The world keeps turning. Everybody goes on tucking into their BBQ chicken, their bacon strips, their burgers, steaks, etcetera. Everything’s honky dory, until you feel the fork plunging into your own ass. Suddenly sadistic pleasure is distasteful and unjust. There there dear," One more spoonful. There’s a good boy.”. *multiple sigh*
I suspect that decades after that dinner, mum woke up and realized my sister didn’t love her, while I did, so she sent a walkman across the continent to me, and my sister got wind of it and ‘coincidentally’ mum soon became ill with a mysterious ailment swelling her up from her breasts down, killing her within days. Dad reached out to me for the first time when I was 8, and died of "a sudden heart attack” an hour later. His mother, Nan, began asking me to sing for her, and soon stood on a chair in the kitchen when I wasn’t there, to change a light bulb, and the chair came apart underneath her, resulting in a broken hip. She was flown across Canada to Kamloops, and my sister flew out to visit her at her hospital bed, and Nan died just after my sister’s visit. Our canary, I received a compliment from Mum when I was about 9, for bringing out the bird’s personality. Compliments for me from Mum were extremely rare. Soon I came home from school to see that canary in a small basket on the table, a red gash on his skull, unable to hold his head up. It didn’t occur to me at the time to doubt the story that he flew into a clasp that held the living room mirror to the wall, but decades later when my sister did something to f*** me over financially and I dared to question her about it, and she said “If all you want to talk about is money, you can say goodbye to me, your brother in law, our dog, and your nieces.”, I knew that what she really meant was that if I was going to open my eyes and examine her behaviour, I was dead to her, or rather she would prefer me to be dead. This, after her attempts to kill me, 4 times when I was small, and once, no, twice, when we were adults. The lights came on in my head about her at reading her ultimatum on paper, and I looked back at all the things she had done and saw the pattern of people and animals suddenly dying after my sister’s jealousy was roused. It had to have been her who put that bloody gash on our canary’s head.
She’d be very happy to learn that the stress test technician stuck something fatal into my chest a few months ago, finally finishing me off.
She’ll celebrate by picking up McDonald’s food for the family at the drive thru. Happy days.
Please excuse my bitterness. Don’t let me spoil your dinner.