View Full Version : Good God, Allison. Adult 1,130

February 14th, 2015, 06:07 PM
“Allison, please pay attention, honey. We have to talk.”

“Uh, huh,” Allison muttered, playing with a jigsaw puzzle. It was a picture of a purple duck floating on a placid dark blue pond. The pond was colored bright yellow. Allison loved bright colors. When the three-year-old had begun putting it together, the duck had been yellowish and the pond a light blue.

But, you see, when enough of the picture was together to understand what it was going to be, Allison wanted a purple duck -- so it was purple. Allison always got what she wanted.

She held up a piece of blue pond, squinting one eye in concentration. It wouldn’t fit in the particular place she wanted it. Allison stared at the puzzle a moment, then looked at the errant piece of cardboard. The small piece of cardboard began to flow into itself. Surprise! When she tried again, it fit. The little girl smiled and picked up another piece.

“Allison. Can you hear me, Allison?” A woman’s voice seemed to come out of the thin air of Allison's room. Nobody could be found that was willing to talk to the child in person. Not since the last keeper had been turned into a pony. Allison had wanted a pony at the time -- not a psychologist. One of this replacement’s objectives was to get the girl to turn the pony back into a human.

“Uh, huh. Wat' you want, I’m playin’?” Tired of the puzzle, it disappeared.

“Just to talk, and say hello.”

“Hello. Cun' I have a cookie?”

She got up and walked around the room. It was a a typical girl child’s room with cartoon characters on the wall and stuffed animals lying around. There were windows along one wall. Another wall had a square metal slot on it that wasn’t so typical, but was needed to give the child things like a cookie.

Allison could make many things, but not cookies or any living or once living thing. She couldn’t make a cookie. Now, she could make a cookie into a pile of potato chips, for instance, but not make a cookie from a piece of cardboard puzzle. The child could change organic matter from one form to another, only not create it herself.

“You can have two, make it three, cookies if you tell me what you did with your parents.”

“No, I don’ wanna. Gimme a cookie.”

“Alright, you can have a cookie. Look in your cookie book, and I’ll give you one.”

Allison went over to a bookshelf and picked up a picture book, one with a big cookie on the cover. She sat cross-legged on her green bedspread and, book on lap, looked at pictures of cookies, choosing what kind she wanted.

Soon, there was a thunk at the bottom of the metal wall slot. A small hockey puck sized object lay at the bottom. It was a balanced lump of dietary components, along with vitamins and other supplements.

It also contained vital medications, vital to the safety of the world -- and maybe even the entire universe. You see, Allison was a young Goddess. Young, naive, and even a little stupid, according to the experts.

Allison picked up what was now a large chocolate chip cookie from the slot, and munched on it.

“Now, will you tell me about your parents, your Mama and Papa, and what happened? Did they make you mad?”

“Uh, huh.” She smiled at the memory,

“What did they do, Allison? To make you mad? Did they hit you?”


“Then what did they do, talk bad to you?”

“Yeah, Papa done yelled at me, just cause.”

“Just cause what?”

“Just cause.”

“I’ll bet you got even, didn’t you?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Then what?”

“I made 'um go 'way for 'while.”

“You did. That’s good. Where did they go?”

“I saw this place on tebision. A cold place with big bars. I tell ‘um you go there for 'while. Next time don’ yell at me.”

“Don’t you think they’re sorry now, honey? Maybe you should bring them back.”

“Dunno, maybe. Lookit' Icky?”

Icky Rabbit, a cartoon character, was busily beating Ollie Skunk over the head with a wooden mallet in one corner of the room. They disappeared with a loud “Bang” like a fire cracker.

“Ha-ha. They always do that. But you shouldn’t do it. It hurts in real life. A bad thing to do.”

“I know 'at. I don’ hit nobody.” She laughed. “I even made 'at place go away. A one where ever'one fights alla the time. I got tired of it.”

Her television was monitored, but sometimes something got through. Now they would have to try to get Iraq back.

“I think you should bring everything back, Allison. You know your Mama and Papa love you, and there were some good people in that bad place. A lot of little girls like you, too. I’ll just bet. Don’t you think so?”

“Okay.” Allison shrugged, more amenable now that the medicine in the cookie has taken hold.

“And what about Ms. Johnson, Allison? She doesn’t like being a pony. Will you do me a special favor and make her Ms. Johnson again?”

“Nope. I like ponies. See.” Allison was now a green pony, the same color as the cover on her bed.

“You're a cute little pony, Allison, but I think Ms. Johnson wants to go home and see her little girl. She has one just about your age.”

“Okay, but if she wanna, I can make her a pony agin’.”

“I’ll tell her that, sweety. The next time she wants to be a pony, I’ll tell her to ask you. Did you make her a person again?”

“Uh, huh.”

As the medication began working on her, Allison felt sleepy and finally went to bed -- to the relief of the staff. The entire hospital had been built to contain her. The only way they could have any control of her at all was through medication.

They could sedate Allison for only sixteen or eighteen hours a day. No amount of medication could force her to sleep longer. Some of the scientists wanted to kill the child -- for the good of the universe -- but didn’t know how, or even if it were possible to kill a Goddess. The last thing they wanted was to make her angry.

Meanwhile, it was a constant effort to keep little Allison satisfied. At any moment she could decide to travel, or destroy the world on a whim.

The little girl rolled around in her sleep, bright green blankets tucked under her little chin. The sunlight reached in through a window, burning her tender little nose.

The sun winked out of existence.

The End.

May 4th, 2015, 06:36 PM
I really liked what you did here with the dialogue and phonetics. I think this is my favorite of your pieces. thanks for sharing!