In a place not far from where you may live a little girl was born many eons ago. The year 1950. Her place of birth though remains a mystery. She was found in a public restroom outside of an unknown Washington Township. All that was found with her was a piece of paper which read, “This is Lilith. We do not want her. In the toilets she shall remain, the sewage that she is.”
She was found by a family named Smith and a family named Jones, though these were not the names the families had come to America bearing. They were the 1950s version of a gay couple; two gay men and two lesbians who after one drunken evening found each other’s truths and married.
The families decided to rename her Lisa Smith. Lilith was not a name they wanted to keep attached to her, with or without the harrowing note. She was named after a longtime friend who knew their truths but had passed away in a horrific boating accident.
Dead Lisa was a bubbly, warm soul who always gave 110% of everything. If you needed a lift she was there. A shoulder to cry on. A hug. A handjob. Anal. Dead Lisa was a bit too ahead of her time and this is ultimately what lead to her untimely demise.
It was so told that while vacationing in the bayous of Mississippi, Lisa and two friends had the unfortunate experience of a foundering motorboat. On top of this, the propeller had completely stopped working. One friend wished that someone could swim and push the boat towards safety. Lisa heard the call and into the water she went.
She was only in the water for about a minute when she emitted a scream. A gator was attacking her. It took a healthy bite out of her shin, not quite taking everything below that but leaving her dangling like a rogue piece of spaghetti not wanting to play with the other spaghettis on the fork.
Amid her agony suddenly the propeller reactivated. Usually this would be a good thing but she had won the Powerball of bad luck. The gator had dragged her directly to it. This was the actual cause of her death, not the gator, but her being motorboated by a motorboat. Just to top things off as she went under it took off all the recognizable features of her face. Her soft lips. Shredded. Her fat pointy little nost. Her green eyes sunken deeper into her skull. Her forehead shredded to the bone.
But enough of Dead Lisa. This is the tale of the living one. She will not be denied.
(Stay tuned for more….)
By SpaceDog