Ronnie loved to eat, in fact he loved to eat so much that over the years he had gained over a hundred pounds in body fat. Ronnie is a fully grown man in his twenties, who still lives with his mommy, who spoils him.
(more) Ronnie was abruptly awoken by the rumbling of his stomach, a common occurrence with his demanding appetite. He checked the clock radio beside his bed, and it said that the time was midnight. He called out for his mom, "MA! MA! I'm hungry! Let's eat!". He heard no answer, and shuffled towards his mother's room, and he saw her empty bed. 'Fuckin' bitch is ignoring me!', Ronnie concluded.
He waddled away from the bedroom towards the kitchen. A delicious aroma permeated the air, a sweet tang of pineapple and ham filled his nostrils. 'Oh god, this smells delicious!', anticipated Ronnie. He opened the oven and saw the beautifully marinated hunk of meat adorned with pineapple rings fully cooked in a pan. With his bare hands, he grabbed the ham from the oven, immediately ripping at the hunk of meat with his teeth like a famished dinosaur. Within a few minutes, the several pounds of meat were completely consumed. Suddenly, Ronnie realized he was so thirsty.
He stumbled to the fridge, and slowly opened it up, but there was no light. Ronnie felt for the light bulb inside, and rotated it until the inside was illuminated. Inside the refrigerator were strange cuts of meats. Upon closer inspection, he saw two pairs of arms, a torso, and part of a leg. In the freezer, he found his mother's severed head glaring into his eyes with a permanent look of disgust.
Ronnie felt a warm trickle run down his leg.(less)
I was somewhere between awake and asleep when Peter stumbled through the door. A romantic comedy was playing at low volume on the television as I mindlessly scrolled through clickbait, my movements seriously limited by the wool blanket I'd tightly swaddled myself in.
(more) "These listicles are getting weirdly specific," I said as Peter dropped his keys on the table. "I just saw one titled '25 Things Only INFP Serial Killers Would Understand.'"
Peter let out a forced snort and walked silently to the sink to fill a glass with water.
"What's up? Are you okay?"
"Aren't you going to ask me where I was?"
"Um, I guess I will now?"
Peter shook his head and raised the glass to his lips.
"I'm getting published, Em. My book is getting published."
I sat up.
"Oh my God, Peter. That's--congratulations! Wow. I'm speechless."
His eyes went warm and crinkly. "Thanks, Em. It means a lot to me, especially after your--"
"That's completely irrelevant," I said, throwing a hand up to shush him. "I'm so, so happy for you. You deserve this to the moon and back."
Peter walked over to me and gingerly kissed my forehead. I cringed, knowing he could see the small window in the lower righthand corner of my computer screen: an almost-blank word document, its cursor seeming to blink more aggressively than usual. A title was all that graced the white expanse, and I wished that was gone too. A completely blank word doc somehow seemed less embarrassing.
"You're the best," he said before reaching for the remote. I closed my laptop and watched him change channels.(less)