Annie's Death

Chapter 1: The Faucet

It was a boring, stupid day in Accident, Maryland, where Annie's family had moved to the previous year. Annie had grown quite a bit. She was now seventeen years old, and her arms had finally come in. She had, by now, recovered from the death of her beloved mother, Teresa, and was living happily in a tiny home with her stepfather, José.

Oh, I silly me, I forgot. You probably don't know that Arthur legally changed his name to José about seven months ago. It is still unclear why. 

Also, a new baby had been born into the family. Nobody knew where she came from; she had just magically teleported into the house one day, arriving as a package deal with a nursery, a crib, and pretty much everything a baby needs in order to sustain a happy and healthy life. The baby's name was Connie.

Suddenly, their entire house exploded. They all died.

Bummer.

Now dead, the three moist beings stumbled through the rubble that had once been their short-lived home. Annie tiptoed across a fallen brick and stubbed her toe in one of the baby bricky divots. "Oh my Gosh," she whispered. "That hurt so badly." Her voice became less and less audible as she sank into the rubble and died. Wait, never mind. She was already dead. Haha, plot hole.

Ignore that. Anyway, now that Annie, Arth--José, and Connie were all deceased, they were able to reunite with Teresa! It was such a lovely moment, but also kind of cringe. God frowned down at them for being so lovey-dovey-corny-wormy. José's long, Rapunzel hair wrapped around his, what, ex-wife? Dead ex-wife? I don't know what to call that. Well, his hair wrapped around whatever she was, and she nearly choked to death. Oh wait. Hahahahahaha, got you there. Hahahaha get it? Cause they're already dead? Hahahahaha.

Anyway, now reunited, they all pranced down the street in their ghostly stances and booed at their innocent neighbors. Teresa noticed the new baby about forty-five minutes after she had reunited with her family, and she screamed angrily, immediately stopping in her tracks. She glared at José. "You had a BABY? WITHOUT ME?"

José didn't know what to say. "I--I--I didn't! It just...appeared! I swear!"

"It's true," Annie said calmly.

"Oh," Teresa said, now realizing that she had misunderstood the situation. "Okay. Sorry I snapped at you, Arthur."

"My name isn't Arthur," José growled. Annie punched him awkwardly. God cringed down at the family once more.

Also, in case you're wondering why God is looking down at them, it's because, well, how do I put this...they had, you know, committed countless sins while they were alive, and...well... :(. 

But it was fine, because Satan absolutely adored Annie and her family. He showered them with presents every single day and protected them from harm. 

Annie lied down on the ground and smiled sheepishly into the soil. "Oh, lovely soil," she crooned, stroking the dirt gently with her finger. "I love you so much, I could eat a horse."

Teresa stared at her daughter. "I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"Shut up!" Annie yowled, clambering to her feet. She ran forward and head-butted her mother into Connie. Connie laughed as the pain of Teresa's skull in her esophageal tube tickled her tender legs. 

"Whoever writes this stuff is really weird," José observed thoughtfully. 

"What?" Teresa said, looking over at her ex-husband, her head still impaling the baby. "This STUFF? You mean these masterpieces of stories? That's what you meant, isn't it? Say that that's what you meant!" She pulled her head out of the infant's esophageal tube and craned her neck toward José, grimacing at him like he was a piece of a watermelon rind hidden in the corner of a pawn shop in the middle of the city on a windy day in San Diego.

José's knees bent weirdly, and he found himself wobbling around aimlessly on the ground. "Heehoo," he mumbled.

Annie suddenly picked up Connie and threw her across Hell. Connie landed in a dead tree. She stood up on one of the tree's branches and danced around, smacking her toes away and cackling sadly. Then she began teething.

Meanwhile, José and Teresa were reconciling back on the ground.

"I've always loved you," Teresa told her ex-husband aggressively. She pulled a strand of his extremely long, majestic, Disney princess hair straight out of his scalpy scalp. Then she broke it into three perfectly equal pieces and braided the pieces together. She presented the finished product to José after several awkward minutes of silence. "I made a present for you."

José teared up, overjoyed. "I hate it," he whispered.

"What?" Teresa screeched. "But I made it just for you!"

"I still hate it," José said, shrugging like a cauliflower leaf during cauliflower leaf-picking season. 

Teresa's mouth opened wider than Mercury. Her saliva boiled, like it would on Mercury, and then she meowed. Everybody turned to stare at her. 

"What the heck?" Connie said, raising her voice at Teresa. "You're so weird! Get away from me!"

"Oh my Gosh!" Annie gasped. "Connie's first words!"

José lifted a tree and threw it at the baby, who dodged it smoothly. José then sat down in the dirt and pulled some fire out of his fanny pack. He played with it until his left nostril expanded lovingly. He tossed the fire inside his nostril and smiled as he felt the burning heat singe his nasal cavity. "This is the life," he sighed. A flower blossomed in the spot where Teresa had plucked his hair from earlier, replacing the sad, empty hole. The flower's roots dug into his brain. He loved it.