You are Angel, and mummah is trying to give you hurties again! You can’t take it anymore! You don’t even want to feed your babies, you just don’t want hurties anymore!
“NU! Nu gib Angew huwties, dummeh mummah! Am suuuu tiwed! Nu wan dummeh babbehs aneemowe!” You snap, biting your mummah as hard as you can and running off.
“Angel, you don’t want babies anymore?” Your mummah gasps, running over to snatch you up and hold you.
“Yeh, dummeh! Hay-te babbehs! Hay-te aww babbehs! Nu wan aneemowe!” You confirm, peeing yourself slightly at the look on your mummah’s face.
“Then, I don’t need you anymore.” What does she mean by that!? You’re her angel! You’re Angel! You don’t want to go back to the meanie shelter!
“Nuuu! Nu wan gu bai-bai!” You cry as your mummah straps you down to the table and raises a sharp thing over one of your leggies.
“NuuuUUUUUUU! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE! SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!!” You screech as two of your leggies get hacked off, your mummah taking a weird burnie-thingie to the stumps.
“Nu… Nu tay-ke wast weggie… Pwease…” You beg, your mummah not listening as your last leggie gets chopped off, your stump being burned again.
“Huu-huu… Wan die…” You whisper to yourself, sobbing and not being able to even cover your face with your hooves anymore.
“Now, your babies are getting sketti since they can all eat solids now. You’re going to be a part of that dish.” Your mummah cautions, throwing your limp body in a big bowl and turning on the stove.
“Babies! Sketti is ready! Come get it!” Your mummah shouts, covering you in a large amount of the sauce and noodles.
“Sketti! Wub hoomin mummah! Whewe fwuffy mummah?” One of the babies asks as you trying to call out for them, your voice too weak from crying to let out any identifiable noise.
“Eat up! Go ahead!” Your mummah says to the babies as they start eating the sketti, and you in the process.
You try to scree, but it’s not working! Why won’t the babies listen!?
“Haff… Haff…” You pant quietly, the amount of noodles and sauce preventing you from breathing.
The world goes even darker than it did when you were covered in sketti, and the last thing you hear is the babies giggling happily.
AN: What do I write next? Comment!