06-24-2015, 05:36 AM
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I'LL SAY "YOU HAVEN'T MET ME, I AM THE ONLY SON." He didn’t see any movement in his immediate vicinity, but he did keep hearing a faint humming of some unknown nonsensical tune. It was rather irritating to say the least. But he would ignore it for the time being; he had more important things to accomplish at the moment. He hooked his front legs over the lip of the box and began to pull himself over it (vaguely he realized that his legs were an absurd green color). Munroe had no other choice but to make the estimated foot drop onto the plushy carpeted floor beneath him. He jumped with a poorly executed tuck-and-roll maneuver and ended up landing on one of his sides. All of the air in his lungs whooshed out and his side ached terribly, but he was at least free of his rectangular prison. His relief was short-lived when a sudden high-pitched screech rent through the air and he was suddenly unable to control his limbs as if he had been put under some kind of body-binding curse. He was now imprisoned within his own body. The source of all that earlier humming and the following horrible scream revealed itself to be a young girl. Cascading blonde curls adorned her head beneath a dainty golden tiara and vivid blue eyes gleefully took in the sight of the wonderful new addition to her toy collection. Princess Nerissa would not be completely satisfied until she owned a real life pony, but she would make do with this lovely offering in the meantime. At first glance, Nerissa appeared to be a sweet and adorable little girl. But Munroe didn’t trust that malicious gleam in her eyes or the wicked tilt to one side of her mouth. All the dimples in the world couldn’t completely hide the cruelty hidden within Princess Nerissa. The largest feeling of foreboding rose up inside his chest and he could not contain his pained attempt at a whimper. He desperately wanted to be back home safe and sound with Ima right about now. “Did you come to play with me, pony!? First let’s do something about that awful hair. Why did mommy and daddy pick out such an ugly colored pony too? You look like puke or smelly baby poop. Maybe I can fix that too! Princess Nerissa leaned down with her sticky little hands and Munroe tried to futilely brace himself. He was unprepared for the tight, squeezing hold she kept on his torso, especially after he had just taken a rather solid impact to his one side. Although he was frozen, relegated to a mere statue really, he still felt the intense pressure on his sides and he struggled to burst free of his caged self to no avail. She briefly set him down on the delicate gold and white dressing table while she began shift through various drawers until she found what she had been looking for – a pair of scissors she had hidden after taking them from the junk drawer in the kitchen. This was Nerissa’s favorite barbershop tool to use on all of her most favored toys. She also located her assortment of colored permanent markers for later cosmetic surgery. All Munroe can do is lay there in horrified silence, unable to even twitch in discomfort. She began her obnoxious humming once again while she picked both the scissors and her beloved pony up in each one of her hands. Hazel eyes stared indignantly at the floor while large chunks of blue-black hair fell carelessly downwards in a mocking fluttering little dance. Nerissa gasped as the scissors slightly slipped from her loose grip and scratched into his plastic skin which left behind an obvious mar to his previously unmarked body. Both his mane and tail have now been cut to match the big, ugly American Doll from earlier. All that remained were sad little tufts of shorn hair aligning his neck and rump – a brand new haircut via Princess Nerissa. She then picked up a neon pink permanent marker and started to draw squiggly lines and an assortment of shapes upon his entire body. Munroe supposed that his haircut wasn’t enough humiliation for the day. He hated her constant touch; he had always shied away from strangers his entire short life. Only Ima had been allowed into his life and only Ima could handle him with the familiarity that this child had the audacity to instigate. He hated every minute of this awful experience and he hated Princess Nerissa with a burning passion. Munroe thought that this was the most hatred he had ever felt for someone in his life. Distrust and wariness was of his nature, but hatred was a facet he had yet to venture into. He wanted to hurt this child in revenge for himself and all the other battle-scarred toys in the toy box prison. He even included Miss American Doll in his thoughts of revenge; he was certain she was only that much of a bully due to her own abuse from the so-called lovely princess. “The pink only made you uglier! How could that even happen?” Nerissa wailed over her failed attempt at covering his green skin. She didn’t understand why it hadn’t worked; pink was her favorite color after all. Pink fixed everything. She looked at him in disgust before carrying him into the attached bathroom. Nerissa turned on the hot water in the sink and plunged the bedraggled-looking toy beneath its scalding spray. She vigorously tried to rub the permanent marker off of Munroe’s skin but it hadn’t been named permanent maker for just any reason. Munroe was drowning. His sides hurt and his lungs were on fire. He was still frozen, unable to close his eyes to protect them from the burning stream of water. He felt as if his skin was literally melting beneath the onslaught of heat and roughly scrubbing hands. Luckily, his water torture was cut short when Princess Nerissa became distracted by a sudden thump in her bedroom. She hurriedly left the sink to investigate this strange noise. A fluffy white poodle had knocked over her tea tray which had held an assortment of sweets and a cup of hot chocolate and was currently gorging herself with as much sweets as possible. Nerissa screamed and threw the closest thing she had at the stupid dog, which just so happened to be Munroe. He went flying through the air, weightless but full of suppressed fear and adrenaline. Maybe this would give him an opportunity to make his escape from the devil in disguise. He hit Georgette with a resounding thud and fell once again on the same side he had damaged earlier. The poodle wasted no time in becoming distracted by this missile and quickly snatched Munroe up by his head. But Princess Nerissa was having none of that. She would not allow the stupid dog to deprive her of her new favorite play thing. She rushed over to Georgette and grabbed a hold of his supposedly puke-green torso – a tug-of-war ensured. Poodle and princess fought valiantly but ultimately it would result in a tragedy. Munroe’s head was encased in sharp canines which pushed into his hollow plastic body viciously. But his body and head felt like they were being slowly pulled into two and the pressure was agonizing. He screamed but the only ones who could hear were the toys in the box prison; they huddled in fear with their ears covered and their heads filled with guilty thoughts of thank goodness it wasn’t them this time. His agony ended with a resounding pop. His head remained in the gleeful Georgette’s mouth. His body was held in a disbelieving Nerissa’s hand. Now he felt distant and detached. An underlying ache remained unmovable within his soul, but his sense of touch was now divided between two separate pieces. This somehow dulled his pain to a manageable level and Munroe felt as if he were floating in a void of denial. He honestly didn’t even want to acknowledge what had just transpired. Princess Nerissa was furious and finally managed to steal her toy’s head back before running to her Mommy frantically. Angry tears rolled down her face as she screamed for her mother. “Look what Georgette did, Mommy! Fix it! Right Now!” Her mother took in her darling girl’s tear-stained face and cooed soothingly to her little princess. She took Munroe’s broken body and attempted to repeatedly jam his head back onto his body. Finally, his head seemed to pop back on, but it was rather stilted and lop-sided and Princess Nerissa decided he was much too ugly to begin and not worth her precious time anymore. She flounced off in disgusted huff which left Munroe abandoned by the little terror. With his head reattached, his senses seemed to have realigned and his pain is full-frontal once again. All he can do is close his eyes in exhaustion as mommy dearest carelessly tossed him into the nearest trash can. For her, he was one in a long line of broken and discarded toys to be thrown away. But Munroe will never forget that feeling of heartless abandonment. Life seemed to be taken for granted when it came to these odd beings. It was different for a toy. No matter how roughly mishandled they were, all they had to live for was the child they had been gifted to. Their only goal in life was to please their child. But Munroe had been abandoned by his master. It was like being abandoned by Ima. Now he had no one who loved him in his life. He was only good for keeping the shredded paper, dust bunnies, and rotting table scraps company. MUNROE -- and now I am sure my heart can never be still |