Free Entry 1, Week 8

My obsession with Happy Tree Friends is depressingly comedic. I bask in the cute fractures, adorably severed tendons, and ruby red showers blanketing my fleshy orbs. The boy with the bleeding heart is starting to figure me out. I can hear his skeleton clicking, clacking, rolling beneath his skin. I gotta steal those bones, bury’em deep in my bronze chest. I roll over to look at my childhood companion, gazing at how her left iris hangs haphazardly from a single vein, dangling indifference, she smiles in hindsight. Ragged and torn, she bleeds from the cloth of her breast…she is no longer a child. I murdered that part of her brain: reality lacks function in life.