Salt Lake City, Utah
I remember when the riots started to happen…I remember thinking, what a bunch of idiots but really not paying all that much attention to it all. I figured, it’s not happening here where I live…so, why should I really care.
The woman grabs my dad before he had a chance to swing the bat and pulls him down to the ground...as they both hit the ground hard, the crazy woman quickly lunges for my dad's throat and tries to bite him. She growls and snarls as her mouth comes chomping and snapping down as my dad tries to push her away but she doesn't let go, holding him tightly.
My mom, without thinking of her own safety but that of her husband of 22 years; quickly slides the glass door open, cracking the glass as it hits the doorframe. “Shut it!” My mother yells at me as she runs out onto the patio; grabbing a gardening hoe out of a planter on the ground, yelling; “Get away from him, you bitch!” Wow, my mom is freak’n Sigourney Weaver…I think to myself with what I have to admit is a bit of amazement that my 5’5, boney little Mormon of a mom is a crazy woman not to be reckoned with.
The crazy woman turns away from my dad, looking at my mother running towards them and snarls as my mom swings the hoe, catching the woman in the mouth and ripping through her cheek.
My mom swings again and again, coming down on her shoulder and her neck. The crazed woman loosens her grip on my dad and quickly pushes her enough to kick her off him.
My dad stumbles up onto his feet and gives my mom a half-assed hug as they notice the crazed woman get up off the ground too. My dad reaches for the hoe in my mom’s hand. “I got it babe” he says to my mom as she loosens her tight grip on the handle.
As my dad turns toward the woman with hoe in hand, my mom quickly picks up the baseball bat and stands by his side…the Bishop and the President of the Relief Society stand ready to do battle…”Don’t fuck with a Mormon.” I mumble to myself as I slide the now broken glass door closed.
I quickly turn back to my brother to tell him that mom and dad are about to kick ass but as turn, I see the front door open and my brother is nowhere in sight.
“Kyle?” I call out but he doesn’t respond back. I suddenly get a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Kyle!” I yell out, hoping for a response this time but nothing.
I take a glance out the glass door at my parents…they’re wailing on that woman like a piñata but instead of candy, it’s blood and body parts flying out of her.
“Sick.” I say with what I’m sure was a disgust expression on my face.
I turn back to the front door and reluctantly, begin my slow dreadful walk to what I fear is a nightmare in the making.
As I reach the front door, I can hear a slight whimper along with the sound of what best describes...mud...someone stomping in mud.
I reach the door and slowly stick my head out.
Oh my God! Oh my God! I yell as I see what sounded like mud was actually my brother being torn apart by our neighbors...they are eating him...they are eating him alive!
Before I could do anything or even react...apparently my scream caught their attention; I tried to back away but it was too late. They were on top of me. Oh God! They're trying to bite me!
Mom! Dad! I yell out but the back door is closed and they couldn't hear me.
I scream out again, but this time in pain...one of them bit my leg.
I'm trying to get away...I'm kicking and punching but they go unfazed...Aauughh!! I yell out again as another one bites my wrist...and another...and another. Oh God...they are eating me. I can hear myself scream but I no longer feel my body...as if I'm not in my body anymore. I hear the blood gurgle in my throat as I gasp for air...I'm dying. I'm being eaten alive and I'm dying.
*** The End ***