Catcher in the Rye- Creative Essay Assignment- Revised, Essay #5
Boy, was this a good one. Even Jip was pretty excited about this one, acting like a f***ing maniac if you ask me. And nobody likes a maniac. I told him that we were going to skin you, while you were asleep from the anesthetic. But the part he went all “ you’re f***ing god” on was when I told him we’d fill the tank with salt water and plop some of Gary’s great whites in there. Jip was pretty d*** clever too, because I hadn’t even given him a picture of you, and he still captured you and brought you here. I guess you could call Jip my “side-kick”. More like I’d like to kick his side. But not this time. All I did was tell him how you looked, and the address of your work building, and he got you. But I mean, that’s my Jip.
Most people spend their last breaths using useless words like help. But this was a good show, a f***ing perfect seat at a sold out horror flick. “ But I love life,” you screeched. ”Why are you doing this?” you yelped. Now that made me laugh so hard you could hear me through the two-way mirrored walls. I think that touch was better. What did you want me to say? Oh, you love life? Bingo! Let me just sing those big’old fishies to sleep for a second, pluck you out of that tank, and get you all warm and cozy. Then I’ll whisper like a momma, “ Open wide, the choo- choo train is coming in!” and spoon-feed you some god d*** chicken noodle soup. No you sick rat, you taught our Beth to hate life with your “ Yale does have the highest rates of graduates who succeed-” and,“ Sometimes you have to give up yourself for your grades” bulls***. You f***ing killed her, I swear. You should have known it was coming. Should have known in the end you’d eat your own s***.
Now I want to get one thing straight Stace. I wouldn’t do this to just any person. You had it coming all along. I only do this stuff to people that have f***ing, you know, done bad s*** to me. Not just any person. I mean I’m not a crazy a** nuts murderer who goes on rampages doing s*** for no reason. I’m not like that. I am bringing “justice to those who have wronged against me”. I think that’s from the Bible? But seriously, I make things right and equal.
Every night I watched Beth from her window. Forehead smacked right dab against the glass. But wait, wouldn’t I have to be violating the restraining order to be that close to her!? None of that legal s*** can keep my own daughter away from me. I saw Beth crying herself to sleep every night, making sure to put a pillow over her face if she thought you were going to come in. But hey, at least she let her snot get all over that modern sack of s*** you insisted was a pillow. That was from Schmeline Carcass or whatever that “high-end” store you love is called, right? I watched when she forced to put that fake smile on her face just so you wouldn’t ask her if anything was wrong at the breakfast table. But I mean, how could anything be wrong? If you run under a six-minute mile, and have a 4.0, what else could be wrong? Now, let’s investigate. Who could have done this to her? Maybe…the dog? Yeah, he was an evil one… or hmm. Maybe it was that witch who lived in your house. Yeah, that under cover witch.
I swear, those nights I thought she was going to do it, but all I could do was watch Beth stumble around on the edge of her grave. But hey, I bet those track skills of hers would have saved her, right? And the sickest part is, you knew I was dying to hold her, even if it was just for a minute. And you know what I mean when I say hold her. She’s my daughter. But, I guess you forgot that, so of-course you had to go get a f***ing law made to keep her from me. I swear Stace, you hurled her into her grave. With your own f***ing hands. You deserve to rot in h***. No, you deserve to be immortal in h*** so that the pain is never ending.
Look at you now, flopping around and crying in that tank like there’s no tomorrow. Hey, I bet that if you flopped around just enough, you’d flop yourself out of that tank! In a break from your flopping, you cough sobbed,“ Are you laughing at me?” God when you said that I swear I was this close to pi**ing my pants. The best part was that you said it like it mattered if I was laughing at you or not. The sharks started to speed up circling around you, and they came closer and closer, so I knew it was getting towards the end. I didn’t want it to end. I never really want it to end. You see, this is my favorite part. Where I can see all the regrets in their beady f***ing eyes. It’s like in one of those movies when there’s a person on their death bed using all their effort to say the most important thing in their life with their last breathe. And your trying not to laugh because they look like such a f***ing idiot. I wanted this one to go out with a bang, so I scooted to the edge of my chair and yelled,“ Anything last words, lil’ Stacy?”
But s***, the look that came over your face right then was worse than your awaiting fate. It was more screwed up than anything I have ever seen. So twisted I didn’t even recognize you.
“ Who the h*** is Stac-“ His choppers snapped that girl’s body in half.