Skinny Like An Angel (cont...)

  "Fuck your shrimp." he says, and goes inside. He locks the door behind him. My mom will unlock it for me soon, but I go and climb in through my bedroom window because it's too damn hot and my shirt's sweaty as hell. I take my shirt off and lay down on my bed, steaming with anger at that beatnik bastard. I told Mom not to marry him cause all he does is watch TV, drink beer, and eat other people's fuckin' shrimp. I told her. I told her 4 years ago that he would eat my shrimp, the bastard. ... Fuck my shrimp? Really, asshole? Remember that time when I made a sandwich one night and when I got done I forgot to put all the shit away and he yelled for me to come put all the shit away and I said I'd come and do it but I forgot again or maybe I did it on purpose cause I hate him so much and then the next day when he came in the kitchen cause he wanted to make himself a sandwich probably just cause I had one, he wants to be like me, he found all the shit still on the counter and the mayonnaise and the bologna were spoiled and they had just been bought so he was real mad? He threw the bologna at me and it was warm and it smelled bad and he slapped me in the head and he told me to get out and don't come back until I had more bologna and mayonnaise. But fuck my shrimp.. That's the kind of bastard he is. Never does anything that's worth to nobody. Just goes around pissing everybody off with his dumb beard and his long fingernails. Fuck him. I wish Mom would kick him out of the house like he does me. Tell him don't come back until he's less of a dickwad, and combs his hair. I bet Mom is tired of him too. She probably just doesn't know how to tell him to leave because she really is a nice lady. I wonder what they're doing now. 

  I crack my bedroom door and look out into the hall. I can see into the TV room and he's not in there. Surprising. I walk out of my room and don't see him in the kitchen. Their bedroom door is closed so they're probably in there watching TV from bed. I want to go in there. It might be locked though. I don't want to check. Just in case I should probably just break through. I go to my closet and grab my samurai sword my friend gave me. I set it against the wall by their door. I go into the kitchen and grab all our steak knives. There's six of them. I might throw them at him, or something else, I'm not sure yet. However I can get him out. 

  I go back over by their door, set the knives on the table that's close by, grab my sword and start trying to break through the door. It's doing some damage but it's really not as effective as in that movie I saw the other week. I guess that was an axe though so it's different. I stab through a couple times and make holes but I can't see myself being able to fit in it. I figure I might as well try the knob just in case. It is open. That's good. It would have taken me a while to get through. I put the sword down and grab my knives. When I get in, Mom is standing beside the bed and he's up on his knees in the bed, trying to wrap his retard brain around what's going on. When he sees all the knives I'm holding he tells my mom to go into the bathroom. I was going to tell her that. The fact that he said it makes me mad. Madder. I throw the first knife at him but I miss his side. He yells out and gets fully out of the bed and throws a pillow at me. It knocks the knives out of one my hands and one of them cuts me on its way out. I look at it for a minute, then I see the prick trying to escape through the sliding door they have in their room that leads to the backyard. I always wanted a sliding door in my room. The door won't open, I bet cause it's grossed out by his fingernails too. I try to throw a knife at his hand but I miss again and it hits the glass door making a noise that I never want to hear again. I try to be more careful this time, because I don't want to hit the door again and also it's my second to last knife. Not counting the ones on the floor. I don't feel like picking those up. By the time I get the knife thrown, he's already out of the door and trying to shut it behind himself probably so it would slow me down trying to follow him. I wouldn't follow him anyways. I just want him out of the house. While he's trying to shut the door my knife hits him straight in his shoulder and sticks in there. He screams out of course and falls to the ground, grabbing the knife and his wound at the same time, as they are one. I look at him lying there on the ground a while and all I can think is, "I'm so fucking hungry."

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