Grocery shopping

Shit, I gotta do some groceries. Fuck. Running out of food. All I got is jar of mayo in the fridge and I think that’s gone bad months ago. I never cook or eat at home so I almost never do any groceries. I drink a lot of coffee, though, so I gotta restock on that.

There’s the coffee isle… Aw, fuck! I forgot my coffee machine broke. Fucking smashed the fucker. Instant coffee is fucking garbage but I’ll buy it anyway. I’ll get three large jars.

Oh, I need to buy some candy too. The little shit-stain won’t keep quiet unless you give him candy. Except now, I think the candy trick isn’t working very well. He’s not falling for it so I guess I’d better stick to my fists. I ought to gag him or, better yet, staple his lips together. Hehehe, I like that idea.

He’s a good stress relief, that kid. Loud, though. He squirms a lot, too. He squirmed a lot on his first time. I had to hold him down by his neck. It makes me smile remembering him face down on the bed, crying his fucking eyes down. I love to see him cry. He’s pretty when he cries. I love to see his nose red, brows furrowed, face twisted into a pained grimace…

… So I hurt him on purposed. I burn him with my cigarettes. I tell him he will never amount to anything. I tell him if he looked different, spoke different, was something special then I would’ve loved him. I call him a ‘cockroach’. I didn’t lie. That is what he is. I call him a ‘cockroach’ and remind him no one would ever love a roach and roaches will never make anything of themselves. They belong in dumpsters. And he bought it. And until now my words weigh heavy on his soul and his optimistic nature is obviously an act. He goes home to cry, alone and miserable. He always comes back to me because I’m the only one he has in his life. Well, there’s also that one other fucker. Maybe, I’ll convince the little shit not to hang out with him.