Romans & histoires I Made A Bloody Mess In The Kitchen Sink

"It was crazy. I got home, found the door open and heard noise from the kitchen. I peeked through the window and damn the mess I saw. The kitchen looked like a hurricane had hit it." I crinkled my nose. "Tell me about it. I almost got a stroke when I walked in. It was fucking disgusting. I fucking swear if I didn't kill him before, I would have fucking done it because of what I saw. How the fuck does a grown-ass man make such a mess?" Michael snarled, gripping the fork so hard I felt it was going to break.

Unlike most of the other men, his face is hairless. I glance around the kitchen. Not only is it ugly, it’s piled high with the filthiest mess I’ve ever seen. I storm over to the sink and almost vomit. The smell is horrendous and the grime peeking through the dishes is growing fungi. It takes three seconds to realize there is no dishwasher. Dammit, this will be a hand job. I smile internally. I’m not exactly a hand job kind of girl.

The head of an animal was in the freezer being stored, countless entrails hanged inside the fridge. "Dangit, I forgot to buy milk. I guess I need to go out and buy some then." I sighed and walked towards the sink. "Oh no, mother and father you are leaking again. You should be like Eric, look at him clean as he can be." I quickly used the rug that was on the sink and wiped away the liquid that was pooling on the floor, don't want to stain the floorboards with it. I then squeezed the rug in the sink and it quickly dyed red, I hummed as I washed the rug and took a large knife from the holder, I carefully fastened it in a sheath on my back.

She shrugged, “I just felt like doing something nice.” ‘Nice’ would have been not making a mess of my kitchen. Water was spilled all over the sink and the counter. The counter was a safe three feet from the kitchen sink. The dishes were everywhere, I couldn’t even tell which was cleaned and which wasn’t. ‘Something nice’ would have been tossing them in the dishwasher right beside the sink. “Why?” I couldn’t take my eyes from the mess. My skin prickled anytime I found other nice things she was up to. Why was there a white substance on one of the cabinets?

Warm water? The kitchen was a mess. In contrast to the living room, the kitchen sink was dusty a clear indication it hadn’t tasted water for a long long time. the pots were rusty, scattered on different sides of the counter in the middle of the kitchen and my hopes for finding water in this mess of a place diminished. God, what was I supposed to do now? Tie his wound with a rag and hope the bullet didn’t splice through the remaining meat on his throat? Was that how it worked?

After doing that four times I finally stood up straight and blindly reached out for the towel. Slowly dabbing my face I walked out of the bathroom, making my way towards the kitchen. Dishes from last night, and the past two weeks, were greeting me from the sink as I stepped foot into my messy kitchen. A slice of cheese and an empty milk container stared at me from the floor. I grunted as I threw the towel on the kitchen counter and squatted down to pick up the nasty slice of cheese that was now coated with fungus and the empty milk container that smelled like rotten eggs. I gagged at the smell and the urge of vomiting all over the floor was becoming a possibility.

I used the wall to support myself as plodded to stand up and also ya using all my strength I sluggishly made my way into the kitchen. As anticipated the kitchen was exactly the same as the living room, it was just trashed. There was food far and wide, a many plates and spectacles were smashed and the Gomorrah was overflowing. The first thing I did was go over to the Gomorrah to turn it off before it fully swamped the room. I let out a shriek as I rubbed my lower reverse trying to reduce the pang from my fall as I looked around the kitchen like it would help me to decide what to do.

I wanted to yell at him but stopped myself. Without wasting more of his time as he didn't seem like he was engaging me anymore, I strutted off into his bathroom to start my chores and I froze at the sight that lay in front of me. His bathroom was a mess. I gasped at the amount of blood on his tiled floor and the walls. On his large silver mirror was a huge crack signifying he had hit it with his fist. I sucked in a deep breath as the smell of his blood drifted through the air, assaulting my senses.

Evelyn~ The sink chose violence at seven in the morning. I was halfway through making breakfast when the faucet made a horrible choking sound and blasted water directly across the kitchen. I yelped and jumped backward. The pan nearly hit the floor. Water sprayed everywhere. The counter. The cabinets. My shirt. The stupid fruit bowl. For a few seconds I just stood there getting attacked by plumbing because apparently life had decided Samantha was not enough stress. “What happened?” Toby appeared in the doorway.

Hot water spilled onto her hand, instantly turning it red. Cameron rushed in and held her in his arms, his face full of disappointment. "Hazel, when did you become so vicious? I know you don't like Winona, but how could you hurt her? You've let me down!" Cameron did not glance at me again and left with her in his arms. "I didn't!" My tears fell involuntarily. I thought, 'Cameron, there are security cameras! Look at the security footage! Forget it, I don't want to explain myself anymore.'