Daddy, aren't you proud?
by Ashna C.
I was running for dear life. Come on Liz, this is your time to shine. You've trained for this, I thought to myself.
I ran and ran until I felt the yellow tape rip across my body. First, yes. Daddy will be very proud.
The croud screamed and cheered even in my head all the way home. I hope mommy made something good. I was very hungry and happy. My parents would always appreciate my hard work from this day.
We got home and I ran to my bedroom. I placed the trophy above and went to gloat to my brother. I knew he hated me for this but I was happy. He always was a jealous boy.
Then I felt a blunt shot to my head and all went black.
"Here son, your sister is gone and you deserve this more than her. She was a greedy girl."
"Aw, thanks pa, I know it!"
"Your mommy and daddy want you to know how much you mean to them. Here, have this trophy,"the mother added.
The three of them talked and talked for hours about the dead sister and the prize.
They all went to sleep that night dreaming of nothing more than their hateful sister or daughter. She only wanted to be loved and appreciated.
That night, the father woke to a shrill sound. As he searched the room, his wife was asleep. Until he realized the blood seeping from her head. He looked to the door and there was his daughter, holding her trophy.
She came to him steadily chanting a championship song. The father froze and the the girl raised the object and started beating him, still chanting.
While she chanted, she paused. She looked down and said; "Daddy, aren't you proud?"