"Sweety, what wrong?" she asked.

Just as she asked me the question, a loud POP noise came from the microwave, and red chunks with matted fur clung to the inside of the windowed door.

My mommy turned and screamed, "Oh my God!" before racing to stop the microwave.

She opened the door, and a nasty, burnt, rotten smell filled the air. Chunks of the deep red mush fell out of the box and landed on the floor while some stringy bits dangled down. A red liquid dripped out of the microwave, pooling onto the counter under it.

Mommy yelled for me not to look, but I couldn't move my eyes away. All that red with Fluffys fur tangled into it; it was pretty. I was mesmerized by the shades of dark red, and decided then that it was my new favorite color. I wanted to touch it, to see what it felt like. Mommy of course wouldn't let me.

Mommy was angry at me over the kittys death for a while, but at least we didn't have to hear him whine anymore.

I however started looking for new ways to see that pretty color again. Normal games just weren't as fun as they use to be. I killed the neighbors little doggy the other day. It was so pretty. They still haven't found him hidden under their porch.

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What did you think of Psycho #29? All comments, critiques, thoughts, & reactions are welcomed.

This is a partially true story. Fluffy didn't really die, my mom saved him ^_^ The neighbors dog wasn't murdered either.

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