What a Fuck Up
âJust tell me what to doâ With his bloodstained hands he cradled the crying baby, hiccupping and sobbing just as she was. He knew he didnât deserve to hold her, he knew he didnât deserve to so much as call her his daughter, but he knew he couldnât leave her, not now, not after what heâd done. Leaving would be the easy way, and heâd hate himself more than he could handle if he left her at the doorstep of some unreliable orphanage. Although the title of orphan sounded more appropriate for the infant by now. âPlease, please Iâll do anything. Just t-tell me what to doâŚâ The man mumbled frantically to the newborn child, gripping onto the now stained purple blanket wrapped around her. âIâm sorry Iâm so so sorry. Just tell me. Please I donât know what to do.â He knew he wouldnât get a reply, although his pathetic pleads continued.
Hesitantly the man turned his blood splattered and tear ridden mug towards the woman lying limp against the light purple walls of the babyâs newly constructed nursery. She was dead, the evidence was clear threw chunk ripped out of her neck and the messy, deep gashes on her crest and face. Heâd killed her, heâd committed an unforgivable crime, he was nothing but a sick animal, and only thing that pulled him out of his demonic rage was the sound of the daughters shrill cries from her crib. He felt like he was going to throw up, but deep down he didnât even deserve that relief. There was no undoing this crime, he couldnât say sorry and hope for the best, heâd murdered his daughter's mother, and every time that thought ran through his mind, he flinched. Turning away from the disaster heâd painted on the wall in crimson red. He crouched over his little girl, tears continuing to run down his face as he hopelessly attempted to rock the child to comfort her. A monster, he was a monster, and now he was going to live with this blood on his hands, he was going to live knowing he deprived the most beautiful love from his child's life.
Whimpering weakly, he continued to plead âP-please just let me know what I have to do, what do you want from meâ his words barely understandable at this point âIâm sorry Iâm sorry Iâm so so sorry,â
âŚ
âWake up, Dumass.â
There was a harshness in the voice that just then filled his ears, snapping him out of what heâd previously thought was a tear ridden panic.
âooh my god⌠HEYâ
He felt the world shake for a moment, with a loud thud, and with a start, the man sat straight up, blinking in confusion and to adjusting to the sudden now bright lighting.
âGod I thought you were fucking dead or somethingâ Stella huffed, as she held her hands against her hips in annoyance. âGet up, itâs like⌠ehh 7:30, you know I canât cook worth shit.. and I donât want shitty ass instant noodles again, they give me a headache.â She flicked the old manâs forehead impatiently as he attempt to figure out where he was.
Still adjusting from the sudden change and new awareness, Barney welcomed the bref contact, helping him figure out reality from his earlier scarily vivid ânightmareâ⌠âAhâŚâ He looked to the teenager, staring for a moment before flinching, as if in pain. âRight⌠Iâm s-sorry⌠Iâll do that.â Rubbing his face he turned to get up, Stella stepping aside.
âWhat's your deal? Youâre not getting sick again already are you, you literally just got over a damn cold like, 2 days ago.â Stella tapped her foot, looking displeased.
âEr⌠n-no I donât think so⌠I was just taking a nap..â Barney mumbled, standing up, wobbling for a moment, still waking up.
Stella gestured to his face âYouâre pale as fuck, like, more than whatâs normal for you, and your eyes are bloodshot.â
He flinched again âOh.. n-noo no.. didnât sleep well I.. suppose.â Biting his lip, Barney turned around towards the kitchen slouching slightly as he slowly began to walk âI-- Iâll make hotdogs⌠for dinnerâŚ. if thatâs ok.â
âYeah whatever.â the girl spat, shoving her hands in her pockets and following behind him nonchalantly, hardly paying any mind to him now that she knew she was getting what she needed.
With a gentle sigh, he nodded, content knowing and after that, there would be no conversation between the two that night.











