A Story (Because I Can)
Disclaimer: I don’t own them and I don’t know them and I make no money.
A/N: Okay, so this is the most fucked up story of all time, but I wanted to write it really really badly and I know I’ll get lots of reviews/flames saying how fucked up it is, but I just HAD TO!
Mom and Dad will NEVER Understand
Month One
I am a mass of cells. This really sucks. Seriously, I’m just a mass of cells. I’m floating around and it’s not the funnest part of life being stuck inside your mom. Especially when she doesn’t know I’m here and her and Dad keep having sex. Talk about scarred for life. I’m going to throw up on him as soon as I come out.
—
Mom and Dad are getting married today. They don’t know that their first son is at the wedding. Kind of funny. I’ll have to tease them about that once I learn to talk. Oh, great. That means there’s a honeymoon tonight, isn’t there?
—
Mom found out she was pregnant. Dad screamed. Then he hugged her. Then they had sex. Don’t they know that’s how they got into this situation to start with?
Month Two
I’m getting a face. It’s weird not having a face. Really weird. But I have arms and legs now. Not that I can do anything with them. Weird. And I have seven months to go.
Dad’s been singing to me. God that’s got to be weird. Singing to Mom’s stomach. And he keeps singing songs that make Mom hit him. Cuss words. Dad doesn’t think I understand what they mean. He thinks I’m stupid.
I think my first word is going to be ‘fuck’ just to prove to him I’m not stupid.
—
Dad’s so weird. At least that’s what Mom keeps saying when he’s not in the room.
But Mom’s not much better. She keeps reading stories to me that are really dumb. If I hear another Grimm tale again I’m going to abort myself.
Month Three
I’m getting really sick of the view here. There is no view. I want to move. Mom keeps eating weird food like ketchup and vanilla ice cream mixed together and Dad keeps singing to me. Mom put earphones on her stomach today and made me listen to Mozart. As soon as I can I’m going to kick her.
At least she stopped reading those stupid stories. Instead she’s been talking about how weird Dad is and puking. Oh that’s real fun.
They don’t want to know if I’m a boy or a girl. Kind of funny. Mom wants to call me some weird name like Jewel or Gemstone or something and Dad doesn’t. He said he’ll buy her a necklace instead.
But he’s not much better. He wants to name me Gweniveire if I’m a girl.
No boy names yet. I am currently nameless.
Month Four
Ha ha! Today I had revenge. I kicked Mom. But I guess they don’t realize I’m annoyed. Mom and Dad just touched her stomach and said it was the cutest thing.
Cutest thing? Just wait until she’s sleeping. And I know she’ll wake Dad up.
—
Mom thinks she looks fat. She’s pregnant. Of course she looks fat. But Dad told her she doesn’t and she looks beautiful. Liar. Even I know she’s fat and I can’t see her.
But at least she stopped eating ketchup and ice cream. Olive and pineapple pizza now, which is weird but not as bad.
—
Those two weird guys came over again today. Mike and Tre. Mike kept poking me and Tre tried to tell me a story about Mom and Dad and a concert and something. Mom slapped him I think and so he told me a story about an evil clown and my dad. He’s weird.
Month Five
I have no discovered that I should sleep during the day and kick at night. If I’m going to be trapped here for four more months, then everyone’s going to be just as grumpy as I am.
Except Mike and Tre obviously. I can’t kick them. Tre told me another stupid story about something that eats fish and Dad running around in a cape and eating leaves. I think Mike drew something on Mom’s stomach.
That’s screwed up.
—
I went to see my Grandma again today. Dad’s mom I guess. She kept poking me too. Aren’t they worried they’ll give me brain damage or something. Well, I kicked Grandma even though I probably shouldn’t have. But she did what everyone else did and talked in baby talk to me.
It’s so degrading.
Month six
You know, some babies come out early. I think I’m stuck in her until nine months are up though. Mom’s been crying and screaming and cooking. Cooking a lot. It’s nasty tofu stuff that Dad likes and Mom decided isn’t that bad.
It’s gross. But Tre took Mom out for steak last week and that was good.
—
I flew in a plane today. Mom puked the whole time. That sucked. I’m never flying in a plane again. I don’t think Dad really wants to either. They’re renting a car and driving back. Thank God.
Month Seven
This is getting really boring. There’s only so many times you can redecorate a uterus. And I’m sick of kicking Mom. But I have to because if I don’t she’s worried I’m dead or something.
We went to some award show thing. I guess Mom and I aren’t the only people Dad sings to. Mom ate five banana splits after the show.
I wish I could puke.
Month Eight
I’ve been praying I’m a preemie. God is dead.
Month Nine
Any day now. Any day . . .
—
I’m waiting . . .
—
Hello?
—
That feels really weird.
—
Mom, would you stop screaming?
Out of the Uterus
It’s cold! It’s cold! Don’t hit me! What’s wrong with you? I’m suing you for malpractice.
Oh, God. You’re my dad? Why are you cutting me? Freaks! I was born into the Manson family! Get me out of here! Children’s services!
Oh, look. It’s my Mom. She’s pretty. Her eyes are red. I think she’s stoned.
I think Dad’s stoned, too.
Nice view.
—
Oh god. Fucking weird, huh?
That’s Gerard. Fucking hot, huh?
