Drunk blogging

I am drunk and I hate myself for not posting. Here goes a short story I have prepped 0%

Making it up as I go.  I have already finished writing it and I am going to proof it once after my fourth cup of Jack.  Please give criticism but go easing on the spelling and the failure to keep it First Person.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

My bedroom door was crashing like waves against my sanity.  Sitting on the twin bed weighing it down to keep the door closed I cried in silence.  Hoping that it would go away if I was quiet enough.  Wishing it would stop.

The clock read 3 A.M. and I knew that silence wouldn't save me.  Pretending I didn't exist wouldn't work like it did in the hallways at my school.  I couldn't focus with the pounding on the door.  I couldn't breath knowing that my dad was on the other side.  Sure he was a drunk and a jerk.  Sure he didn't understand why I didn't want to go out for football and cared more about Star Trek than 13 year old girls.  That didn't make me hate him enough to want this.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Nothing could soften the hurt in my soul as my mind forces me to watch the arterial spray from my sisters neck as my father begins to chew on her meaty thigh. Her in her white and yellow polka dot spring dress.  Sure my sister was a mean spirited bitch who was popular and was dating a football player in high school.  That doesn't mean I wanted to watch me father chew on her as she tried to scream and only vomited blood....

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Tears ran down my face and snot clung to my chin as my mind refused to work.  The burgundy sheets beneath me were soaked with the tears leave a large dark stain at my knees.

The bed moved into the room an inch.  I responded by rolling off the bed and pulling my dresser onto it to block entrance into my room.  The survival instinct in me refused to give up despite the situation.  The dresser was half on the base of my bed and half on the floor.  My brain worked despite itself and I got between the dresser and the wall and rolled it over and off the bed so that it was between the wall and my bed almost filling up the space between.  The bed had only 3 more inches before it was locked against the dresser but that left 6 inches between my bed and my door.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The sound of furniture crashing renewed his fervor.  My situation worsening as I noticed the dressed was off center and opposite the opening end of the door.  I could see my dad's arm.  Inside my room.  Grabbing at the wall.  Grabbing at my bed.  My sisters dried blood flaking off onto my burgundy sheets and disappearing against the dark stain.  His arm was inside and I could see his mouth and nose.  Biting at the air inside my sanctuary.  Blood and spittle floating through the air and dropping onto the bed that he banged against.  Rolling over the dresser I braced my back against the wall  in the hopes of stopping the progress of the opening door.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Now my fathers shoulder was inside the door propping it open with it's girth.  Fear had ruled my mind for the past four hours.  Knowing that my sister was dead and my dad had done the deed was too much to process.  My left foot slipped off the bed frame at the same instant his rhythmic crashing hit the door.  My foot pushed up the mattress and flipped my 2011 Playboy College Girls onto the floor.

Boom! Boom! Crack!

It was a miracle the door had held for 4 hours being as cheap as it was and considering how big my father was.  5'8 230 pounds compared to my 70 pounds.  An epiphany came to me.  My mother.  4 hours and I hadn't thought about my mother once. The woman who took beatings to protect me from my fathers alpha attitude.  The woman who kept him from beating me when he was drunk by offering herself up as a target.  The only way that I can describe the feeling that welled up in my gut was righteous anger.  For all that she had done for me I sat here and did nothing for her.

Crack! Boom Crack!

I could see my dads face now.  The door was in shambles and he could climb over the top of it if he had the wit to.  I released my feet from the bed frame and pushed off the wall to roll over to my desk.  It was a flimsy thing with 3 metal legs and a plywood top.  Nothing that would even slow my father.  What I reached for was something else though.  The Rawlings baseball bat my dad gave me on my 10th birthday.

Crack! Crack! Snap!

I grabbed the bat with two hands and swung as I turned screaming in fury and determination.  Snot and tears flying as I put all 70 pounds behind it.  My dad was almost face down on my bed.  The force from his incessant banging carrying him through the door.

CRACK!

Little blood flew contrary to what I expected.  His temple just caved in leaving his body twitching in an effort to inch towards me.   The dark red stain of my sheets a bloody looking backdrop to the gruesome scene of his crushed skull and crushed hollow door.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Now there was blood and plenty of it.  The twitching stopped and my dads lifeless corpse slid back into the hallway over the remaining quarter of the door.

I realized I had stopped crying sometime in between holding the door shut and breaking my dads skull open.  Purpose drove me to find my mother and protect her.  Something bigger than myself was at stake here and I couldn't afford to shut down and hide like I was accustomed to.  It was time I became the hero I had always dreamt of being.  The hallway light was still on.  My dads now corpse lay knees against the broken door and his mushy head against the opposite wall.  His stomach was distended and looked like the belly of the two girls in the 8th grade class that were about to have a baby.  Huge and distended.

A shudder struck me as I realized that the mass in his abdomen was my sister.  This was no game.  My dad was dead.  My sister was dead.  My mother was missing.  I need to find her and protect her.

The bathroom and the linen closet were clear so I went back down the hallway into the living room.  Living Room.  The room where my dad ate my sister.  The Dead Room.  My own little nightmare.

A faint whisper could be heard as I rounded the corner, my bat in front of me.  "Hhhhhhhheeugh".

My sisters corpse was still but her head was up.  Looking at me.  Breathing through her throat.  Her head leaning far to my left, her right because that side of her throat was gone.  Her right thigh was missing flesh down to the bone.  Her clothes were drenched in blood and torn to shreds.  Her right breast and half of her left were gone.  A nipple sadly pointing to her sternum was all that remained.  I vomited right there, down my chest and all over my hands and the bat.  Green and black bile covered everything..  The tension of my father had been too much for my mind to process, but in this quiet room with the girl I hated most in the world looking at me it was too real.  It was that moment that I realized I loved her.  I realized that I would rather die than live another day as well but it was a passing thought.  One of many that I had learned to ignore.

CRACK! BAM! SPLOSH!

I considered it a mercy.  I hit her in the temple just like I had my father and she fell.  Silent.  Eerie.  So quiet I listened for the first time.  The retort of gun shots and squealing tire wheels sounded distant but loud enough for me to tell what they were.  The sounds told me this wasn't just my dad going crazy and my sister holding onto life by a thread scaring me silly with her deathly moans.  I was scared and my arms began to shake.  No tears this time though, not like with my dad pounding on my door, hour after hour.  My eyes burned and I knew they would be red and splotchy.  There was nothing for it though and I needed to check the rest of the house for my mother.

The kitchen was empty.  I moved as quietly as I could.  The linoleum floors never creaked under my weight.  The house was silent.  My sisters room was empty.  It was messy as usual because she never cleaned it.  The carnage that had left its mark in blood on the other rooms was absent. It had an almost calming effect.  The laundry room was empty too and for the first time I was happy that we lived in a one story home.

BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP! BLAP!

The gunfire, for that is what it had to be, sounded like it was going off in my head.  Someone was unloading a gun in the yard or our neighbors yards.  It was something I had never heard before, outside of a movie, and it scared the shit out of me.  I finally pissed my pants standing silent in the dark hallway just 2 feet from the door to my parents master suite.  It felt warm running down my leg.  My underwear caught it and pooled it so there was no splatter like I always imagined there would happen.  Just a warm feeling running down my leg.  I couldn't smell anything because my nose was swollen shut from crying.

A scratching sounded over the ringing in my ears from the gun fire and the door began to shake.  I reached out and turned the knob hoping to find my mother.  Instead the door crashed outwards towards me and almost knocked me down.  A figure bore down over me.  I used the bat to push the scrawny figure back but the bat slipped past and whatever it was landed on top of me.  My head bent sideways as its ribs crashed against my shoulder.  I tried to leverage the bat as a fulcrum to push the thing off of me but the vomit caused it to slip from my hands.  I beat at its head with my bare, vomit soaked hands as the jaws reached for me but the bony figure didn't even slow.

That is when I realized it was my mother.  My mother was going to eat me if I didn't do something fast.  Again survival mode kicked in and I rolled onto my back keeping my legs between us.  My legs weren't strong enough to push her past me onto the floor.  Instead she crashed down on top of me.  Her weight pressing me into the floor.  She may have been skinny but she still weighed twice as much as I did and I was no match for her.  I tried to roll away as she fell on my but just rolled into the wall of our narrow hallway and left my back open to her.  She bit into my mid back.  I knew it was a bite only because I felt her teeth scrape against my ribs.  Her teeth went straight through the cotton t-shirt that I was wearing. The pain only motivated me to fight harder to stay alive.  With my feet pressed against the wall I pushed my mother into the opposite wall jarring her grip.  Following it up with a forward somersault I was suddenly out of reach.  I felt like a ninja.  This shit was real and I was surviving.  My life may be ending but I could tell that a new life was beginning for me.  No more hiding in plain site pretending that I wasn't good enough for anyone around me.  I would not be afraid to show my face in public or to speak my mind ever again.  I stared at my mother on her hands and knees looking back at me.

She growled fiercely as she rose up but I was ready.  Getting up on both feet she lept into the air and landed on top of me again, the weight of her pushing past my upraised arms.  My left shoulder torqued and the pain seared through me.  I tried to push her off but she was too strong. Her teeth raked against my forehead tearing off skin. Blood ran into my eyes.  The shock of my despair overpowering the pain.  Her next bite crushed my left eye socket and this time the pain was more than the shock.  I screamed bloody murder.  I screamed as loud as my burning lungs would allow.  This caused my mother to hesitate. She sat over me her upper body no longer pressed against mine.  I couldn't see anymore but I felt her there. Looking around for something.  A million emotions hit me at once.  5 seconds of mercy from the woman who was about to eat me was enough for me to completely lose all hope.  Instead I reached up, grabbed my mother by her head, dragged her down to me, and kissed her.  I loved my mother more than anything.  I could forgive her for anything.

Her teeth tore into my lips.  Scraping and pushing against my own teeth.  Her next motion was to bite into my cheek, then down to my throat.  All the while chewing and moaning.

"I love you."

I didn't actually say it.  It wasn't possible.  All my air ran out through my throat.  My blood leaking onto the floor.  More important than saying it, I meant it.  Even now I loved her.  Even now I forgave her.  As the room began to spin and the pain of her teeth digging into my gut began to subside I smiled.  Only half my face managed to move and it must have been grotesque to anyone that might have been watching, but no one was.  It was my last moment, alone with my mother.  The woman who sacrificed everything to protect me.  The only person to ever make me feel loved.

Darkness came then.  I could feel the jostling of my body and my back working its way across the floor towards the laundry room. Then I fell through the floor into nothingness and ceased to be.

The End.

My first public Zombie short story.  Let me know what you think.