Hellspoon

Lost Broccoli

The last words of Amelia Taylor, were not nice ones. Then again it would be rather difficult to muster anything nice to say to the individual who plunged a fork into your stomach-multiple times. You could say Amelia had a difficult life, but then again, doesn't everyone?

She was nobody. A nobody seeking attention- praying to be noticed . Even now she attempted to gain everyone's attention, screaming loudly and passionately. It was a shame really. That she would gain more attention when she was dead than she ever did when she was alive.
Amelia stopped screaming. Thank god. She fell lifelessly on to the hard cement- her eyes still wide open in shock and betrayal. He grunted in satisfaction. He wiped his fork on his sleeves before picking up her limp body and carrying her down the street.

If we were to peak out of your window at this hour-you would most likely assume that a loving partner was carrying his tried or drunk fiancé home. Just like Mrs Anderson did, who was now recollecting her own foolish behaviours when she was young and in love. Oh, how wrong  Mrs Anderson was. He turned right, down a narrow alley walking past dumpsters and howling stray cats. And continued to march towards his destination, until he heard a shrill cry.
"Broccoli!"
His head spun to the noise. A young boy no older than 11, stood in the middle of the road. His strawberry blonde hair had decided defy gravity and stand up at the end. He cupped his hands over his mouth and cried again.
" Broccoli!"
He laid Amy on her side, and threw his jacket over her. And quickly pressed himself against the wall. He'd rather not be seen.
The boy slowly edged closer, his eyes squinting to make out the shapes ahead.
"Broccoli?"
He could see him now. The boy.
His arms were pale an skinny, his eyes seemed too large for his head. Yet he was still squinting. He inched closer.
" Broccoli? Is that you?"
He said nothing.
Another boy-taller, older, grabbed him by the shoulder. He panted.
"Don't run...so..fast, my lungs...are trying to ...kill me!"
Obviously he was very out of breath, and bit out of shape.
The younger boy teared up. "I can't find Broccoli!"
The older boy sighed."stupid dog, told you we should of got a cat."
"cats are mean."
"At least they aren't stupid" he brushed the hair out of his eyes. His hair at least seemed to obey gravity. " Anyway Broccoli didn't run this way, so let's just-Oh hello"
The older boy obviously had better eyes.
He stared at Amy, then looked at him.
He gently leaned of the wall and smiled.
He pressed his index finger to his lips and whispered " the homeless lady is trying to sleep."
Realisation crossed the boys face and he nodded.
"Come on Fergel , let's go home"
Fergel wiped his eyes and nodded. " but what about Broccoli?"
" Broccoli is definitely not there."

The two of them left. The sound of sniffles was growing more distant.
He slowly peeled himself from the wall and collected the corpse of Amy.

He continued to his destination and finally had arrived at a small blue house that had seen better days. He left Amy leaning on the front door with her hands on let lap. Salvia drooled from her skinny lips, was that normal for dead people? He didn't really think so. He stuck a sticky note to her forehead and called his mother.
He hoped Spiders liked the gift. And brunettes.