I turn on my TV, and it’s set to the news. I hear the news reporter talk about death. It has just been reported that Former President Ronald Reagan has passed away. I never knew a lot about him but I knew he was famous for a lot of questionable things. I listen to more reports as I start cleaning my room. I’m about to redo my room. It was something I had been begging for forever. The wallpaper had been peeling since I was 10, and my floorboards creaked under every step. I open the birthday card that Mum gave me, reading the inscription inside. Happy Birthday to my sweet boy! I hope you have a great 16th!!
While cleaning out my room, I have to go through all the old toys and comics from my childhood. I find a Superman comic from when I was 10. I smile as I remember flipping through the pages, enjoying reading Superman beat up Lex Luthor. I put it away and as I’m digging through the pile I feel something soft. I pull it out and I see Daisy. Daisy was an old doll from the 90’s where you could say something, and Daisy would record it and generate a response. I feel her red hair against my hand, and sniffed it. It still smelled like strawberry. I see her one eye, and remember how I had ripped her other one off by accident. I see her green dress, that you could take off and switch with others. I remember saying that I wanted to marry her, and she said “I want to marry you too!” Back then I thought it was really cool, because I didn’t have many friends growing up, and Daisy changed that. Now that I’m older, I realize that it’s a bit creepy. Who knows what Daisy does with those recordings. I sigh as I throw her into the trash bag.
“Ow!”
I turn around, swearing I heard a voice say something.
“Mom?” I called out.
“I’m downstairs honey!” She called back.
“Are you ok? I heard you say ow!”
“No? Maybe you’re hearing things.” She replied.
“Yeah, ok.” I called back.
I finish going through the toys, memories filling my mind like you would fill a glass with water. I tie up the 4 trash bags, and throw them away. As I throw them in the trash I could of swore I heard a little grunt. I stop and stare at the trash can for a second, then decide it’s probably a racoon or something. I walk back inside and see mum finishing dinner.
“I went through everything mum, now all we need to do is move my bed and stuff, which we can do tomorrow”
“Yeah that’s alright, now sit down! Dinners ready.”
I eagerly sit down as I look what mum cooked. I feel my heart triple as I see her signature dish: Sunday Roast.
“Enjoy!” She says.
As I bite into it, I remember how long it has been since I had a dish this good. I hadn’t had this since I was a child. I finish the whole serving in under 5 minutes
“Well! You sure liked that, didn’t you?” She exclaims.
“That. Was. Amazing! You are the best!” I say while trying to lick the rest of the flavoring.
“Oh good! Now go take a shower! You stink!”
“Ok, fine.” I reply.
I jump in the shower, and turn the water to the hottest it can go. Now, an important detail here is that our bathroom mirror is a one-way, so that means we can look out of it into the front yard, but people outside can’t see into the bathroom. As I’m showering, I hear some rustling. Thinking it’s just my dog Tyson, I ignore it. I’m putting my shampoo on my head, and as I’m doing so I hear Tyson barking. I assume it’s a possum or something, and I ignore it still. He keeps barking, before making a little whimper then he stops. Now I’m concerned, so I get out and look through the window. I don’t see him anywhere, so I just assume Mom let him inside.
I finish my shower, dry myself, and get changed, before heading downstairs.
I see Mom, but I don’t see the dog anywhere?
“Where’s Tyson?” I ask her.
“Outside. Why do you ask?” She replies.
“I just thought you let him in. I’m going to let him in” I say
“Ok, just make sure he doesn’t go on the carpet!”
I open the door and call for him, expecting him to run up and go inside. But he doesn’t.
“Tyson? Where are you?” I call.
I go into the backyard, and as I’m looking for him I trip over something. I get up, and see what I tripped over.
Tyson, his chest ripped open and his heart missing.
“WHAT?! TYSON! NOOO!” I scream while in sobs. “WHO DID THIS? WHO HURT MY BOY?”
Mom comes running out, hearing my sobs.
“What’s wrong hon- OH NO!” She falls to her knees beside me as she sees what I’m looking at.
“NOOOO! WHY WOULD SOMEONE DO THIS?!” She says while sobbing.
I didn’t go into my room for the next few days. I just couldn’t. That’s where Tyson and I spent the most time together. I only remembered my room was there after I started smelling something up there. It wasn’t a good smell either; it was the same smell you get when you leave meat out for too long. The thing is though, this smell was a lot worse. I decide to go up there and see what was causing this smell. As I’m walking up the stairs, I can’t even think of what it could be. I reach my door and open it.
What I see will never leave my brain. Right above my bed, on the wall there was writing, written in blood. And in the middle of it, was what I can only assume to be Tysons missing heart. I struggle to hold in my vomit as I try to read the writing. After a few seconds, I finally make out what it says:
I LOVE YOU.
However, the word love was replaced by Tyson’s heart.
Right before I go to call mom, I hear her scream in sheer horror.
“MOM!” I called out. I jump over all the steps and run into the kitchen where I can’t see her.
“MOM?” I called out, hoping for a response.
There was none. As I’m looking for her, I slip over some liquid. I fall and hit my head and the kitchen tiles. I sit up, my vision is blurry. I see what I slipped over and I actually vomit this time. I see my mother’s body lying there. I’m shouting and swearing in between my sobs. I’m still going as I hear some giggling coming from the lounge room. I stop sobbing for a second to keep listening, and I hear it again. It sounded like when you’re trying to hold in your laughter at a serious moment but you just can’t.
“WHO DID THIS?” I roar. “DON’T BE A COWARD!”
I hear what sounded like a girl start bursting in laughter. I grab the sharpest knife I could find. I march into the lounge room, looking for the person laughing.
“Come out. Right now.” I say, thinking about how I’m gonna kill the person.
I hear soft footsteps coming from behind the couch. The thing that killed Tyson and my mother stepped out.
“D-Daisy?” I whimper.
I see her in front of me, that once innocent smile still there.
“Hi James! Remember me?” She says, her high pitched voice rather different to what I remember.
“This has to be a joke. It can’t be you. You’re just a doll. This is all in my head. It has to be.” I say, trying to think of a logical explanation.
“Oh, but it’s not. Remember when you said you wanted to marry me all those years ago? Well, I’ve been waiting patiently, and now is the perfect time. You’re redoing your room, you can make it into our chapel!” she replies.
What is happening? What is this? Am I insane? Am I in a psych ward? If not, I ought to be there.
All these thoughts rush through my mind as she slowly walks towards me, hand out waiting for me to take it.
Don’t do it. It’s a trap. It’s all in your head. Run. What are you doing? She killed Tyson and Mum! She’s insane!
“Nothing can get in the way of true love!” she replies. It’s only then that I realize she’s been distracting me enough so she can do something. But it’s too late. She jumps on me and crawls all over me, like a spider. I try to grab her but I can’t. As she’s doing whatever she’s doing I start to lose consciousness.
The last thing I remember before falling asleep is my mutter.
“Nothing will get in the way of true love.”
Fifteen or so years later, it’s my wedding anniversary! I buy her the gift I ordered months ago. I open the door to our house and I see her sitting there watching the news. I hear the same reporter I heard as a child, though obviously, she’s much older now.
Bushfires are raging across Queensland, Australia, and they have now reached their 100th death due to this horrible event
I smirk, thankful I live in Oklahoma. My wife sees me in the reflection of the TV and gets up to greet me.
“Happy anniversary honey!” She says to me.
“Happy anniversary!” I say back to her, bending down to greet her. She’s fairly short so this is a common occurrence.
“Your present should be arriving tomorrow.” She says to me.
“That’s ok, I have your present here! Sit down on the couch and I’ll give it back to you!”
We both sit on the couch, he beautiful green dress flowing like the day I met her.
“Here!” I say to her. I open the box and reveal her present.
She starts to tear up as I show her.
“It’s perfect! Sew it on for me?” She replies in tears.
“Of course! What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t?” I reply back.
As I’m sewing on her new eye, I start to feel happy that after 23 years of being half-blind, she will be able to see out of her left eye again. As I’m sewing it in her red hair brushes against my hand.
“I love you so much, James” She says while smiling.
“I love you too, Daisy.”