I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been relatively MIA lately. Other than a blog here or there, my beloved website has been full of (fabulous) guest blogs, crickets, and the occasional tale of me nearly killing myself.
So what have I been doing that’s been keeping me away? Good things! Lots of good things! Things I am super excited to share with you!
Parenthood changes people’s lives in horrifying and inevitable ways. No matter how hard you resist, you soon find yourself being that parent far too often to deny it. It won’t be long before mom jeans and minivans are calling your name.
Discussing bowel movements over dinner? Guilty. Peeing with an audience? Check. Grocery shopping alone? Sounds like a tropical vacation! Watching cartoons hours after the kids have gone to bed? Now your only hobby!
What do you do when motherhood turns you into someone you hardly recognize? When you open your mouth and, holy hell, your mother comes out?
Kids Are Turds proves that you don’t need to be Super-Mom to be a “good” mom (whatever that is), but you absolutely do need a sense of humor to get through the hard days. Either that, or you can give in, yank up your mom jeans, and rock a mile-long camel toe. So for the love of retinas everywhere, be strong!
It started as just a short story, and branched out from there- but I want to share with you the beginning. The 3 part opening. (It’s YA dark paranormal/sci-fi
Chapter 1: The End
Part 1: The Door
“Who’s there?” Anais called out; her voice stern, but shaking. There was no answer, just like there has been no answer the last five times she asked.
Again, there was a loud knock at the door. There was so much force it shook.
Anais knew the answer. It was death, and it had come for her.
She was being selfish. Deep down, Anais knew that. She got far more time than most, but she still couldn’t bring herself to follow the rules.
The room grew colder. Suddenly, the thought of giving over her life became paralyzing, even though Anais knew her fate from the moment her life began. There was no other way.
Anais’s eyes darted to the doorknob as it slowly began to turn, and then down to her legs. They were cut and bloodied from the briar she’d run through a few days prior. As she sat pressed against the wall, watching the door shake and the knob twist, she didn’t think she could run any more.
“You have something of mine” the voice hissed through the keyhole. Anais could feel the hair on the back of her neck begin to raise. She pushed herself as hard against the wall as should could, wishing she could disappear. Wishing this were nothing but a nightmare. Her entire life prior to that moment was not much more than a blur; a dark void of sadness and emptiness. There was no light, no happiness. All she could remember was feeling cold, much like she felt where she sat, pressed against the wall- wishing to be dreaming. She never once felt alive, not really. Not until the day she decided to run.
“Oh, Annie.” the voice whispered, almost in a sing-songy way, like it relished the moment it had caught her, “You just have to give it back and you can go home.”
The words bounced around in Anais’s head. Home… she couldn’t. Home was why she ran… or so she thought. It felt like a lifetime ago. She almost couldn’t remember anything but the darkness. The soul-swallowing darkness.
Home? Never again.
She looked down at her legs. Some of the cuts fresh, and some beginning to heal. She could heal. All on her own. She didn’t need home. She could do this. She could live.
And then she thought about The Girl.
Part 2: The Girl
The Girl was pretty. That was the first thing Anais noticed. Her hair was long and reminded Anais of a river of flowing chocolate. Anais had never tasted chocolate, but she imagined it was sweet and tasted like happiness; something she longed for. Something she dreamed about when she could actually sleep. Something The Girl had and Anais did not. Something The Girl didn’t seem to care about. Anais never concerned herself with superficial things, but still, she couldn’t help wondering how such a pretty girl could be so unhappy? The Girl didn’t care about her life. Didn’t consider it as something precious; not like Anais knew it to be.
For days, Anais watched The Girl without being detected. She watched The Girl walk, always alone. The Girl didn’t seem to have any friends. The Girl never smiled. The Girl’s family treated her as an outcast. A burden. Just another mouth to feed in their oh-so perfect family. The Girl spent most of her time in her room. The Girl had considered taking her own life on more than one occasion. No one would miss The Girl. That’s what made it so easy. The Girl was so miserable, Anais would be doing her a favor.
Anais had never taken anything in her life that she wasn’t told to. She’d never even asked for anything.
The Girl’s room grew cold.
It was then that Anais took The Girl’s life.
A feeling washed over her; one she’d never felt before. It wasn’t remorse, or sadness… no. It wasn’t either of those things. There hadn’t been a struggle. The Girl felt no fear, no pain. She hadn’t put up a fight or begged for her life, so what was there to feel bad about? What Anais felt wasn’t regret, it was freedom. She felt happiness. She felt like she had dreamed eating chocolate would be like. It was exhilarating. It was amazing. It was short-lived.
The room grew cold. All of Anais’s happy dreams crashed to the ground like ice and shattered.
Part 3: The Voice
Anais’s heart pounded. Even though she’d been running for days on end, her heart had never beat so hard. She could feel it thumping through her ears threatening to burst out of her, but still…
The voice pierced through like a dagger.
Anais slammed her hands over her ears, violently shaking her head back and forth. She didn’t… She wouldn’t… no matter what, she couldn’t let The Voice get to her. Like she knew it wanted to. Like it always did.
“Open the door.”- The Voice was no longer whispering. The Voice was fed up with these games. It was angry, and Anais knew that this meant her time was quickly running out.
She thought maybe if she closed her eyes and fell asleep, all of this- the running, the hiding, the taking- would turn out to be nothing but a dream. Deep down, Anais knew she was only kidding herself. Delaying in inevitable. There wouldn’t be chocolate when she closed her eyes. There would only be darkness, and there would still be The Voice. There would always be The Voice.
“It’s time, Anais. Don’t you think it’s been long enough?”
If you listened the right way, The Voice almost sounded like it cared. It sounded endearing, as though it wanted to help Anais, even though it knew the path that led her to this point was paved with purposeful mistakes.
Tears stung Anais’ eyes and burned as they rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. They were the last tears she’d ever cry. She didn’t want it to be true, but she knew that it was. As the first one hit the floor in front of her cut up legs as she sat pressed against the wall of the shack she’d been hiding in- she laughed. This was it. This was really it. She had cheated death, and after running for so long, it had all finally caught up to her and now she would have to pay.
“You broke the rules, Anais. You took a life before it’s time. Now you must face the consequences.”
Anais hung her head as more hot tears streamed down her face, finally feeling the shame she knew she deserved to feel. For wanting the impossible. For running. For The Girl. She touched the cuts on her legs and then lifted her hands in front of her face so she could see the blood on her fingertips. Her blood.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Anais sobbed, “I just wanted to be human.”
Aaaaaaaand that’s all you get. I’m really excited to be writing it, the way it’s going- and also excited to get back to blogging about the important stuff. Like poop. And…. poop.
The “Are You Ready to Have Kids?” Checklist of Doom goo.gl/fb/DTPJ1A
If anyone asks how I died, you can just go ahead and tell them "she was lured in by free pie in exchange for listening to 2nd graders screech Thanksgiving songs for 30 minutes"
Half-Assed Jingler Syndrome goo.gl/fb/McWfBy
@ItsEvieClaire Booze and tears
I'm not saying this is the perfect #Christmas gift for all the parents in your life, but.... okay, yeah I am. That's exactly what I'm saying. Truths from the bowels of parenthood! amazon.com/Kids-Are-Turds…
@Gofashiondeals All of that and more. Good times. Gooooood times