Hound

13

I wake up out of my sleep. When did I fall asleep?

“Hound, the door!” She shouts like a banshee.

Of f*****g course, I have to get the door. She practically lives here, she could've done it. Haphazardly, I grab one of my pistols, going to the door, scratching my head.

What the hell was I doing today?

Shit, I feel like I'm missing time. In the upside, I got some decent sleep.

I open the door, with a yawn.

“Yeah?” I ask through bleary eyes.

“A-Alexander?”

My eyes open. “Elizabeth? How the hell did you find this place?”

“I searched you. Google knows all.” I roll my eyes as she steps past me into my house.

The TV stops, so I assume Wendy's interested in this whole turn of events.

“Look, Elizabeth, I told you, we're over. Okay? And this is...is f*****g creepy, y'know?”

“Who's she?” Elizabeth pointed to Wendy, who looks defiantly back at her.

“She's...” I shake my head. “It doesn't matter. Leave. We're over.”

I wake out of my f*****g sleep to this?

The small woman I was fine of so long ago starts sobbing dramatically in my practically empty kitchen.

I stare at her blankly. “How could you bring this trollop here?”

I blink. “There's no easy way to say this, so I'm gonna...just come out with it: I think you're a psycho, uh—I want get as far away from you as humanly possible. I would do almost anything, including detriment to myself, to erase you from my life. I don't love you. I never will. For the love of God, please go away.”

She stares back at me, her bleached hair sitting on her shoulders.

“I knew you still felt something for me!"

I throw my hands up. “I give up! I'm going back to sleep. This must be a bad dream!"

Wendy stands, brushing various crumbs from her shirt.

“You want me to get rid of her?”

I gesture towards the unwanted individual. Have at it, I silently say.

Wendy comes up to her, making Elizabeth stand proudly.

“You're super pretty,” She starts.

I frown. That's the opposite I was going for. Try: Go die you psycho b***h!

Cause I'm itching to use my pistol. Not gonna lie.

“I know," Elizabeth tossing her hair.

Why do I always f**k egomaniacs?

“Well, he's a seven. You're ten, you deserve better. I'm like an eight, so technically I could do better too."

Um, is this trash Hound day? After she ate my snacks she dares call me a seven? I'm a nine and a half and she knows it!

“That's true, but I love him!"

That's true?! W—what! I'm too sober for this. I get a beer. It doesn't help. And it's lukewarm.

Fuck my fridge's busted. s**t!!!

“Yeah but...we girls have to think for these mindless animals. If you settle, you'll never be happy. I had a friend, Sarah, she loved this guy. They got married. Now their divorced. She was an eight. He was a five."

Elizabeth gasps.

Beer won't do this. In fact, f**k alcohol. I need something stronger. Anyone got some coke? No? Okay.

“Besides, he can't afford you, and he's ungrateful. You know how guys are."

She looks at me, Elizabeth following her gaze as I chug a beer in my underwear in my kitchen.

Her eyes lose their hearts.

“They only get worse with age,” Wendy whispers with disgust.

I roll my eyes.

“How long can love last when the abs go away, and he's got a pudge and a beer that seems glued to his hands."

I guess I do a good job looking like an ape, because Elizabeth smiles nervously.

“I... I think we should...take a break. Indefinitely.”

“Oh my,” I say flatly. “My heart is breaking."

Wendy puts her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, walking her to the door. “You'll find someone worthy of you. And whoever marries this chump will see you one day, and be envious. All men are beasts, but at least you won't be married to him.”

Elizabeth smiles. “Thank you. I almost made a big mistake. By the way, aren't you dating him?"

Now I'm a mistake? Why don't I just crawl back to the f*****g birth canal, would that make you happy?

“Oh, he's my cousin. I would never marry him."

You don't have to sound so sure. I'm a catch.

“Well, bye now! Bye, Alexander!"

Wendy locks the door, walking back into the room.

“You hurt my feelings," I say flatly. She kisses my cheek, stealing my beer, taking a swig.

“Well, you interrupted Voltron. So...fuck you.”

“f**k you too!” I shout, fed up. She looks at me over the couch, sticking out her tongue.

I laughed. “You're such a child.”

“Then what are you?”

A pedophile? Oh God. That's...that's a scary feeling. Yeah, it is.

“Who was she?”

I shrug. “She's the one who asked my to cut her c**t off.”

Wendy shrinks. “f**k. You dodged a bullet.”

“You're telling me!”

I plop down on the couch, stealing my beer back.

She puts her head in my lap, and we watch Netflix.

“Your name's Alexander?”

I wince. “Your name's Collette? I'll call you CoCo."

“Dont...call me CoCo.”

“Then don't call me Daddy when I eat you out from behind.”

“Impossible!”

“Exactly, Coco. Exactly.”

“You're such a dork,” She snorts.