IT'S ALIVE!
-Cherry Cuntea
She finished! After painfully sewing and duct taping random scraps of holey shirts from former vicars and saints, the buttons from an old ww2 military shirt as eyes. Raggity arms and haphazard legs! Permeated markered mouth in a not so straight, quite destructive smile— it was completed! The young blue eyed, mop topped girl had finished her creation. Now all she needed was lightning! In her little red wagon the slumped doll fell, tossed on top of her solid red kite with a key attatched to the string. Pulling it out into the middle of the outback. The clouds were rolling in. Dark, ominous storms invading for the first time in months and she was prepared. She was determined. Her hard work and dedication to the creation would pay off. Her folks thought she was mad. Maybe she was. At 9 she was a smart mouth, queer eyed socio-path who took very little shit. However, this was her moment. Her moment to—-
She reached the spot. The only tree within a quarter of a mile of her home. She knew this is where it would live. Sliding the wagon under the tree she set to work. Carefully attatching her homemade doll to the back of the kite the winds were beginning to pick up. The thunder began to pound the sky. Lightning clammering in a soprano appeal. FLASH! The rain began to pour as she ran, holding tight to her kite. Picking up speed to get it into the air, her short legs carried her as the winds came in hand as if at her command. Soaring, the kite flew into the air. Lighting igniting the sky as the water plummeted to earth. Soaking her. A smirk across her young face as she cackled with each clap. The key was the trick. In a book. And the tree would be the trigger. She knew. Oh she knew. Suddenly as if on cue BAMM! SNAP! An electric surge powered through her and her little hands. Fire. yes. she saw fire as she flew back from the sheer natural force. Her kite had been hit, and was starting to go up in flames. Her head hit the ground hard as she saw it fly away. A look of rage crossed her eyes. All her work ended in one moment. She yowled into the storm as the windows picked up. Picking her dejected self off the now wet earth she carried herself back to the tree to fetch her wagon. All her effort and for nothing. As she began to grab the handle she suddenly felt something touch her. Her eyes snapped to the side, ready to pounce on whatever cunt bag would dare—A stuffed koala grinned at her. Yes, not a real one, a stuffed one, button eyes, a chaotic smile. It stood grinning with the light of the storm. "Hey mate, Camp Koala. Guess you're me mum?" He spoke to her. She smirked slapping him upside the head, "Call me mum again and I'll finish what the storm started." Her voice carried as she grabbed Camp Koala and through him in her wagon to carry him home. "Rebecca." She turned and looked at him, just as the rain began to take heed, "My name is Rebecca."
