Oh Baby!

“It’s a girl!” Exclaimed Adele Jones, a 53-year-old midwife whose hobbies were feminist yarn bombing and masturbating to the comments section of K–Pop videos on YouTube. Baby Katniss’s eyes shot open and she spoke in a voice as clear as vodka.

“Bitch, your breath reeks like a Ziploc bag full of rotten mince, you been suckin’ on corpse dick or what?

Instantly furious, Adele shot back

“How dare you, you pudge faced shit! I’ve half a mind to ram you right back up your mother’s manky pussy!”

“Go on then, mum’s shredded cunt and arsehole situation is a tropical paradise compared to your goat bukkake breath!”

Adele leaned over baby Katniss and spat on her tiny newborn face. Adele’s yellow mucus mingled with the blood and miscellaneous childbirth sludge that Baby Katniss was already coated in.

Baby Katniss grinned cheekily,  winked at the camera and screamed “I THINK I’M GONNA LIKE IT HEEEERRE!!!!”

Brenda’s Tiny Cage

One day, Brenda woke up in a tiny cage.

“Good morning Brenda, you are in a tiny cage” explained a disembodied voice.

“But why?” Brenda asked as she rubbed her bleary eyes.

“You are trapped,” the voice continued, ignoring Brenda’s question “and if there is any way of escaping, we’re not going to tell you about it.”

Brenda started to panic, her breathing quickened and she began to hurl her body against the walls of the cage.

“Let me out!” she screamed “LET ME OUT!”

The cage grew smaller.

“The cage is growing smaller,” offered the voice in a helpful tone “and it will continue to do so any time that you struggle.”

Brenda forced herself to slow her breathing. “Okay,” she thought “this isn’t so bad, I just have to keep still and accept my fate. I can live like this, there is still so much beauty in this new little world of mine” and she quietly admired a ray of sunlight that was illuminating some specks of dust as they gently danced in the cool spring air, just outside of her little cage.

For a few months, Brenda was content.

Sometimes, she even felt an incredible joy that made her feel grateful for her life. Just as often, she felt a boredom so excruciating that she wondered how she might bear it but because she knew there was no escape, she would simply bite down on her own tongue or the inside of her cheeks so that they were always covered in bloodied ulcers.

But it wasn’t such a bad life, really.

Autumn came and the cage started to shrink again.

“Why?” Brenda cried in despair as the walls pushed in so close that her organs started to squash and her spine started to snap “I played by the rules!”

The voice chuckled indulgently.

“Oh, how cute, you thought you had some control over this.”

The Vlogger

“I don’t go out anymore” she tells the camera “I’ve watched way too many people die.”

She adjusts the camera which she has sitting on a small, tabletop tripod. For a moment the autofocus shifts to a painted landscape hanging on the wall behind her, then back to her face.

“The last time I stepped outside was four years ago. I’d been holed up in my apartment for months and the claustrophobia was really getting to me, so I convinced myself I was being paranoid. I was walking to the library when a middle-aged businessman in a crappy Kmart suit passed by. We made brief, meaningless eye contact, then he stepped onto the road and was hit by a truck.”

A ginger coloured tomcat meanders on to screen, close to the camera and out of focus. She picks the cat up, holds him in her arms and strokes him while he purrs loudly.

“I didn’t feel shock when it happened, only the vaguely nauseated boredom that comes from desensitisation. He’d been crushed from the belly button down, smeared across the hot summer asphalt in violent reds, rusty browns, hints of buttercup yellow and bluish purple. He was still alive and had a look on his face like a stupid animal, it reminded me of a daddy long legs spider whose abdomen has been crushed under merciless Reeboks but who continues to attempt to walk, despite being glued to the ground by its own guts.

Some people ran to him and when a blonde, young woman knelt down to speak to him and take his hand, he must have seen the look on her face because his eyes filled with horror and he started screaming. He died before the ambulance arrived.”

She reaches for something offscreen, a book which she displays to the camera.

”Self-help for fuckwits. Yeah I continued to the library and checked this book out but I knew I wouldn’t be back. I don’t go out anymore because every time I do, I see somebody die. I don’t know why it happens, I don’t know if I cause it or if fate is a sick pervert who wants a witness but I just don’t go out anymore.”

As she leans in towards the camera, the cat jumps off her lap.

”I’m not sure why I’m posting this to YouTube, everyone will probably think I’m crazy but I guess I’m wondering if anyone else has experienced anything like this… Please let me know if you have, in a twisted way, I think it’d be comforting to know I’m not alone.”

She turns the camera off.

The comments on her video read:

”nice tits”

“wtf lol I’m in the weird part of the Internet again” and

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