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mOnStErThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Max Booth III | |
| Tuesday, 27 May 2008 | |
mOnStEr I sit in my favorite chair in my house. I am clutching a brown double barrel shotgun. My face is full of sweat and my eyes are filled with rage. My mind is saying one thing and one thing only; REVENGE. Well, before I go any further I guess I should tell you my story, huh? And why I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do. It wont take up too much of your time so dont worry about that. So as a old lady with gray hair might say, "C'mon, sit down and have a spell with me." It all started on one hot summer day three years ago... *********
It was just like any other day. I woke up, had breakfast with my beautiful loving family, and went to work at the mill. My wife, Sara, was a stay at home mother. In case you're wondering I was the one who came up with that decision. Sara wanted to continue being a nurse. But no siree, I wouldn't have it. Our magnificent daughter was four year old Madison, or Maddy, as I liked to call her. My wife had this problem, you see. She was addictive to gambling. At the casino, the boat. It was like any other drug, once you start you cant stop. You'll say you're just gonna play fifty in the slots but ten hours later you say fifty more. So, on that miserable day in the blazing hot heat of the summer, Sara had left Madison at home while she went to the boat. Sara thought it would be okay because she had instructed our daughter to stay in the house and not to leave for anything. Not even a fire (wasn't that stupid?). But she was four years old and she wasn't really a good listener. What four year old is, right? About a half hour after Sara left; my dear Madison decided she wanted to jump rope. And it was against the rules to jump rope inside. So she went outside in the front yard. I always thought it was funny she obeyed the rule about jump roping but broke the rule about going outside. If only she would have broke the first rule instead of the last. It would have been okay, Maddy. I wouldn't have been mad, I promise you. But of course, Sara got carried away with the slots and forgot all about our daughter. Sweaty, beat, and ready for a nice shower and a hot home made meal, I left the mill. When I got home my wife and Madison were missing. I immediately called my wife's cell and she answered. "Yeah?" she said, on the other line of the phone. I could clearly hear the sounds of jackpots in the background. "Sara? Where the hell are you?" "Oh my god you're all ready home from work!" "What's going on, Sara?" "Umm...well...I decided to go to the boat just for a bit and I must have got carried away. Sorry." "Well, where's Maddy?" "You mean she isn't there?" "Hold on," I said, and searched the house. I went back to the phone and said; "Nope, no sign of her. Did you tell her to stay in the house?" "Yeah, yeah!" "Why the hell did you have to go to that goddamn casino, Sara? Hold on, I'll go check in the backyard." There was no sight of her in the backyard. No sight of her anywhere except for the lonely red jump robe left on the empty sidewalk. Two days later the police found Madison's lifeless corpse in the forest behind my house. She was raped and strangled to death. A neighbor told the police that she saw a man in an UPS uniform approach her and lead her in the backyard. When asked why she didn't report anything, the neighbor simply replied "I was quite busy at the time". If only she would have taken a minute out of her ‘busy' life my daughter would still be alive. Believe me, the thought of killing that ***** has entered my mind more than once. A week later the police arrested a thirty year old man named Robert Burton for the rape and murder of Madison Gardner. He was a former driver for UPS and a schizophrenic. His fingerprints were found all over Maddy's skin. He was sentenced to five years in the Indiana State Prison, but he got out in three for good behavior. Some mighty good justice there, huh? Ain't this such a swell system? A month later Sara slit her own wrists in the bathtub. She didn't leave a suicide note but I knew she did it because she couldn't take all the guilt of our daughter's death. I had no love for her since Maddy's death anyways. I felt nothing for her. She was just as guilty as Robert Burton, the monster of Indiana.
********* So, that is my story so far. It didn't take long to tell, but boy, did it fell long to live. Now, as I hold the double barrel shotgun; I think about killing this monster, Robert Burton. I have for three LONG years now, and I think I'm finally gonna do it. Yeah, I am. So I stand up and head for the door. I open it and walk down the steps to my basement. I flip on the light switch and look at the sonofabitch who killed my daughter and my wife. Robert Burton is tied up to a chair in the middle of the room. He has an awful large bump on his head from where I hit him with the crowbar. "Please..." he begs. "Please what?" I tease, but I don't smile. None of this is funny to me. This is revenge. And revenge is a dish best served cold, not served with a side of laughter. "Please don't kill me. I'm sorry! I did serve my time for it now please let me go." "Wait, are you telling me you serve three ******* years and that equals up to raping and killing my daughter and driving my wife to commit suicide? Is that what you're ******* telling me?" I'm screaming off the top of my lungs now. "No...but--" "There is no ****** ‘but' about it! You did the crime now you're gonna do the real time you ************! You're gonna die, and not a fast death either; don't even think you're gonna get off that easy, you ******* pig! You're a monster!" I'm so loud I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called the police yet. Well, they probably did already. I don't care, though. I plan on killing myself soon enough anyhow. I want to talk to my daughter again. "I'll do anything you want, just don't kill me," the monster begs, but it's no use. "She was four ******* years old! And you killed her!" I yell. I grab the kitchen knife I left on the washer and head towards Robert Burton. I began to carve a word into his chest. "No!" he screams. "No...no...NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I stand up to admire my work in progress. On his chest there is a word carved from my knife. It says; MONSTER. I then take the knife and strike it down as hard as I can in between Robert's legs. Robert screams in agonizing horror. One thing is for sure; he ain't never gonna have any kids or hurt any more kids. Not now, not ever. Robert pukes all over his body. Some of the vomit is mixed with blood. I drop the knife and pick up the shotgun. I point it at the monster. Then, I suddenly hear my front door barge in. Before I know it the police are rushing down the steps with their guns pointed at me. At me! Can you believe this ****? He's the monster and they're pointing their guns at me? "Drop the gun!" the main cop demands. "Sorry," I say, and pull the trigger. Robert "the Monster" Burton's head explodes like a pumpkin getting smashed with an aluminum baseball bat. As soon as my shotgun goes off the police shoot me a dozen times. I fall down, breathing my last breaths. I don't mind that I'm dying. I don't mind at all. I even manage to form a smile across my face. Justice was served. Copyright 2008 Max Booth III |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 27 May 2008 ) |
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