Little runts. I hate them all. Why did they have to make trouble now? Just when things were going well? Just when I had a job? Just when I could almost forget that I'm not one of those precious little Tarella snobs, destined for fame and fortune?
They just had to bring back the memories.
I remember tee-hee, tee-hee, th-th-th, THE big one, the one who could just pull out that demonic voice right out at that merchandise section at Woolworths. The memory just jumped straight into my mind, and I can still see the blood, dripping right off the bubblers. It looks like what I did didn't hurt her, though. Those perfect white teeth and little red tongue could still say "What's that word, Vonny Cooney? Come on, Vonny Cooney! You're a lazy girrrl!" in that voice. I want to forget it, forget it all. I wish I could just go far away and leave Mum behind and not worry about the kids. I wish I could just leave everyone behind. Let everyone scream and shout "I hate Vonny Cooney!" or whatever they want.
After all, I suppose everyone hates Vonny Cooney. So do I.
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