One hard kick at the kitchen window was all it took to create that pleasant, ever so soothing shattering sound. One or two swift kicks to the shin got my father on the floor and shrieking, and one last blow to the stomach shut him up. The coward.
"Twelve years later daddy! Do you remember me?!" I asked, voice dripping with glee and intimidation as I pulled off my clown mask. Ah, but surprise, surprise! There was even more of a clown underneath. I let out a large burst of laughter as my father seemed to choke on his own, useless breath. Then finally, he spoke.
"No, you worthless little- you're DEAD!" He sputtered. My only response was to grin, cracking my ghost white makeup. I then knelt down in a jovial manner, and lightly patted my father on the cheek.
"Apparently I'm not," I declared in a simple, cheerful matter, "Your mistake-ha HAAA!" I just couldn't control myself, it was all so funny! But this, this would be even better. I moved my hand slightly to grab my fathers chin with brute force.
"Do you remember how I got these scars pa? I bet you do. I bet you don't know what it felt like do you? DO YOU?" As my voice climbed in volume it acquired an almost demonic undertone. I quickly had to calm myself. I wasn't quite done yet. So, I continued, still smiling, "No. I didn't think so. But you know what, ol' pal of mine? I think I'm going to have to thank you! Because now I know what it FEELS like. I know how it feels to see someone die! - Which isn't so pleasant, at least at first glance. But do you know what else I learned, dad? I learned that it's only fun watching someone die, when you yourself are the cause..." I casually flipped a pocket knife out from under my sleeve. It shone brightly in the kitchen light. "Do you want to know how I learned this?" My father, that fiendish coward that he was, didn't answer. I stabbed him in the shoulder savagely. But he need not worry, it was just a flesh wound. He started crying anyway, of course. I chuckled, and let my voice reach a desperate scream, just this once.
"I asked you a goddamn question! Now ANSWER ME!"
My father whined through his satisfying sobs, "No, son. How? How have you learned, son?"
"It's funny you ask, " I began, my voice completely casual now, "Because I learned it...watching you! Ha HA! Now isn't that funny! Well, I think it is. I learned that killing is just so FUN, from you daddy, because when you killed my mommy, you were smiling. SMILING! Now that's just weird."
My father was shaking now, not even trying to hide it. I pressed the knife up against his cheek again just to feel the vibrations in his chattering teeth and trembling jaw.
I started speaking darkly, and seriously again, "Tonight dad, I thought I'd try killing someone. What do you say about that? Huh? Do I make daddy proud? I hope so. Because I owe my life to you, pa. Because of you, I'm always smiling!" I slipped the knife into the corner of his mouth, and he screamed pathetically.
"SMILE!" I ordered, but his unresponsive lips only gave me a little twitch. It was not even a bit satisfying.
"Daddy, I love you! Please SMILE!!" I laughed gleefully again, louder and more high pitched.
"No? Fine, then. You're no fun." The knife slipped in a little deeper.
"Why so serious?"
His last scream echoed in my ear, oddly distorted and sickeningly wet because of all the blood. Gorgeous, crimson BLOOD! I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head when I removed the knife from that new, permanent smile, and I watched them close as I stabbed him in the heart. His last moments reflected his fear, and I realized in that same moment...that I have never before felt closer to my father.
In fact, when it came to being around his ugly, terrifying face, this was the only time I truly enjoyed it.
I enjoyed it!
See, daddy? You taught me well.