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I Do Like Steak

26th August, Story #239/366

By L.C. SchäferPublished about a year ago 3 min read
I Do Like Steak
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

They say my mother experienced an accelerated pregnancy. She went for a run in the morning with flat, toned tummy, and was groaning and sweating over a grossly swollen belly by teatime. I slipped out before supper, cracking her pelvis.

I know, because I could hear thoughts. I could bend thoughts, as well. Before the Chip.

I'm too strong. I hurt people. That's why I live here. They Cage me here, in this quaint suburb, so I can't hurt anyone. I'm happier this way. I think. The Red Memories sponged away.

There's no time before my powers. They're written in my DNA. That'd make even the best human arrogant, surely. Eroding their compassion. Their humanity.

These might not be my thoughts. They could be putting them in my head. That, I feel, is one step too far. I'll consult Mother about it.

She lives here, in town, since Father died. It's a relief, sometimes, to drive over to her semi-detached home and see her wave at me from the neat green lawn, her dark hair wind-tugged under a floppy hat and a smile stretching her mouth. Normal. It's nice to pretend to be normal.

I visit her. Her kitchen is exactly as I remember, except it isn't. It's a polished version it. There's details that don't match with other details. Like: that's a modern fridge. But I remember that dog from when I was a baby. The thought trickles away like fine sand before I can get a good grip on it.

Sometimes, I see another version of her behind that smiling, perfect mask. Hair in disarray, face contorted in horror, blood pouring. As soon as I see it, it's gone, and I'm left to wonder if I've gone mad. Did they do something to me? Is this all part of the Cage? Like the steak, always cooked to perfection?

I wonder, (and I wonder if I wondered this before): did They Cage me? Or did I put me here, and put these strange barriers round my mind? Because there's a little bit of human in here after all, and I don't want to hurt people?

Where did that thought come from?

What was I saying?

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Author's Note:

Word count: 366

(NB. This excludes the title, subtitle, and authors note.)

A Year of Stories: I'm writing (and submitting, here) a story every day this year. This one continues my 239 day streak since 1st January.

Please consider lending your support to the other creators on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They're putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

The story behind the story: this is an idea I had for the Epic Beginnings Challenge. I'll try to edit this one and submit a more streamlined version to the challenge.

Thank you

Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed!

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

Here's a recent Top Story of mine:

A recent Runner Up placement for one of my Wanky Poems:

Another recent challenge entry:

My look back at July:

My reflections on the recent nonet challenge:

My current Dollar Challenge:

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Thank you again!

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About the Creator

L.C. Schäfer

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Comments (5)

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  • Cindy Calderabout a year ago

    An intriguing tale, to be sure!

  • Mark Gagnonabout a year ago

    He appears to be confused and not in a good way. I enjoy your characters, L.C.

  • John Coxabout a year ago

    This story is a contender, LC! Fun, scary, freaky and awesome!

  • Cathy holmesabout a year ago

    Sounds like Satan with a human mom.

  • This gives me an Inception vibe, except if you did it on yourself and could no longer tell if and how you did Inception on yourself. Lots of fascinating Psychological things you could do with this!

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