Clover's Beatings

Clover never liked me. Although she wanted me to call her 'mom', I only did that when she was around, to avoid another beating. Oh? I didn't mention those yet... allow me to elaborate: Clover is my "mother", although truthfully, she's just wearing my mother's skin. You see, everything was fine until one day, when I was six years old. I remember my mom touching a four-leaf clover and picking it out of the ground, she gave it to me and she said it was good luck. She was wrong... oh so wrong...

From that day forward, the beatings got worse and worse, she began using everything she could, from whips to knives. The worst part was that I was also "gifted" with an unnatural healing rate when I touched that clover. I was forever in torture and not a mark was left. And that's when I came to call her Clover.

Fast forward ten years, and I was sick of it. "Today it ends" I kept thinking to myself. I heard her come through the door, but I already had the knife ready. I pounced on her, and before she could react, the knife was in her throat. She knew that she couldn't have stopped me anyways. But... something felt weird... I started laughing, and laughing, and laughing.

It felt good. Not the laughter, though. I have to thank Clover for one thing. She showed me my new hobby.

You know what my hobby is now?

Murder.

---

Credited to AlixeTiir

Comments • 0

Loading comments...