Kill Her

You sniff the air. The intruder smells foul, like sweat, like a barnyard animal. You sneak up behind her. The stupid, foolish, bitch just keeps sleeping.

From behind you slip a green razor sharp nail next to her throat. In one violent motion you slit her throat. A beautiful stream of blood shoots nearly six feet in the air. The blood seeps into the ground quickly disappearing. You feel the tree growing stronger.

You step around the tree to get a better look at the intruder. As you step around you see her face. You gasp. She has the same face as you.

While this intrigues you it doesn’t hold your attention long. The tree, your tree, has grown a flower.

The smell from the single flower permeates the room. It is like honeysuckle, cherry blossom, and peony all rolled into one wonderful intense odor. You watch as the flower begins to change. Petals drop off and a piece of fruit forms beneath it.

The fruit is the shape of an elongated pear. It is black in color and as shiny as plastic. It smells sweet and delectable. You touch the thick part of the fruit with the reverence of stroking a man’s balls.

You know it’s meant for you. You bite into it savoring the sickly sweet taste. It’s black juices drip down your chin.

You devour it quickly leaving only the pit. You know what must be done with it.