Thumbs taste good?

When I was a child I had one small habit that I couldn't seem to get rid of.

I just had to be sucking on something.

It wasn't anything harmful.

I just had to suck on something.

I sucked on lots of things. I sucked on pacifiers, spoons, and mainly my thumbs.

There was just something special about my right and left thumbs. Nothing tasted better than the smooth flesh of my fresh baby thumbs. 

But I grew out of that in elementary school.

I was bullied many times over, but it wasn't really anything extreme because we were children. They only really called me "Thumb Sucker," which looking back on it is a pretty lame insult who sucks on their thumb.

I got really annoyed about and got over in 2nd grade and I hadn't done it since.

I got through all of the necessary schooling, and eventually started working in an unknown company's HR department. The pay was good for paying off some of my student debts, so I stuck with it for around 8 years floating from lackey to eventually department head. But I got bored, so I quit.

I started my own company using some of the funds I had saved up and it went pretty well until I made a bad gamble. I had thought that it would have been wise to expand to other cities, which is smart, however I had rushed it, so it ended with our company stretching itself to thin, and we eventually collapsed on ourselves. 

I eventually became a recluse in my small apartment, and I was still alive from the small houses that I was renting out. 

I was losing money, and I knew that I was going to be homeless eventually, so I had decided to end it all.

There was no real reason to doing it because I had just done it on a passing whim.

It started with my friend telling me that I had nothing to do in life so I should give him everything in my will after I died.

He had said it in the usual joking manner in which we had normally talked to each other, so I thought of it as a little joke that he made to try to lighten the mood, but it turns out that he had meant it.

Later that night I woke up to a pillow being smashed into my face.

"Hmph!" I tried to yell for help through the pillow.

"Just shut up and die already Jimbo," my former friend said, "You already have ruined everything for everyone."

He continued to press the thick pillow into my face, fully sealing my mouth, "You already ruined everything for your family by taking their money, and you certainly didn't stop with them."

"No I didn't," I screamed, only to have the pillow crush further into my face, It was you who did that, and you know it.

"I don't know what you are thinking right now, but I would assume that it isn't anything truthful," He muttered.

I tried to twist out from under the pillow, but he quickly straddled me to keep me from going anywhere.

"You aren't going to get away from Jimbo, I know that you want to, but I just can't let you," He spoke through grunted teeth whilst trying to keep me contained.

I was slowly losing breath and I knew that I couldn't escape without any weapon of some kind so I squirmed underneath him, and tried reaching for some item that I could feel through the sleeve of my right arm.

"Jimbo, don't you dare try to do anything man, you need to pay back your family with that life insurance," he commanded as I continued squirming.

But I didn't do anything, and I would have done that anyways, I thought, I made one last attempt to yell at him, and pushed away with all I could with my left arm. "What did I do!"

He looked at me with a seemingly scornful gaze, "You not only took the money of your parents, which they did offer to you, but you also stole the money from your sister, and when she ran out of money you sold her to the rich guys who were trying to buy your company!" he continued yelling, "Only after your parents asked where she was because they had no idea where she was for over a year did you finally get her out of that hell hole!"

"And it wasn't just that. I know that you beat up your parents after they refused to give you some pocket money!" he continued yelling, "Who do you think you are just coming up to your fucking birth parents, and beating them black and blue!"

"Do you know how many times I was giving texts telling me in great detail about what you had done to your parents and what had happened to your sister!" He screamed.

"Nobody should have ever met or interacted with you, so I am going to make sure that your funeral is the last interaction anybody could ever have with you!" he roared.

I finally grabbed onto the object and tried to rise. He pushed me down, and I hit the ground with a loud thump.

I then brought around the object and threw it at him, and ended up hitting him in what seemed like the face.

"Ow, fuck that hurts!" He yelled.

After the impact I attempted to get up, and this time I was met with little resistance.

I pushed him down to the wall, and ran to the door.

I unlocked it, and ran out of the apartment into the streets.

"Why does it have to be like this! I sobbed.

"Why does everyone seem to treat me like some scumbag who would abandon my family like that!" I was genuinely questioning everything, "I haven't done anything like that."

All I did was hit my mom a few times nothing more. I thought, I never sold my sister either. I only left her with our parents. 

"That's right, I did nothing wrong," I laughed as I ran leaving behind a trail of tears.

I didn't do anything that bad so why is everyone hating me, I thought, Hitting my mom might have been bad, but I know for sure that I had never sold off and raped.

"I need to figure out why she is lying about me," I concluded.

I grabbed out my phone from my pants pocket, and turned on my phone to check my text messages. As I got to the texts from my sister, I noticed I had a little bit to read.

"How the heck did I not notice over 100 texts?" I muttered.

I had never been someone to be chronically online, but I wasn't ever far from my phone.

I had a quite consistent routine to check my phone for any messages from anybody that had gotten my phone number.

I finally opened up the conversations and scrolled to the first text I hadn't read.

It was a photo.

It was showing a young girl with black bangs covering her forehead stopping just before pretty sapphire blue eyes. My sister had always had those precious blue eyes that wouldn't be called ugly. She always had a cheery smile accompanying those jewel-like eyes. But something was wrong, the cheery smile that couldn't lie to anybody about her mood was gone, instead of that face, now her face was streamed with tears and shook me to my core.

I was stunned, "Huh?"

I had never seen my sister make such a face not once was she unhappy. Even at my worst I had never hit her, and ran when I had the thought, so I had only seen a pouty face at worst. 

What happened to her? I questioned.

I focused back to what was in front of me and I took a good long look through the texts.

I spent a good 20 minutes just going through 164 photos and an extra hour for 38 videos.

Those 164 photos had contained various images that shouldn't have been possible. My sister was a very reserved person that wouldn't have had done anything remotely naughty, and would have had the mind to stand up for herself.

So how was the last 100 photos of a lifeless version of my sister's body.

She was still alive the videos prooved that, but the cheery, loving sister that I had once known was gone, instead, I was left with a sister that was no more than a doll.

The videos had showed her having sex in various situations, and in every single one of them seemed to have left her more lifeless than the last. In the end she could only have been described as defiled.

There was nothing that was left untouched; her mouth; her butt; her feet; her belly button, and even her fingers.

I could only collapse on the ground beneath a streetlight.

When did this happen? I thought, I have never seen those men, and from the dates of these texts she was with our parents at the time. I wasn't with her every second, but I remember her being the exact opposite of lifeless.

I had also seen her during the time the texts had been sent to me, and she was anything but depressed. She was having the time of her life just recently having graduated high school, and had taken a year off before going to college.

She had been fine when I had seen her the times in between my job and relaxing from all the stresses of a collapsing company.

I took a closer look at the most recent text which was the 38th video, 6 hours ago. 

This one was different from the others, and the reason was because she wasn't being raped.

She wasn't being raped this time because she was already dead, and the guy recording it made sure to show the bullet hole very clearly. I didn't cry. I didn't even feel anything. It felt unreal because the cheery girl that he had seen get raped over and over again was now just a corpse.

What about my parents? I suddenly thought.

I instantly looked for the conversations between me and my parents, but I didn't find anything.

Everything was fine and nothing was of the ordinary. 

My parents were loving and supportive of me even in my worst times, and I only hit them when we were on the judo mat because my mother was way tougher and more skilled, but even when I did she would still win because no matter what I did she didn't care.

My father was a kind man who unlike my mother was focused more on the business side. He was the income, and we both got along well because we had managed our own companies. We hadn't talked for a while because I got to absorbed into my own life, but I knew that we hadn't left on a bad note.

I checked my most recent texts and started to read through the various texts that I had missed from anyone.

Eventually after reading for 7 minutes I found a group chat that I didn't remember being invited to, and nevertheless decided to open it up.

In the group chat were two dead bodies with bullet hole in their fore heads. One was a man and the other was a woman. They had no eyes only bloody sockets with tentacles like tendons protruding from them. 

"Mom.... Dad?" I cried quietly.

Tears streamed down my face, and my body spasmed uncontrollably.

"Why is this happening?" I laid myself down.

This has to be fake, I thought.

I stood up slowly, and made sure that I was always supported by the stone cold street light.

I looked around at the buildings, and saw another small apartment that I could climb up.

It wasn't to hard to climb because of the ladder that went nearly all the way to the ground.

I got myself to the roof by climbing the stairs after the ladder, and walked over to the edge. I wasted no time, and jumped off of the 3 story apartment. I hadn't believed that I could have made my day any worse, but below me I saw the familiar face of my friend, he was right below me, and I could swear that I was going to hit him which was a nice surprise, but then he suddenly swerved and I could swear that he was pushed by something. 

Before I could finish that thought I hit the ground, and went splat.

Everything went dark, and I thought that I could hear the sound of a steady beat guiding me to the light. 

Am I going to heaven? I thought.

The light grew brighter and I knew that I was soon going to reach my judgement soon, so I gave up resisting and let myself be moved towards it.

I didn't have any real regrets, so it seemed kind of boring and redundant.

I was already bad enough, and deserved to suffer, so what was taking so long.

Suddenly, I felt an immense pressure around my being, and I started screaming from the pain.

I soon felt like I passed through a small opening, and could have sworn I heard a pop.

Everything was bright, but it wasn't the comfort that the light had provided earlier, instead it was a searing light that felt like I was being petrified.

I was then hit by a tearing sensation that felt like I was lightly being peeled, I guess I really did go to hell, I thought.

Then everything felt like a smooth blanket, and I was suddenly reminded of the pillow that had nearly smothered me to death.

This is going to get scary if every little thing that I fear is going to come back to me, I thought.

I felt like I was being suffocated for what seemed like weeks when suddenly I saw something else other than the light. There were figures walking around him, and he seemed to be placed inside of some box, but he couldn't tell because he could only see some outlines.

The figures seemed slightly humanoid, but they remained shadowy for seemingly more weeks.

I managed to get my eyesight to work a little better, but the only thing I could tell was that I seemed to be in a hospital with what looked like doctors and nurses passing by nearly every minute.

Those discoveries had only brought more questions, What happened to me going to hell? Is this Hell? Am I even dead?

I don't know what is even going on, so I need to get out of here somehow, I thought.

A nurse suddenly picked me up, and I was placed into the arms of a woman who seemed absolutely exhausted, but unwilling to pass out from whatever had made her this way.

She said something, but I didn't hear her, however, her lips made the shapes as if she was saying the name Micheal.

I didn't understand what was going on, so I stuck my thumb in my mouth, and started to suck on it to calm down.

It still tastes good, I thought pleasantly surprised.