Stay Still

I remember when I was still alive.
When I was normal.
When I was good enough.
But that was awhile ago. Now I’m just this thing. This monster. Who know’s how far I’ll go, but then again, no one even cares.

Tiffany is a fifteen year old girl obsessed with her weight. All she thinks about is the last thing she ate and how soon she will purge it all up.
She knows she has a problem, but denies it all.

Soon her older brother Brad gets discharged out of rehab. He enters her into a new world she's been dying to experience.


14. Homicide Attempt Uno


A few hours after I spoke to the doctor,


I was force fed.



And then my mom came to “check on me.”


She doesn’t really like me, I can see it in her eyes of hatred.



“I thought you would learn! Especially after Brad ripped apart the family, and almost killed you!”



I barely thinking about that.


How he was planning to kill me,


and actually attempted.



It was a warm summer day, 


I, 8 years old. Stayed inside.


I was alone inside, everyone else was at the neighbors‘ house for some fresh BBQ and cigarettes.


Brad was supposed to be inside their house


with Brent.



I glanced at my glass princess clock on my nightstand, 


it was 2:04.


Praying my parents wouldn’t get hammered that night so they would be able to tuck me in.


I looked at my small boney fingers and grabbed some crayons.


I could have colored all over the walls, but I was a good girl then, and I loved everything. 


Besides myself.

A blank sheet of paper laid in front of me on the floor. I could draw a picture for daddy, he hasn’t gotten one in awhile.


I sketched out a few lines forming together making some sort of mystical creature.


The radio outside got louder, and louder. 


I danced along, wishing I could join the party,


but no one there appreciates a little immature girl.


Especially one like me.




The music got louder. But it wasn’t coming from outside, it was now coming from the basement.


I shivered.


But come on, it has to be mommy or daddy, maybe even Brad.


But, Brad wouldn’t waste his time playing what’s on the radio, because he listens to scary music.



Whatever, I need to finish this picture just in case they come home early for me because  they always promise me they would. 


They never do.


But they hopefully will today!


The stairs creaked. 


I was in fantasyland at the point.


Singing lullabies in my head full of rainbows and puppies. 


The perfect world.


Oh and how pretty I could be.


How pretty I could be.


The door opened.


I didn’t look.


It didn’t matter.


Because it’s not bed time, so the most it could be is just someone putting a toy our dog got out of my room.


But I forgot.


My young mind forgot how Brad let go of our dog.


He ran away last week.


He’s gone.


But I know he’ll come back, because we made him an appointment to get groomed,


and he loves getting groomed!


So he’ll come back.




Because when someone loves you they always come back.


Don’t they?

I squeezed my eyes shut.


It’s no one bad.


Mommy loves me.


Daddy loves me.


Brad loves me.


And Spot our dog loves me.



Once I open my eyes,


there stands Brad with his rifle, loaded in his arms.


“I love you Tiff. Always remember that.”

I gasped.


Tears flooded down my cheeks.


His eyes watered up as well.


He pulled the trigger.


It got stuck,


as my screams and cries made my parents rush to save me from whatever it was


either my thoughts or a spider.


They would never suspect their own son was willing to kill his sister and attempt it.

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