A few people have noticed that most of the stories in this column tend to be speculative fiction—sci-fi, fantasy, supernatural horror, etc. Some feel I should ditch the spaceships and wizards and vampires from time to time and write “normal” stuff. Okay, fair enough; here’s a “normal” story. No zombies, no magic spells, no ray guns. Just a normal little girl in a normal world. With an abnormal situation.

Don't Need Snakes

Non-SF, Non-Fantasy, Non-Paranormal

By David M. Fitzpatrick

I don’t know what they’re called, but they look like snakes to me. Don’t need snakes. Snakes are bad. I don’t care what Jenny says. Jenny’s my best friend in the whole world, and I’d do anything for her. Mostly, she knows lots of grown-up things, so I learn lots from her. But she says snakes are good and when we grow up we’ll like them. I don’t like them now and I don’t think I ever will. But all Jenny can think about is getting old enough to have them for herself. I guess if she wants that, she should have it.

Bob? Yeah, I like him. It’s just that he hurts Mommy. I don’t think he means to; he just can’t help it. Every time he puts his snake in her, she acts funny. Sometimes she moans like it hurts and sometimes she screams. Usually she just lays there while he snakes her. I can tell she doesn’t like it. And why would she do something like that, that she doesn’t like, instead of spending more time with me?

See, I’m a girl and we don’t have snakes. We have snake holes, though, where snakes go. It’s like your butt hole, but it’s different, and boys don’t have them. Jenny says her Mommy likes snakes ‘cuz so many boys put theirs in her mommy’s snake hole. I think Jenny just thinks her mommy likes it, but from what she says, her mommy makes all the same sounds mine does, and I know my mommy doesn’t like it.

So Jenny can’t wait to have snakes in her hole, but it’s nasty and I don’t want any in mine. I don’t even want to grow up if things like that are gonna happen. I know I’ll have to grow up, but when I do, I’ll marry a nice husband who doesn’t have a snake so I don’t have to worry about it.

Jenny says I’m being a baby for not liking it, and that every girl should like it and want it. But it gives me goose bumps thinking about it. Just the thought of a snake like that sticking in me down there—eww!

No, I didn’t like watching Bob snake my Mommy like that. But they never knew I watched. Bob always waited til I was in bed before he did that to her, ‘cuz I think he knew I’d try to stop him one of these times. I’d sneak out of bed and peek through the bedroom door and see them. Sometimes he’d snake her outside the bedroom, like on the living room couch or the on the playroom floor. Once he snaked her on the kitchen table. It’s sad the way he does that to her, the way he hurts her. And it keeps her from doing fun things with me.

Yes, of course I’m sure she doesn’t like it. I know for sure ‘cuz of that night. They left the light on and, while he was snaking her, I saw her bleeding from her snake hole. You can’t tell me someone likes to bleed. Jenny says girls bleed like that sometimes when they grow up, but she says they can’t do the snake thing when it happens. Jenny knows lots about that kind of thing. Even she doesn’t want to bleed like that when she grows up. If she could stay a kid and have snakes, she’d be happy forever.

That was part of why I did it. So tonight when Bob was snaking Mommy, he was cutting her with his snake and making her bleed, and that’s wrong. I couldn’t let him do it anymore. She always paid more attention to him than me anyway. Why would she like her daughter less than some boyfriend who hurt her all the time with a snake and made her bleed?

I got it from downstairs and tiptoed to Mommy’s room. This time she was on her knees and he was putting the snake in from behind her butt. He was making sounds like an animal while my mommy was crying—you know, like a monster growling and stuff. So he never saw me. He sure couldn’t hear me with all those animal noises.

You gotta understand how it works. The man pushes his snake all the way in a girl’s snake hole and then pulls it out. He was doing that and it was all covered in my poor mommy’s blood. I tiptoed closer as he was going in and out. Bob had his eyes closed, like he always does near the end. He never knew I was there. I had to time it right ‘cuz he was moving his snake pretty fast, but I did a good job.

It was just coming all the way out when I cut it off in one chop. There was more blood spraying everywhere and Bob was screaming. I think I accidentally cut his belly a little, and I kinda felt bad because of that. Like I said, I like him all right, except for the snaking he does. I didn’t want to hurt him.

Anyway, I grabbed the snake and ran away with it. There was an ambulance there and policemen when I got back later. They all wanted to know where the snake was. Mommy was mad at me, and I don’t know why. I did her a favor. She won’t have to be snaked like that anymore, and we can do things together instead.

No, of course I wouldn’t tell them where the snake was. They said they had to find it right away so the doctors could put it back on Bob. I couldn’t let that happen! He’d just snake her some more. So I hid it where nobody would find it.

Yes, I know Jenny went missing that night. I know where she is. I left her where nobody would find her. I’m not telling, and I don’t care what you do to me. She’s somewhere safe, and I gave her what she wanted. Jenny always said that when you die, you go to Heaven just the way you are when you die. Like if you get an arm cut off, you’d be in Heaven with one arm. Jenny knows a lot about that stuff. Jenny knows a lot about everything.

So I stabbed her in the heart with the same butcher knife I cut off Bob’s snake with, and I stuffed his snake up inside her snake hole. She wanted snakes so badly, and couldn’t wait to grow up and have them, but I know that was the only reason she wanted to grow up. Now she got to go to Heaven, and she’ll be just like when she died: not 1grown up, and with a snake in her snake hole forever.

So Bob doesn’t have to hurt any girls anymore. Mom doesn’t have to have snakes anymore. Jenny has one forever. And I have my Mommy. So why does everyone think I’m such a bad girl? After all, I did everyone favors.

David M. Fitzpatrick is a fiction writer in Maine, USA. His many short stories have appeared in print magazines and anthologies around the world. He writes for a newspaper, writes fiction, edits anthologies, and teaches creative writing. Visit him at www.fitz42.net/writer to learn more.