Please take note of the tags. This was inspired by ‘Daddy’s mad’ by @Julie
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“Another D.” Dinah refused to look up at her father as he spoke to her. He was an intimidating man, one with broad shoulders and a big black brushy mustache. Head shaved, kept immaculately shining every day. To be honest, he scared her even when he was in a good mood. Right now? It was one of his bad moods. It was all her fault too. Not paying enough attention in math class, never doing anything right. Eyes trying to meet his but instead focusing on a bowl of fruit on the dining room table, her hands fret together.
“I tried. Really, dad! I did try.” Off in the kitchen, her mother was ignoring what was going on. If she stepped into matters he’d just end up yelling at her too. When he got home from the meat processing plant it was best to just leave him be, only talking when an answer was warranted. Tears began shining in Dinah’s eyes, the ten year old girl wringing her hands together now.
Not that her father cared. Thomas Leary wasn’t one who cared for ‘I tried’ or ‘I’ll do better next time!’. He was a man of results. Unflinchingly so. Tossing the report card down on the table as if to distance himself from the disgraceful poor marks, a fist slammed down on the table. Enough force to send a glass of water tipping down, his wife quickly bustling into the room and sopping up the puddle without a word. Too scared to look up too.
“Tell that to Jasmine. I’m sure your excuses’ll amount to a lot.” Getting up from the table and shoving the chair back, he’d get across to firmly get the girl by the shoulder and lead her off to her bedroom.
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“Teehee! Wub baww!” Chirruped a happy li’l mare named Jasmine, mane and coat the same pale yellow as her namesake. Currently she was pushing a ball across the sparsely decorated room where she and her mummah lived. There wasn’t much in the way of ‘happy’ things here. A bed, a desk, a bookcase with dusty old encyclopedias slotted onto it’s shelves. There had been posters before with happily smiling fluffies but those had been torn down awhile ago to leave clear imprints where they’d once been. (Most) of Jasmine’s toys had been confiscated awhile back too. The ball she played with was a smoothly rolled up clutch of tinfoil that didn’t even roll that well. Mummah had made it for her though and so it was important.
Speaking of which, where WAS mummah? She knew that at this time of the day, mummah should be home. How’d she know? Every time during a day, she had to make poopies. Usually waiting around until Dinah chatted with her for awhile before making the room so stinky, but it was getting really hard to hold in. Stepping into the plain grey littertray (NOT a Hasbio product, and fluffies knew because of the rainbow logo), she perked her tail up and relieved herself while wondering where mummah had gone off to. Maybe on an adventure like FluffTV. There’d once been a television in here where they could watch it together but not anymore. Fantasies of whatever her owner was up to frolicked through her mind and made her smile happy. That smile quickly disappeared as the door nudged open.
There was mummah, most definitely not on an adventure. Worse than that was daddeh. Like everyone else in the household, Jasmine was horribly afraid of Thomas. It was impossible for her to look him in the eyes too, especially now that the room smelled like poopies. Wanting to say hi to Dinah, the mare instead gave a tiny whimper. Looked at the wall and remained standing in the litter tray. Maybe if she pretended to not be here, nobody would even notice.
“Jasmine.” Daddeh directed her owner to go sit on the bed, and the fluffy looked to her pathetically. Pinned her ears down to see her knees trembling.
“Yis.” She answered finally in a low voice. It was good that she was in the litter tray because piddle ran down her leg in a hot stream. So afraid.
“You or her.” It was a question that the meanie man had posed a lot. Not always, sometimes he just came in here and left her alone. Jasmine’s bottom lip trembled. Dinah wasn’t allowed to interject and plead for her to choose herself for punishment. Not like it mattered though. Fluffies were full of wub and cared about their owners very much.
“Fwuffy.” The poor little biotoy managed to mumble out. No matter how scared she was, it was impossible to say mummah. The fluffy was punished differently than she was. A different kind of hurt that gave saddies, like having even more of her stuff taken away. What could be taken away now? Maybe the bed. Mummah couldn’t sleep on the floor. What if a buggy crawled onto her? Mummah hated buggies!
Fingers going to work at his belt buckle, Thomas unwound the belt with a whisper of leather and clinking of metal. Grabbed Jasmine up, brought her over to the bed and shoved her face down into the mattress.
“Now, I want you to remember: This is your fault. Your fluffy is going to hurt because you want to slack off at school.” Looping the belt across his hand, Thomas struck down at the fluffy’s rear end with the metal part. Thick, piercing strikes from the buckle which tore past her fluff back there and gouged open her flesh. Squealing and flailing her front legs in an attempt to get away wouldn’t work because his other hand had her face shoved down. Screams muffled out against the covers on the bed, more strikes rained down until it felt like her back weggies were going to fall off.
“DAD! STOP IT! SHE’S JUST AN ANIMAL!” Dinah screamed out, heartache and pain etched upon her face. Her words weren’t what caused him to stop but he finally did after a few more wallops. Watching the tears streaming down his daughter’s face, he took the fluffy up by the scruff of her mane and tossed her straight into the littertray. Jasmine’s face went directly into the poopies she’d just made and all she could do was lay there with choked whimpers.
“Wrong. It’s a toy. And if you want to act like a jackass, I’ll break your toy. You hear me? You want your toy to remain unbroken, SHAPE UP!” Hollering at her while getting his belt back through it’s loops. Giving the punished biotoy one last withering glare, he stomped out of the room with a slam of the door.
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Getting a few supplies first, Dinah attended to her fluffy. First a wet wipe to get the poopies off of her face. Usually when she had to use a wet wipe on the fluffy, she got all squirmy and fussy. Not trying to be bad but just the reaction she had. Right now Jasmine just laid there limply as her soiled fur was scrubbed up.
“Mummah…” Jasmine still couldn’t stand yet and likely wouldn’t be able to for at least the rest of the day. Her front legs still cinched against mummah in the best hug she could manage. By now Dinah had gotten out a bottle of peroxide and a cotton ball which would normally send her into hysterics about not wanting meddysins. Right now all she could do was lay there as mummah dubbed the cold stuff against her open wounds, wincing at just being touched. The fact that her owner was still sobbing hadn’t escaped the fluffy. It made her feel even worse.
“Nu saddies mummah. Pwease? Jamine am otay. Pwease nu cwy.” The natural empathy of a fluffy was next to nothing. She’d been the one who had got beaten only a few minutes earlier but concern wasn’t for herself, no. It was for mummah. Was there anything more important in the whole wide world than her? If the fluffy was to be asked she wouldn’t be able to give any other response. Not skettis, toysies, or even babbehs. Yes: Mummah was even more important than babbehs in her mind.
“I’m sorry, Jasmine. It’s all my stupid fault.” The medicine and blood blotted cotton ball got squeezed into her palm, leaking some of the stinky stuff out onto the floor. Doing her best to wriggle onto Dinah’s lap, Jasmine put her head on her knee and gave a faithful tail wag. She wasn’t happy but…if she wagged her tail, maybe mummah could smile.
Tugging Jasmine up in her arms and falling back on the bed now. Dinah pushed the covers up and snugged them around her best friend who gave a coo, wriggled around to nuzzle at Dinah as she sidled in beside her. It was still the afternoon but she knew mummah just wanted to sleep. Arm cinching against her pet’s side, the girl cuddled in close.
“You’re the best fluffy ever, Jasmine. I’m sorry dad is so mean. Next time just let him take more of my stuff. I don’t care.” Dinah stroked trembling fingers down her side. She didn’t answer mummah and instead pretended she went to sleep instead.
There was no way she could tell a lie to her owner.
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A month later and the two hadn’t had any incidents. Things were going relatively well at the house, and her father had mostly kept to himself. It was the weekend so Dinah and her fluffy were both plopped down in front of the living room television. FluffTV was on which wasn’t such a great interest to humans but she put up with it for Jasmine’s benefit.
“Wook mummah! Dancie fwuffy!” Up on her back legs while bopping her front hooves around. Royalty music and funky fluffies jivin’ on television really got Jasmine going, which caused Dinah to giggle. Eventually the music cut out which meant it was break time, good news for for the fluffy ‘cause her weggies were getting awfully tired from standing.
Bright commercials played. Super Kibble! It had a brown stallion flying around with a bright red cape saving other fluffies from the deplorable food they’d been eating. A warning at the end stated the product was not for sale in California. There were also CRAZY BALLS. Dinah had no idea how they were different than regular toys but it took a fluffy to ‘get it’ because now Jasmine was happily traipsing all over the living room while singing the jingle.
“Look, Jas! Fluffyland!” Ooohhh. This got Jasmine to settle down enough to focus back on the television. Fluffyland was a mythical place. Maybe the ultimate place for any biotoy. There were slides, ballpits, a wading pool, double sketti Tuesdays, big daddehs and mummahs who were assigned huggies distributors. Eyes growing big at the commercial which showed fluffies getting their every whim catered to, she looked to her owner with a sly smile.
Fluffyland was something they weren’t allowed to go to. Daddeh already said no, and when he said no he meant it. “Jamin am gib YEW huggies!” If they couldn’t go to a place where huggies flowed like wawa it just meant they’d have to make do at home. The fluffy sailed into her owner with a torrent of hugs and coos, rubbing her cheek all over to show her affection.
Dinah returned the hugs but they were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming open. Giving several scaredy peeps, the fluffy scampered off to the bedroom. Technically she wasn’t allowed out of the room unless she had permission. Flipping the channel away from FluffTV quickly, Dinah straightened up on the floor and acted as if she hadn’t been doing anything as Thomas came strolling in with a heavy clocking of boot steps.
“Hi, dad.” Nervously looking up to him. That brief look was enough to tell her all she needed to know: He was mad. Not just normal mad, either. Super seriously mad. Did he know Jasmine had been in here? How? The suspicion ate at her.
Cheeks flushed with rage, bushy eyebrows furrowed down, he thrust an index finger at her. “Care to tell me why in the nine Hells your bicycle was laying out in the middle of the goddamn driveway?”
Her mouth suddenly grew dry. Just…well, it was a stupid mistake. It had just been a mistake though. Having taken a bike ride earlier, she’d simply let the bike lay in the driveway because she’d been meaning to go out again right after. Things had slipped her mind and it had come to this. “I, uhmm, daddy, I…” If she said ‘Didn’t mean to’ it would just make him even angrier. Head hanging in shame, she didn’t even bother to finish the sentence. Nothing she said would matter.
“WELL, NOW YOU’VE GOT NO GODDAMN BIKE! How you going to get to school, moron!?” Thomas would never hit his daughter, no, but he was a brutal man regardless. A boot went up to kick over an end table next to the couch.
“Huh!? ANSWER ME! I work all goddamn day! You expect me to be your personal chauffeur because you can’t have an ounce of goddamn responsibility!?” Cowering against the couch and folding her arms in around her face, the girl could only weep. She was just a kid. Even an adult would likely be beside themselves with how she was being treated.
Hearing the sound of her mummah crying from down the hall caused Jasmine to puff her cheeks out. Meanie daddeh could hit HER but saying meanie things to mummah was…that wasn’t nice! It wasn’t something she could stand by and let happen! Bravely holding her head up, the fluffy skittered out from the bedroom and back into the living room.
“Yew weab mummah awone! Stahp meanie wowds! Nu am nice! Meanie daddeh! Stahp!” Charging forward, Jasmine gripped onto meanie daddeh’s pantleg with her teeth. Yanked back a bit. Gave several frustrated noises then gave him sorry-hoofsies with squeaks. Eyes growing wider and bulging out, the man looked down to the fluffy which might as well have just gone insane from the way it was acting. Dinah shook her head.
“Dad. No! PLEASE DON’T! She’s just scared for me! She loves me!” Love. Something which she didn’t get from him. A notion he likely didn’t understand. Massive hand grabbing down at the fluffy, he held her up by the mane to protests of ‘bad uppies!’.
“Now you’re going to show your hand? More insolence? Two brats in this household. I only have to deal with ONE!” Winding his shoulder back, he flung the fluffy out with great force toward a wall. Hitting it hard with her side and flopping to the floor, Jasmine didn’t have time to even recognize the pain bursting through her as a picture frame above her rattled down and went slamming down on the top of her head with a shower of glass.
“Nu mowe meanies, daddeh. Pwease. Nu mowe meanies. Wan wub. Wan happies.” It took all she could just to speak. Hurt so much. Why did it always have to come down to this? Launching himself out to her, a steelcapped boot caught her right in the ribs and shattered the fragile bones. Blood whooshed out from her mouth as the fluffy felt herself spiral back against the wall once more.
“I’m not taking any BACKSASS from a goddamn fluffy!” Lifting his foot up, stamping it down onto her back weggies. Bones were practically pulverized into dust, blood misting out from Jasmine’s mouth. Eyes rolling to Dinah, she begged her owner not to do anything. Already coming forward though, Dinah attempted to snatch a hand out at her pet.
“STOP! YOU’RE KILLING HER!” She bid with desperation but was held back by her father who used his other hand to grip Jasmine by the tail, hoisted her up. Jasmine swung like a pendulum, body broken. There had never been more huwties in the world like this. Back weggies didn’t work anymore. It was hard to move her bweathe-pwace. Just doing so felt like sharp things were digging into her. The booboo wawa kept coming out of her mouth too.
“I am? Good.” Jasmine didn’t want to die. Didn’t want fowebbah sweepies! There were so many things she hadn’t done. So many games that she hadn’t played with mummah. If you went fowebbah sweepies, you couldn’t have pillow forts anymore. Or have dancies. There were no smiles, or warm huggies, nothing good. It was the complete absence of anything at all. Never having thought of this before, the realization was suddenly dawning on her. How bad fowebbah sweepies really was now that it might seem like they’d come to her all of a sudden.
“D…deh. Jamin su sowwy….” Not sorry for defending Dinah. Her mummah meant everything to her. Twisting her neck so that she could get a good look at her owner, the fluffy imagined the two of them going to Fluffyland. Double sketti Tuesdays, chasing each other around, espowin’ in the ball pit. Having fun. Doing what fluffies were made to do. Not being hurt.
“Dad…” Reaching a hand out to Jasmine with a shaking hand, Dinah intended to gently take the fluffy from him. It seemed as if for a moment that he had calmed down. Just standing there breathing heavily. Though of course this was the calm before the storm. A cruelty in making one believe that the situation would turn out differently. Thomas slung back, wound the mare across one wide shoulder, spiked her face-down to the ground. There was a splintering, splatting sound as the force of it obliterated anything Jasmine had resembling a head. With a few twitches, her furry body grew still and gave several sad plops of poopies. What was left on the floor was a black, red, and white stain. Shattered skull fragments sticking into a brain which had practically been liquefied on impact. No more love, no more lofty dreams. The price of defending her mummah had been life itself. Dropping to her knees beside her now ruined pet, Dinah couldn’t even get words out. Just a long-winded guttural noise of pure sorrow. Tears tracked down her cheeks, plopped over the fur she’d taken so much time petting or brushing.
Looking down to her, Thomas dug into his pants and got a wallet out. Flipped it open, rustled around for a $20 bill. Leaning over the corpse staining the living room carpet, he dropped the money fluttering down on top of the remains.
“Stop your crying. Go buy another one. I’ll go put this one in the trash.”
