MicroHorror

She watched the small pink clock that sat on her desk. The slow movements of the hands were mesmerizing. Alice had been doing this for exactly three hours, ever since Jacob had walked out the door, out of her life. For good, he had said.

“Well, I just don’t believe him. We don’t, do we, Mr. Gallan?” Alice asked a stuffed white cat that lay on top of her bedspread. Her bed was carefully made, each corner tucked in; no material hung off of the sides and all of Alice’s animals sat perfectly still against her many decorative pillows, except for Mr. Gallan. He was a special toy to Alice. She had had him ever since she could remember, ever since her mother had still been alive and before the beatings had taken place. But those days were far behind Alice now as she continued to stare at the still cat. His glassy blue eyes watched her carefully.

“I just don’t understand! Why would he go?” Alice screamed at the stuffed animal. She grabbed Mr. Gallan and hugged him to her chest. “He said that you were the problem. He said that I needed to get rid of you! That I was too old to keep you around… but you don’t want me to get rid of you, do you, Mr. Gallan?” Alice glanced down at the white cat cradled in her arms. For a split second, she thought she saw him shake his head.

“Jacob’s a bad man,” a voice whispered.

“No, he isn’t. He just doesn’t understand.”

“He’s bad, Alice,” the voice repeated.

Alice dropped the cat onto her bed and walked over to a large mirror that hung on the light blue wall of her bedroom. Staring at her reflection, Alice replied, “I love him, Mr. Gallan.”

“I know you do, but he’s not worth the pain, Alice.”

Alice began to tremble as she looked deep into her brown eyes; they seemed to suck her in. Jacob had always told her that she had beautiful, alluring eyes.

“He hurt you, Alice.”

“No…”

“He hurt you!” the voice yelled, sending slight chills down her back.

“He didn’t,” she insisted.

After a few moments of silence, the voice spoke again. “You know what we do to people that hurt you…”

Crying now, Alice muttered, “Please…”

“Just like your stepfather. Remember what we did to him?”

“Mr. Gallan, stop!” Alice pleaded as she placed her hands over her ears and began to hum, trying to block out what he was saying. “Not again,” she whispered strongly.

The cat’s voice grew faster and his pitch was louder as he screamed the four-letter word over and over again, sending Alice into a trance. Images of Jacob flooded through her mind, and then were all gone, erased by the word. The stuffed cat lay motionless on her bed, white fur covering the wide grin displayed on its tiny face.

Alice locked eyes with her reflection and smiled. “Kill,” she said.