A PpG 'alternate reality' fan fiction
By I am a good fighter
DISCLAIMER: Powerpuff Girls created by Craig McCracken and all characters associated with the show are owned by Cartoon Network
Story idea adapted from the novel 'Replay' (c) 1986 by Ken Grimwood
This story is rated PG-13
Dear Diary, my question WAS answered instantly. My family was there, alive. I hadn't sentenced them to the endless cycle of dying and living. But my joy was short-lived. All my mental preparations for seeing them again were a waste of time. I freaked.
It was the Friday before Thanksgiving, 1999, November the 19th. We had just turned six years old the day before. We were all sitting in the living room watching 'Puppet Pals'. I was leaning against Professor and Buttercup was sitting to my right. Bubbles was at the other end of the couch and Professor had his arms around both of us.
Of course, they had no idea what I had done to them; and I knew that but I couldn't stop myself. I just felt like I had to apologize and I threw my arms around Professor; then I jumped off the couch and bear hugged each of my sisters. Words were pouring out of me but I don't remember any of what I said and I'm sure I wasn't making any sense.
Buttercup didn't appreciate the sudden display of affection and she shoved me away.
"Get offa me, Blossom, I'm trying to watch TV! Geez, what is wrong with you?"
Bubbles just stared in confusion, but Professor quickly stood up, a worried expression on his face.
"Blossom, what is it? What's the matter?"
I was hovering between them and the TV and I must have looked awful, because they all came toward me. I suddenly felt soaked and when I looked down, I was horrified to see that I was covered with blood. When I looked up, Professor was reaching for me, oblivious to the fact that he was bleeding to death from the kitchen knife buried in his chest. Bubbles was floating toward me, blood pouring from a dozen wounds.
I backed up, trying to get away, squeezing my eyes shut. Some small part of my brain was telling me that it wasn't real, that I'd been spared seeing the horror of my crime when I did it, only to relive it now. It didn't do any good. When I opened my eyes I was met with the hideous sight of Buttercup's head, floating in mid air. Her body was still on the couch, blood squirting from her neck.
"Geez, Blossom, you look like you seen a ghost! Blossom? Blossom!"
I don't remember anything more about that day.
