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"Mommy?"

Tiny Todd Casil stood as tall as he was able to on his tippy toes and peered over the edge of his mother's bed. Mommy was asleep again, and she was always hard to wake up. Nevertheless, the wide-eyed little boy, her son, attempted to get her attention with calls, pokes, and gentle tugs on her white, cotton nighty. He'd had a bad dream about that scary neighbor man again. He'd been having those alot, even though Johnny had gone on a vacation. They had been getting worse, too. Mommy could make it better, though; he was sure. Mommy could fix anything, if she tried.

"Mommy? Mommy, wake up!"

Todd fell from his toes and back onto the soles of his feet. His face twisted into discouraged little scowl, and his arms hung at his sides. It wasn't working... Mommy was fast asleep. He guessed it had something to do with all of the funny little pills she took, all the time. She had been doing it more and more often lately, and as a result, it seemed, she was sleeping more and more, too. Todd didn't like it when that happened, because it usually meant that Daddy would yell at him, or have another one of those little 'talks' with him. Todd hated those talks... They made him feel bad. Todd knew that his daddy loved him, and he hated when he disappointed him. All he wanted was for his Daddy to be happy... If only he could do a better job...

Todd sighed. His father was working... He probably wouldn't want to be bothered. But Todd really wanted someone to console him.... He decided he'd try to wake Mommy up again; she usually didn't yell or anything. And she wasn't really doing anything important, not like Daddy. Yeah... Mommy was the best choice, Todd thought. Upon coming to his conclusion, the wide-eyed child got back up onto his toes and tried again.

"Mommy! Mommy, it's me... Pleeeeease wake up?"

As he'd done before, Todd tugged, pulled, and poked. It still wasn't working. It was weird; Mommy'd never taken this long to get up, before!

It was then that the door creaked open, and a tall, bearded man with glasses stepped inside of the room. It was Todd's Daddy. His face was shrouded in the door's shadow, but Todd could tell he was annoyed. He'd heard the noise his son had been making trying to wake his mother from the study. "Todd, what the hell are you doing? I'm trying to work. You want to eat, don't you?"

Todd dropped back to his feet once again, this time turning so that his body faced the door. Hands hanging limp at his sides, just as before, the child looked at his feet as he apologetically began to explain his actions to his abrasive father. "Sorry, Daddy. I had a bad dream, and...-"

Todd was cut off by a gasp from his father, who, ignoring his son's explanation for the noise, ran over to the side of the bed and flipped his wife over onto her back. "Holy shit... Holy shit!" Shaking his son's limp mother violently, he yelled and pleaded for the woman to wake up. Just as when the tiny boy had tried, the man's attempts did not prevail. Pulling her into a sitting position, Todd's father tried to look into the eyes of his dark-haired wife. Her head rolled back, her eyes were wide open, and her jaw hung loose. There was no movement.

Todd was pressed up against the wall now, not quite sure of what was going on. Why wasn't Mommy moving? Why was Daddy being so crazy? The small boy saw his father's grip on his mother's shoulders loosen; his tense hands go limp. Eventually, he released her altogether, and her body fell back against the bed's headboard as though it was a rag doll. Eyes full of anger, the man turned to face his petrified son. "She's dead... She's fucking dead, and it's your fault!", Todd's father accused loudly, as he extended an index finger in the boy's general direction, to emphasize the point.

"But... But Daddy, Mommy's...-" Todd could hardly get four words in before his father continued with his cruel, vocal accusations; hopping off of the bed and cornering the child before him.

"You fucking killed her! She overdosed on those God-damn drugs of hers and you made her do it, you dependent little shit! Ever since you were born; that's all she ever did! Take those fucking drugs! It took eight years... Eight years, but you finally did it! You murdered your fucking mother!"

Tears welled up in the eyes of the little boy. He hadn't done anything... He really hadn't... All he'd done was try to wake her up... Why was his Daddy blaming him? He didn't want her to die; he never did... But she was gone, and Daddy said it was his fault... Why? "But Daddy, I didn't...-" Todd shook his head violently and tried, through choking tears, to defend himself.

Smack!

Todd fell to the ground, and put a tiny hand to his face. His father had hit him... He'd never done anything like that before... "Daddy, I... I...", Todd tried again to speak, but couldn't through violent hiccoughs and the salty rivers of tears which continued to stream down his face at full force.

"Shut up, Todd. I've had enough of you. I've fucking had enough of you. I fed you, I clothed you, I put a roof over your head... I did everything for you, for eight fucking years, and this is how you repay me? By killing your mother?! No. Fuck, no." Looking down hatefully at his crying son, who now was sitting on the floor with one had pressed up against his raw and tender cheek, the bearded man raised his foot. He growled angrily as he brought it down on the side of his son. A cracking sound ensued, and it was obvious that the ribs of the child had broken, or at least been cracked.

Todd shrieked with pain, and choked once again, this time on the coppery-tasting substance that had slowly risen into his throat, and was slowly but surely trickling out his mouth. Why was Daddy doing this? He was supposed to love his son... He did love his son... He loved him...

"I told you to shut up!" Once again, Todd's father raised his foot and brought it down on the small child, this time on his head. Todd screamed again as the toe of his father's boot hit his temple, bruising the flesh and rattling the brain. The man repeated this action, again and again, until his son's screaming ceased and but a dull whimper could escape his bloody lips.

Everything was blurry... Everything was swirling together, and Todd could barley make out the basic shapes of the items in the room anymore. Why was Daddy hurting him? Why did he want him to die? He hadn't done anything... He really, really hadn't... All he'd done was touch her! The swirling blur wasn't getting any better, and the light was fading. It seemed as though everything was fading. What was going to happen to him? Where would he go? Now his other senses were dulling down, along with his sight... His father's heavy breathing was growing ever fainter, and all Todd could seem to hear clearly was his own slowing heartbeat, ever losing it's momentum. He was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes, too... Then his arms and legs, and eventually his whole lower body. Everything below his head was numb; as though it wasn't there.

Todd's tears continued to flow, as he struggled to focus on his father. He was so sorry... So sorry about everything he'd ever done to make his Daddy sad. All he'd wanted to do was make him happy... That's all. But he couldn't do it right. He just couldn't. Like everything else in his life, it got messed up. Everything was black now, and Todd was completely numb. His heartbeat had slowed to a sickening crawl, and the end was obviously near.

Trying to move his lips, Todd slurred his last words. Blood and mucus spilled from his mouth as he did so, but it didn't matter, now. Taste was non-existent, in his world. He was going to die... But his Daddy had to know...

"I'm sorry, Daddy... I love you..."

And then he died; just has he had been born- Cold, frightened, alone, and un-loved. Though he had never wanted to die, maybe... Just maybe, after eight long years, this was the thing that would make his Daddy happy again...

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Ah. I can't believe I wrote that... SQUEE! ;; Blech... My apologies about the conclusion. It just isn't good... But, it's 1:00 AM, and I'm tired. Do hope you liked... Well... Not LIKED, but you know what I mean. Poor Squee... It was painful to write that... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go off to cry... ;.;