The Claw

Continue reading at your own risk. The below passages contain descriptions of images that may not be appropriate for all audiences. Violence to children and harm to humans.

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Yay! Father is home! He steps through the front door and his smile brightens my day. He's a good father. Always plays with me when he gets home. He has lots of time for me. He listens to me and he talks to me like I am a real person, not just a kid. I love him dearly!

His smile seems different today. Wider. More toothy. His face looks strangely waxy. He must have had a very hard day. The storm outside has lasted all day, with rain, and lightning, and thunder. Mother was nervous all day. She wouldn't let me go out to play in the rain. After I threw a short fit, the lightning and darkness between the bright bursts made me not want to go out in the storm to play after all. It looked like night all day, but now Father is home and we will be safe and all will be well.

Father removes his overcoat and tosses it toward the coat tree by the door. The coat falls to floor in a heap. It isn't wet. Odd. But then Father wants to play! Yay! He gently tosses me onto the couch. Mother protests for a moment but then backs into the kitchen quickly away from Father. Father follows while I recover from being thrown on the couch. I do not follow. Father and Mother will be kissing and doing Parent things that I don't want to see. A scream comes from the kitchen. Father must be tickling Mother again.

A pan falls to the floor in the kitchen. A crunching sound follows. Father returns to the living room with a big smile, Mother is just behind him, also smiling now. Both of them seem so happy.

Father suddenly makes a claw with his right hand, fingers crooked and stiff, he grabs at his forearm with the other hand. Yay! Our favorite game! Father pretends the claw has a life of its own and it drags him towards me and I squeal in delight! "The claw!" says Father is an almost shout! "Its gonna get you!" He pounces onto the couch and the claw hand struggles against his other hand, reaching for me, but Father stops it just short, fighting it back. I roll over on the couch, scooting away, getting away from the claw even though I know it is goning to get me!

It does get me! I squeal with laughter! It tickles me on the side and I squirm. I burry my face in a pillow and squeal more. Suddenly the tickle stops tickling and the claw digs in harder than normal. "Oww!" I stop playing and look up at Father's face. It is no longer Father's face. Instead a Halloween like mask of some gross scary insect looks down at me. It is still Father's body, and his hair framing the insect face! The claw pinches harder and I scream for real now. Mother joins us on the couch, one hand up and formed into a claw, but a real claw, pinchers like a monster from TV. Mother's face is an insect mask now also. I squirm and try to get away, my face toward the big window looking out on our pourch and into the storm that continues to rage in the now dark yard and beyond. Faces are in the window. Faces that look like Halloween masks of insects. I feel the pinch of both Father's and Mother's claws now. I hear my screams and the clicking and clacking of insects above the rain and thunder.