Brain Dead Blues

by Matt Hayward

  She slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning to the sound of her father's ceaseless snoring. The idea of the creature in the next room never left her mind. Still, after some time, she drifted off.

  She dreamed of monsters.

  In the morning, Angela's father made her favorite breakfast of bacon and eggs. She ate the eggs, but only picked at the bacon. The idea of eating meat turned her stomach after what she'd seen in her dreams.

  “Nightmares,” Angela said. “They weren't dreams. They were nightmares.”

  “Huh? Honey, is everything all right?”

  “No, everything is not all right. There's a monster under my bed. He has sharp little teeth and a face like a pig. Nothing's going to be all right until I can get rid of him.”

  Shaking his head, Angela's father cleared their dishes. “Look, I have to get to work. I'm really sorry about this, honey, but Tammy isn't free to look after you today. Can you entertain yourself, like a big girl?”

  Angela nodded. Inside, she was delighted. She loved being home alone. Being by herself meant doing anything she pleased. She could put make-up on her dolls, watch hours of TV, use her father's laptop, dress up in anything she liked, eat ice-cream... Even wander the forest out back, the one that her father hated being so close by. Kids always seemed to go missing in forests, he had once said.

  “I'll call Harriet when I get to work,” her father added, talking more to himself. “She might be available. Hopefully.”

  “Harriet? But Harriet smells of cabbage and she just sleeps all day. I hate her.”

  Angela's father laughed. “Yeah, that will happen when you get old. Listen. Do this for me, all right? I'm trying my best.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  “Everything will be better when I get home. I promise.”

  “Okay...”

  Angela's father kissed her on the forehead and made to leave. He called out a goodbye as he stepped outside and she waited for the noise of the car engine to disappear before she got up and went to the front door.

  Her father hated her being outside when there was no one at home to look out for her. It stemmed from the time he'd found her building a hut in the forest. There'd been a snake hole nearby that she'd never noticed. Her father had cried when he'd discovered her and made her promise that she'd never go into the forest alone again.

  But she still wanted to go out. And besides, if Harriet did come by, she would be asleep on the couch all afternoon, so what difference did it make? It was too nice a day to miss. The sun was high, and it was a Saturday. Angela went outside.

  “Get her, Preston!”

  Angela stomach lurched as the little yapping terrier raced towards her. Its jewel-encrusted collar gleamed in the bright sun. The dog made it to the other side of the road and onto the yard in a matter of seconds. Across the street, Kathy Hogan watched on in delight from her porch.

  Angela scrambled with the front door handle, her hands slick with sweat. Something smacked against her leg. Then bit.

  “Ow!”

  Angela managed to get the door open, viciously shaking her leg. The tiny terrier yelped and flew through the air, landing on its back on the porch and scrambling to its feet. It bolted for her again, but she got the door closed just in time. The terrier barked and scratched on the other side of the door. Panting, Angela slid down to the floor and cried. She looked at her leg through blurred vision. Preston had bitten right through her favorite pair of tights.

  “Little shit!” Angela shouted. It felt good to use bad words when her father wasn't around. “How dare you, you bastard!”

  Kathy Hogan's voice came from outside, muffled by the door. “You hurt my Preston! I'll get you for this, Angela!”

  Dabbing her eyes on her arm, Angela shuffled to the kitchen, her shoulders hunched. Kathy Hogan didn't deserve to have a dog. She just trained it to be mean and bite people so they would be afraid of her. Angela hated her. And she hated that dog, too. If only she could—

  Angela's breath caught in her chest. The garbage bin was moving.

  “You're in there, aren't you?”

  The bag inside the bin stopped rustling.

  “Come out. I'm not like Kathy Hogan. I wouldn't hurt you. I'm not mean. I promise.”

  Angela sniffled and crept towards the bin. She wasn't afraid. If she could face Preston, then she could face a piggy, little thing like this. She reached out, inching closer.

  The creature sat on top of the rubbish, more terrifying than she remembered. Its furry little back shuddered as its large mouth worked open and closed, those tiny fish-hook teeth tearing through that morning's leftover bacon. It caught sight of her and screamed.

  The noise was like a tea kettle on the boil, high and sharp. Angela screamed, too.

  When they stopped, the critter trembled. Taking a deep breath, Angela shook her head. “It's okay. You're just like a spider, aren't you? My father says that they're just as afraid of you as you are of them.”

  Cautiously, the critter went back to chewing on the bacon. Its eyes darted to Angela now and again, but she got the impression it was becoming more comfortable in her presence. It ate slowly.

  “You're a hungry little fella, aren't you?”

  “Awwaga geeww...”

  Angela's chest lurched. Had that thing tried to copy her sentence? Could it talk? “Can you say you?”

  “Geeuu...”

  “Oh my god... You're much better than any dog!”

  With newfound courage, Angela hurried to the bin. The tiny critter made a high sound, like a growl, and she stopped.

  “It's all right. I know what will make you trust me. I have more bacon in the refrigerator. Would you like some of that?”

  “Ggaaattth...”

  “I bet you would. Wait right here.”

  Angela took a raw slice of bacon from the fridge and returned to the bin. The bacon felt cold and slimy in her hand.

  “I don't think you'd mind it raw, would you? I would never eat it raw, never, ever. But you might like it.”

  The creature swallowed the last of its bacon before looking to the fresh slice wiggling in Angela's hand. Its eyes widened, glistening in the morning light.

  “Don't!” Angela warned. “Don't come at me like you did last night, okay? I'll hand it to you... and then you're going outside with me. It's a nice day. We'll go into the backyard and enjoy it. Understand?”

  The creature gave no indication if it did or not, it simply kept its eyes trained on the raw bacon. Angela inched closer towards the bin as a thin line of saliva dripped from the creature's fatty lips onto the garbage. She slowly lowered the bacon, watching it curl onto the rubbish like a sleeping snake. When she removed her hand, the creature lurched for it, making her yelp. It finished it in seconds.

  “Okay, now I'm going to pick you up. Don't be bold.”

  Angela slowly reached for the critter, her hands trembling. It eyed her, studying her curiously. It made a low, mewling sound the closer she got. But it never tried to bite her. Angela let out a shaking breath and wrapped her hands around it. It felt fluffy and oily, like unwashed hair. The smell of onions and wet dog invaded her nostrils and she grimaced.

  “Phew, you're a stinky one. That's it. Don't bite. Please...”

  The creature sniffed at her palms, its nostrils flexing. It continued to make that cat-like sound, and she could feel it vibrate between her hands, but it didn't try to nip her.

  With the creature held safely, Angela shuffled to the back door and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

  “Here we are. I'm going to put you down, okay?”

  Angela lowered the critter to the porch then slowly sat beside it, not wanting to frighten it. It sniffed at the wood, interested in the new environment. A spider scuttled past, and the creature lapped it into its mouth with great speed. It crunched on the insect and purred. Two of the spider's legs jittered from between its lips.

  “Do you have a family?” Angela asked. “Did they leave you here? Or maybe you got l
ost? Do you have a mommy and a daddy? I just have a daddy. His name's Philip. My mommy died when I was five. She had a brain aneurysm in the car park of a cinema one night. I don't remember her much, but I have photos and she was very pretty.”

  The creature looked at her with interest. It continued to purr.

  “Kathy Hogan has a terrier named Preston. I hate them both. She bullies me at school because I'm not pretty like her. The boys call me Sicko too, because one time I had an upset stomach and still had to go to school, because my dad couldn't leave me at home by myself. He had to work and Tammy wasn't free to look after me. She's in college and I want to be like her when I grow up.”

  Angela reached out towards the critter. She kept her palm open and lay it beside the thing. She knew from watching videos online that if you reached for an animal too quickly, or in the wrong fashion, it could perceive it as a threat. So instead, she laid her hand down, hoping the creature would make the first move. It sniffed at her palm, then licked it with a tongue as rough as sandpaper.

  Angela giggled. “Eww! That's disgusting. Still, you're much better than any dog, you know that? You're unique. That's what my dad says about me, too. There's no one else in the whole wide world like me. And my crooked teeth, my freckles, all make me who I am. They make me perfect. So now, I like them. I like you too. Do you like me?”

  The critter continued to purr. It sniffed at the wood beneath its clawed feet and moved around in circles, exploring.

  “Kathy Hogan makes my life hell. Daddy says not to pay her any attention. But she makes me pay attention. It's hard to ignore a backpack in your face, or a slap on the back of your head in class. Daddy said she's spoilt, because her mommy is a rich person who got left loads of money. Her daddy is a drunk who sleeps most the time, so my dad says Kathy's mom overcompensates by buying Kathy anything she wants. Including that poopyhead, Preston.”

  There was banging on the front door, loud and hard.

  “Does anybody know you're here? Are they going to take you away?”

  The critter's interest remained on the floorboards.

  “Philip!” a voice called from the other side of the house. “Come out here, right now!”

  “Oh no, that's Kathy's father. You wait right here, okay? Don't go anywhere.”

  Angela went to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening it. She peered up at Richard Hogan. The smell of beer poured from the man in a wave, making Angela's nose twitch. His bald head shone in the bright light. Around his dirty work boots, Preston sniffed and wandered.

  “Where's your father, girl?”

  “My daddy's not home. He's at work.”

  Richard smirked. “You kick my dog, did you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then you calling my Kathy a liar? Huh? Because she says she saw you kick my dog.”

  “No, sir. Your dog bit me, so I shook it off. That's what happened, honest.”

  “Not the way my Kathy tells it. She says you kicked our dog, so it bit you. Serves you right, you know. Should never kick someone else's pet.”

  Preston wandered away from the porch and inspected the flowerbeds along the top of the yard. Angela's head whirled with a single sentence: Please don't go around to the backyard. Please don't go around to the backyard...

  “How would you like it if someone kicked you, huh?” Richard Hogan asked.

  Angela's bladder threatened to let go. She looked up at Richard and her body trembled. “Please… I’ll tell my daddy to stop by later.”

  Angela tried to close the door, but Richard put a dirty work boot in its path. It bounced back open.

  “You shouldn't close a door in a grown-up's face, you little bitch. It ain't polite.”

  He grabbed Angela by the scruff of the neck and shoved her. Angela balked and fell three paces but managed to keep her balance. Her body shook. She stared at Richard Hogan, her eyes wet. After a moment of silence, Richard sighed. “Don't you ever touch my dog again, hear? Or I'll be back. You can bet on it.”

  Richard turned and strutted back across the street, leaving Angela with her stomach in knots. Had a grown-up just laid his hands on her? Could they do that? Grown-ups were meant to be the ones to confide in when someone bullied you. But who were you supposed to tell when the adult was the bully?

  Angela closed the front door, her face scrunched in pain and confusion. She felt scared and shaken.

  Where did Preston go?

  “Oh, no…”

  Scrambling to the backyard, Angela took the kitchen in three strides. She burst out onto the porch, scanning left and right. What if Preston got to her new pet? That terrier would tear the tiny creature limb from limb.

  Angela's breath caught in her throat.

  Ahead, Preston's collar lay in the grass. It looked slicked with blood. Beyond that, Angela's new pet sniffed at what looked like a pile of carpet that had been run through a blender with inners. A lot of inners. The whole world seemed to spin, and Angela grabbed the porch railing to stay upright. Her legs were like jackhammers. The tiny critter chewed on one of Preston's legs. It sucked the meat clean off as if it were a spare-rib. It still made that low, purring sound.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no...”

  The critter's head snapped in her direction. Its leathery face was stained a shining brown. Its eyes lit up, and it dropped the half-eaten leg. It waddled quickly towards her through the grass, looking like the world's strangest wind-up toy.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” it said, copying Angela's words. “Owwwww...”

  Was it trying to smile? Angela thought it was. It stopped just short of her and sniffed at her torn tights. Its tiny nostrils flared, sucking in her scent. The purring noise it was making became louder. It liked her. It definitely liked her.

  “You ate Preston,” Angela said, pointing to the terrier's remains. The creature looked at her, happily. “You ate a dog!”

  Then Angela began to laugh. It crept up from her stomach like a ticklish snake, boiling over until she couldn't take it. She giggled hysterically. The creature's smile grew wider.

  “You ate Preston! You ate Kathy Hogan's dog! Good boy!”

  She reached down to pat its head. The creature mewled at first, the hair on its back standing up straight, then it relaxed. Angela's palm came away red. She wiped it on her torn tights.

  “A grown-up hurt me today. He came over and said that I kicked Preston. But I didn't. Kathy Hogan is the liar, not me. Then he pushed me. He grabbed my clothes and pushed me. He's nothing but a big bully.”

  The creature's eyes kept darting back to the dead terrier, but it seemed to enjoy being with Angela. It looked to like the attention. Its stomach gurgled.

  “You're still hungry, aren't you?”

  The creature whimpered. Saliva dribbled from its lips.

  “I don't like when people bully me,” Angela said. She pouted and folded her arms across her chest. “I've had it with bullies. You wouldn't know what it's like, because you've got sharp teeth and claws. But I'm going to fight back and show them that I won't take it any more. No one will mess with Angela Hughes ever again.” She smirked. “You wait right here. I'll bring you something good.”

  Angela started towards the side of the house. She expected the critter to follow her, like a puppy, but it appeared that food was more important to it. It hopped through the grass back to its buffet of shredded flesh, bone and fur. Angela didn't mind. She hated that dog, anyway. Her insides danced with excitement.

  After three knocks, Richard Hogan finally answered the door. Angela had waited until there was no one else around to cross the street to his house. She had heard Kathy Hogan and her mother on the next block over, shouting Preston's name, but other than that, the street was empty. Good. No one was watching.

  “What do you want?” Richard asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “My daddy's at home now, Mr. Hogan. He'd like to speak with you.”

  Richard's face fell. “Now you listen here...” He bent to one knee, pointing a finger in Angela's fa
ce. “You kicked my dog, so I put you in your place, understand? Now, I'm an adult, I'm bigger than you, so you don't ask me no questions. That's just the way it is. I punished you for hurting my Preston, and that's what happened. Don't you tell your daddy 'cause that's just the way it is.”

  “Oh, but I already did, Mr. Hogan. And he's mad. He's very, very mad.”

  The color drained from Richard's face. Angela continued while a laugh threatened to spill out of her.

  “He said that he's fucking pissed. I don't know what that means, but I know that he's angry, for sure. He's in the backyard and he wants to see you right away. He said if you don't come over, then he'll come over here. He also asked me to ask you if you understood?”

  Richard swallowed. It looked like a stone had caught in his throat. “Y-yeah, I understand, Angela. I’m… I’m coming.”

  Angela smiled. “Okay!”

  She turned and skipped across the street, scanning it in both directions as she went. Still no sign of anybody around.

  She shouted back over her shoulder. “He's in the backyard, Mr. Hogan! He's waiting for you.”

  Angela led the way around the side of the house, Richard following close behind. She looked to her torn tights, and felt anger wash over her. How dare that family bully me, she thought. Who do they think they are?

  When she reached the grass, she spun and smiled. “Ta-da!”

  Richard Hogan's mouth dropped open. He gasped.

  “What in the Lord's name?”

  Running to the mess of animal on the lawn, he cried out. Angela giggled and covered her mouth.

  Richard fell to his knees, an unintelligible noise escaping his throat. He scooped up the pile of what used to be Preston's head and trembled.

  “What did you do? What in God's name did you do? You little... you little bitch!”

  Behind him, Angela's critter waddled through the grass towards Richard. Its hair stood up on its back, like a threatened dog. It made a low mewling noise. Another living thing sat at its food, Angela realized. She watched the two of them, her heart beating faster in anticipation.

  “I never liked your dog, Mr. Hogan. And I never liked you, either. I absolutely hate Kathy, as well. So you can blame her. She started it.”