Happy Halloween! Halloween is slowly becoming a thing here in Viking land even though we already have a holiday similar to it. Kids get dressed up for Fastelavn and then they bang the life out of a wooden barrel filled with sweets and a paper black cat. Back in the old days it used to be a live one. Then they go from house to house singing songs and asking for sweets.
Dave the flamingo is back in the closet. But before he returned to his enclosure he inspired a Halloween story.
It all started with that damn flamingo. One day her brother had come home from the playground carrying a bright pink rubber flamingo. She’d wrinkled her nose in disgust at it and asked him what he was doing with a dirty smelly squeaky toy. He’d just smiled his goofy grin and told her “His name is Dave, he told me so. He can speak!” He then held up the toy to his ear, squeezed it and proclaimed that Dave wanted a bath. Little brothers are idiots she thought and left it at that.
Weeks went by and Dave was still around. She had thought that one of their parents would have taken it away but they were too busy with work and parties to notice anything concerning their children. Even when she’d started complaining about her brother’s newest way of ruining her life. It had started out small. She’d find Dave in the sofa, on her seat at the dinner table but it was evolving to her finding him in her shower, underneath her duvet, his head stuck between pages in her diary. She’d even once found him with his feet sticking up from the kitchen drawer with the carving knives. She’d moaned to the parents but they didn’t listen and when she would curse at the dwarfed imbecile of a brother he kept saying that it wasn’t him. That Dave was doing it. As if!
Tonight the parents were at another work party so she was stuck at home looking after the little doofus. He’d started coming into her room at night asking if he could sleep in her bed because Dave was saying mean things. She had to give it to him, he had a creative imagination. She was hoping he wouldn’t do it tonight. She was chatting with this dreamy guy she’d met on Twitter. He was the only one who understood what a trial her life was. His online name was Phoinikopteros so he had to be a sophisticated guy way better than the little boys she went to school with.
Of course her luck just wasn’t with her tonight. She’d had to almost lock her brother in his room to get him to sleep in his own bed. He was claiming that Dave was whispering bad things about demons and blood. She’d taken Dave in one hand her brother in the other and with big flare she had dumped the daft flamingo in the garbage bin outside. She had then told her brother to stay in his room and put on her headset turning up the volume. Nothing was going to disturb the rest of her night.
She’d been idling around the internet and painted her nails when she finally got another message from Pho. He had left a gift for her. How could that be? He doesn’t even know where I live. She was whispering her confusion when she got another message. “I know more about you than you think, Rachel!” It had to be a bad joke. One of her school friends. She hadn’t even told him her name. How did he know. “Look in your brothers room!”. She looked at the screen in disbelief. She was having a bad dream? She pinched her arm hard and jumped.
She was in front of her brothers door now sure what to think. There was a strange smell in the air. Something she hadn’t smelled before. She stepped closer to the door her feet sinking into wet carpet. What the hell was going on? “Robert, this isn’t funny!” echoed through the hall as her hand went to the handle. Slowly the door opened and she was feeling nauseous. The room was covered in red. Blood spatter painted the walls as a Jackson Pollock painting. Brain matter was hanging from the lamp she’d helped her brother put up. And right in the middle of the room was an unbelievable sight. In all the bloody chaos was a bright pink flamingo called Dave. Right before she passed out she heard a squeaky voice “Do you like my gift, Rachel?”