The Baby

Have you ever had those moments where you see something unbearably awful, and you cannot "un-see" it? Right, I've got a story for you.

 

Once upon a perfectly ordinary and bright sun-shiny summer afternoon, I was at my friend's house. A bunch of the neighborhood boys had assembled there for a wondrous day full of fun and adventure and stuff, but as we all arrived and gathered in his living room to discuss our activities for the day, we eventually fell into a very silent and comotose state, and all of us were left staring at the floor or walls of the house. I imagine we were all gazing into our hopeless and depressing futures.

Sometimes, there really isn't enough nothing one can do, boredom is your only friend. But after a short while, one of the kiddies couldn't handle the lack of life.

 

The idea was brilliant. A perfect solution to our entire boredom. And so we reverted to our childhood days full of splendor and wonder, and initiated a good game of hide-and-seek.


Many rounds were played, and the games got intense. It was getting more and more difficult to find the most secret spot. But I was still playing well, I hadn't been "it" once.


Soon, it was Hunter's turn to be “it.” My hiding spot during this round was of the most elite and perfect kind.

Joe was the first to be revealed in this round, and as a result, he was the next person to be “it.” He entered into the bathroom to begin his counting…

The rest of the boys scrambled around the house searching for a new spot, the ultimate spot that would stump good ol’ Joe. But, during our frenzy, we did not hear counting, but rather a rampant and quite irritating screaming erupting from the bathroom, where Joe currently was.

“WHAT. IS. THAT?!” Joe’s voice boomed. Confused and curious, all of us boys sprinted towards the bathroom and busted through the door to see Joe clinging to the shower curtain to keep him from collapsing to the floor out of utter fear. Through all of his shakiness, he managed to point a finger in the direction of the toilet. One by one, the rest of us boys gazed into the bowl.

That was our biggest mistake.

I expected, due to Joe’s common immaturity, that we would find what would normally be found in a toilet. Poop. But no...No, this was no common sample of defecation. Instead, what we DID find...was a monster.

A mutated form of human feces was nesting there, staring up at us like a tarantula waiting for us to make the wrong move before it could properly strike. The size of the beast was comparable to a small puppy, or about half the length and width of a loaf of bread.

 

Naturally, chaos ensued.

Never before had anything been forced upon us to behold. This was not human excrement. It was a baby.

Someone.

In the house.

Had given birth.

We debated for hours, trying to catch the culprit of who brought such a behemoth to the world to wreak havoc, but it was no use. No human could've done it. It was physically impossible. The numbers didn't add up.

But whether a human had released the demon or not, it was still there, rotting away, creating such an unbearable stench.

Accepting that the truth would never be known, we all gave one last look, (wouldn't you?) and sent our extra-terrestrial monster-mutant baby to a new home with a "flush."