Aunt Gertrude

A short story by
Angela Raines

"How's the Little Parasite today?" Aunt Gertrude asked as she walked into the kitchen.

I hated to be called a parasite. She constantly called me that. It was not my fault my parents got themselves killed. She took me in when no one else would. She never stopped telling me the story and making me feel less than a person. I was constantly hearing her say "You will do what I say. If it weren't for me you would be dead. You should be thankful instead of complaining about what little work I have you do."

It was so bad that I heard those words in my sleep. Little Parasite,
Little Parasite. My name was Charity. Why couldn't she just call me by my name? "Little Parasite, you better get this kitchen cleaned up. The floor is a mess."

I looked at her and the next thing I knew she was swinging the birch switch again.

"I told you not to look at me. I can't stand the site of you. Now get back to work."

I dropped my eyes and moved to mop the floor. As I sloshed the water on the floor I got a glimpse of myself. I didn't see anything that bad about me. As I looked at my reflection I heard Gertrude heading my way. She sounded like a freight train, puffing and puffing. I wondered what had her so worked up.

I took the mop and sloshed more water on the floor. Then I heard her right in front of me. I dared a glance and saw her start to slip on the water.

"Give me your hand!" She demanded.

I put my hand out, but it was wet and her hand slipped from mine. As she started to fall I looked into her eyes. She looked frightened. I felt a surge go through me. She was scared and falling. I started to put my hand out, but then I pulled it back. As she went down she was cursing me.

"My name is Charity, say it. Charity, Charity, Charity!" Each time I said my name it became louder and louder as I watched her fall.

As her eyes rolled back in her head I heard her whisper, "Little Parasite."

This work of fiction is the sole property of the author Doris McCraw. No portion may be used without the authors permission. The story may be passed along with this information contained in its entirety.

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