Three days later, Homer is on his way to pick up Bart. He speeds down the road not signaling for anyone. Cars honk and others yell at the man for being so stupid. Homer sticks his head out the window shaking a fist.
"Shut up. This is an emergency! My son could be being raised by zombies or worse, one of Flander's dead ancestors."
Fear was prominent in his voice. Frustrated by the honking the man caused, he drives through a corn field as a shortcut. He stuck his head out the window. He was looking out at the graveyard trying to spot the ten year old he left to fend for himself. He cups his hands over his mouth starting to call for the boy.
"BART! BART! I'M SORRY DADDY FORGOT YOU."
He looked down after shouting his name repeatedly ten times. He panted placing his hands on his legs. Yelling was a lot of work for the obese man. He frowned glancing up just in time for him to see a figure. He did a high pitched scream breaking quickly. He had a smile when he noticed the figure was his son.
"Bart you're alive!"
He exclaimed running to throw his arms around him. The boy did not respond staring off at the blinking car lights. Homer blinked dumbly scratching his head.
"Uh, what do you say I make it up to you, by buying you a squishy?"
Bart glanced over at Homer.
"No. I want to go home."
There was something unsettling about the way he had responded. He expected him to call him disrespecful names or at least say more. His son did have the biggest mouth after all.
Snapping out of his thought, Homer looked down at him.
"Okay son. Anything you want."
He gets back in the car with the boy. The drive home was excruciating. Homer tried to talk to Bart but in response, all he would say, "Just drive." He had never been so scared of his son in his life. Once they pulled up to the door Homer unlatched his seatbelt running for the door. Marge was waiting with Maggie in her arms as was Lisa. The first thing Marge did was plant kisses and a hug on Bart.
"Oh my Special little guy! I was so worried." He looked up at her.
"I am here Mother."
Homer was standing close to his wife nervous about his behavior. Marge was scowling in rage at Homer's stupidity in letting their son "camp out". Lisa walked over to her brother. She too noticed he was acting off in personality.
"Bart are you okay?"
She studied the dark circles around his eyes.
"You look like you haven't slept any."
Bart placed a hand on her shoulder. She shivered at the cold touch. It was as if he was touching her with an ice cube.
"I am fine Lis."
He was smirking pulling his hand away. She frowned. Usually when she had studied him, he had this look of mischief. Not this dark cold sinister yet unfeeling look. Her poor Mom was oblivious to the new personality since she was happy to see him. She followed the others inside, staying away from her brother. He sat down at the table waiting for dinner, oddly still quiet. Lisa raised her eyebrow staring into the kitchen.
He looked at his plate staring at his reflection. He traces his finger around the outer edge. Lisa crouches down when he stares in her direction. She made mental notes of how he was behaving. She always enjoyed studying living organisms but, this was not for enjoyment. She purely wanted to know what had happened. Anything relating to the deceased was never good. She froze when her Mom had spoke,
"Lisa you can play hide and seek with Bart after you help me with this ham."
She glanced back and forth, with worry on her face. Bart smiled over at her.
"Yeah, sis. Go help Mom butcher the pig."
She was even more disgusted with him when he had mentioned pig. As a vegetarian she found it morally wrong. She stands up dusting off her dress.
"Mom you know i am against eating meat. Which also includes helping prepare it."
Marge stared at her blinking. "Oh. Nvm you can go back to playing with Bart."
She felt her heart thump at the mention.
"Oh but I can make us some tea, hehe."
She ran to the cupboard pretending she was having trouble finding the mix. Bart was staring over at her, his hand beside the carving knife. She climbs into the cupboard reaching for the mix. She receives a kick from the other end, she screams falling inside. Marge was busy lecturing Homer in the living room not hearing a peep except her husband's loud voice. Bart pulled out the lock he had taken from his short's pocket, placing it on the wooden prison. He pokes the carving knife through the crack. She screams scooting herself to the dimmer part.
"Bart! What are you doing?! If this is a prank, it's not funny. You could really hurt me!"
She stared nervously at the crack. Her brother's pupil was peering in at her.
"I know."
He responded scratching the knife beside her. She shrunk away squeaking in terror.
"Mom!"
She hoped her cry would be heard. Luckily for her it was. Marge held a hand up to her mouth in surprise and fear. Her little guy was handling a tool of murder. She takes the knife away from him.
"This is not a toy or funny to joke with."
Bart simply nodded. He walks back over to the table sitting back in his chair.
"Okay I won't play with it."
He was thinking he really wanted play with his sister soon. Maybe during recess they could schedule a play date. Marge raised her eyebrow hearing a loud tap.
"What's that noise?"
She bent down looking at the cupboard. She opened up the cupboard yet again surprised to see her other baby.
"Lisa what are you doing in there?"
She crawled out breathing in the fresh air. It felt good to fill her lungs with it after being confined. After she got a good amount breathed in she stood and pointed at her brother.
"He caged me in here like i was an animal he was testing!"
Bart neither backed himself up or tried to make a scene.
"I'm sorry Lisa. I wanted to see how long you could breath."
His apology was not plausible. There was not the tiniest hint of remorse in his voice. She glared in frustration at him. She was admittedly scared but refused to show Bart her weaker side.
"Let's see how long until your nose bleeds."
She threatened him with a fist. She didn't really like violence, but when it came to her brother. It was hard not to use physcial contact. Bart stared at her fist shrugging. Marge sighed at them wishing they would get along. Lisa growled stomping off to her room. Bart watched laughing bitterly, quiet. He would break her sooner or later. He would break many "eggs" as a matter of fact. Marge hands him his made up plate. He pokes a fork into the meat tearing into it. Homer hesistantly pokes his head around the corner.
"Marge could i eat my ham in the living room?"
He asked twittling his thumbs glancing at her. Marge murmured in response. He came in with his head down. He scooted his seat a few inches away from the boy. Bart looked over at him.
"Homer we should eat as a family. Scoot closer."
Homer whimpered not sure how he wanted to respond.
"You know boy, I don't say it often. But I love you very much. Don't hurt me."
He whispered. Bart turns his head away from him staring up at the stairs.
In her room, Lisa was writing a survival log into her diary. She wrote about the incident with the cupboard. She could not believe Bart would try to harm her. Usually his pranks were meager, not... She taps her pencil.
"Let's see, what word could i use to describe this?" She pressed the eraser to her lower lip continuously tapping it.
She gasped lifting her pencil in the air.
"Cruel!"
She smiled at her clever brain but was back to frowning thinking of Bart. She turned her seat lowering her eyes. She didn't think she would loose her brother this early in her life. She just knew the people of Springfield would tear him up like old newspaper. She wanted to sob but she knew tears would not make the situation any bearable. She decided that she would stay upstairs. She would definitely come down tomorrow. She never liked to miss school. A pit in her heart or not.
