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Chores




As an only child, my parents usually had one of them at home with me at any given time, I was rarely left alone. However, all that changed when I turned thirteen, and they deemed me old enough to be left alone.

To celebrate this, a few nights after my birthday they decided to go out for the night, the first time they had done so in years without worrying about hiring a babysitter, leaving me alone to play the video games I had received a few days prior.

As soon as they shut the door, I made my way over to the fridge to polish off the remains of my birthday cake. On the door, waiting for me, was a sticky note in rushed cursive writing,

“Please wash the dishes for when we get back
-Mum xx”

I threw it in the bin, shaking my head and wondering if this was the first of many sticky notes to come and looked at the dishes in the sink. I held up a large plate, already half submerged in soapy water, and inspected, disgusted, at the baked on grime, and dropped the filthy plate back in the sink.

There was so much soap in the water that the basin was topped with a high layer of thick white suds. Not exactly raring to tackle the grime with a sponge yet, I decided it would be best if I left them to soak.

Sitting back in my chair with my fixings, I played, contented, until I fell asleep in front of my television. A few hours later I awoke, hastily looking at the clock. 11:30. My parents would be home in a few hours, so I decided I probably should get started on the dishes.

Back in the kitchen, the soaking must have worked, as the dishwater turned thick, and greyish-brown in colour. I removed any visible plates from the water, delicately held the corners of the basin with my fingertips, and tipped the murky water away, and out with it came several razor blades, which collected in the sink.


Credits to: http://birthdaypigeon.tumblr.com/ ‘s writing blog

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