Crybaby | Melanie Martinez

Sippy Cup

Sobbing. Quiet Sobbing.

That's what I hear at - I check my clock - 3:36 in the morning. Ugh.

But it wasn't sad sobbing, no, it was more worried. I turn on my other side and close my eyes and try to fall back asleep again, to no avail.

Giving up on sleep, I hop out of bed and cautiously make my way down the steps. I don't hear the sobbing anymore, which both worries and relieves me at the same time.

I don't see anything peculiar so far, so I walk towards the kitchen. I see red. It looks like a liquid. Like blood.

I take a few more steps into the kitchen, and nearly scream.

There are white sheets smeared with blood in the middle of the kitchen, only they appear to have something underneath it.

I find a clean spot on the sheets that I can cling onto, and lift up the sheet ever so slightly.

Dad?

I drop the sheet down immediately and tears start to fall from my eyes. I could care less who the other person is, but my dad, he's dead.

I stand up and start backing away from the bodies in horror, only to bump into something. Someone.

Before I can figure out who it is, a cloth is around my mouth and the last thing I remember is falling to the ground.

•••

I wake up in my bed. A dream, perhaps?

Thank god it was just a dream. I try to turn on my side, only to find that I can't. My hands and feet are tied to the bed.

I try to set myself free, but I can't. Then, someone rushes inside. I make it out to be my mother.

"Mommy?" I ask, a shakiness in my voice.

"Hello, baby doll." She starts. You'll forget everything when you wake."

She takes a sippy cup off of my dresser and walks over to me. "Momma?" I ask, my voice very high pitched.

"Darling, shush. Momma would never hurt you, you're okay darling." She says, and connects the tip of the sippy cup to my lips and pours the liquid down my throat, sending me into an immediate sleep.

•••

"Darling? Wake up, wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" I hear my mom chant.

"Yes?" I ask, confused. Then the memories of last night come flooding into my mind.

"Darling, are you okay? Do you remember anything?" She asks frantically.

"W-what do you mean?" I ask, figuring it's better if she doesn't know I remember anything from last night.

"Y-yesterday, you bumped your head pretty hard." She says.

"I don't remember bumping my head, but I do remember everything before that." I force a smile. "I'm alright." I add.

"Thank goodness, um, don't come downstairs for a few hours, you need the rest." She says, and rushes out of my room.

I don't care if that woman is my mother, she deserves to go to jail for murder. Not to mention what she did to me.