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Ballerina Nightmare

Night after night I hear my pet crying from her cage. No matter how much time and effort I put into soundproofing the bedroom walls, her human wails still echo off of every surface. I scream and I threaten and I remind her how useless and pathetic are her cries, but she still can’t seem to stop her tears. I listen to her cry every night, and most of the time I pretend like I can’t hear her at all. That’s the best for both of us. She needs to learn that no matter how hard she cries at night, I will still never love her.

Sometimes I get really frustrated with her cries. I tell her day after day that no one will ever love her, I lock her in a cage where no compassion will ever reach her, and I make sure that I am the only sadistic mortal soul within contact. She knows that she is such a perfect sweet and beautiful pet, but I never let her forget that no one will ever love her. She makes me so angry when she cries at night. She has no right to think that I care about her pain.

I do care about her pain. I care about her pain so much that I want to drench her in all of the pain that surrounds the globe. Maybe when she feels the pain of everyone, then she will forget what it means to be happy. If she can forget joy, then I will love her. She knows this, and yet, my love will bring her joy.

I am stuck with my sad ballerina marionette and I have nothing to give her except more pain, more punishment inflicted on her human flesh. When her lonesome sorrow echoes into my bedroom, sometimes I need to go silence my pathetic girl. I beat her with a cane, I zap at her with my electric cattle prod, and I toss lit matches at her. Eventually she goes silent. Her tragic cries turn into terror. When she is stunned silent, then she stays quiet for some time. But lately her cries for pity have been happening more and more often, and I am struggling to keep her quiet without having to listen to her tormented and tortured human cries.

I love knife play, and I don't care if my pet likes it or not. She can cry in her cage all she wants, but her fear only fuels me. I poke at her with the tip of the blade, making her scream and scurry all around her cage while I leave small puncture wounds all over her bony body. She cries and begs for me to stop, but I already told her that that is not an option.

I open her cage and drag her bloody body by the hair, laughing maniacally at each of her screams. She cries out that she just want it to stop, that she just want this to be over. I stop, and I hand her the blade, taunting her, laughing at her. I scream in her tear stained face,, "Go ahead. Just fucking kill yourself already and end it all." All she can do is whimper and continue crying like a little girl. I snatch the knife back, and I kick her hard in the ribs, reminding her that I'm the adult. Her incessant crying is too much for me to bear. I grab a fistful of her hair and snap her head back. I kiss her on the cheek, and I kiss my sweet pet on the lips. Then I slit her soft throat, and I hold my little ballerina while she bleeds out.

Dedicated to my favorite freak.

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