SNATCH: A Dark Erotica by Scott Hildreth Page B

hoped that God listened to him as he said his prayers at night. He had already lost fifteen pounds, and when he looked into the mirror, the reflection he saw was not overweight.
    “Because God talks to me. When I pray, God listens. Do you know why he listens to me?” his father bellowed as he stood at Ryan’s side.
    Ryan turned and looked at his father. “No, Sir. I don’t know why.”
    The father shook his head and looked at Ryan’s naked body with disgust in his eyes. “Because I am not a fat pile of sickening shit. God hates fat kids, and God hates you. Make no mistake about it. God hates you. If you don’t believe me, pray for me to give you mercy. Pray for that. And when God doesn’t answer you, when he brings you down to the basement again for a fat inspection, you’ll know.”
    The father walked around Ryan, studying his body as he did. “I imagine I will not be able to eat that fabulous dinner your mother prepared. Do you know why?”
    As Ryan’s father circled, Ryan hesitantly responded. “Why father?”
    “Holy shit!” his father screamed.
    Ryan paused and shook his head in disbelief. “Father?”
    “You want to call me father? I do not claim your fat fucking ass. Call me father again, and I will cut you. Sir. That’s the word that better fall out of your fat mouth. Sir. Call me father again, I’ll take a finger. At least if I did, you’d lose a few ounces. Jesus, Ryan, looking at you is making me sick.” His father stood with his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I won’t be able to eat that meal, Ryan because I will vomit. As sure as today is Wednesday, and God and I both know it is, I will vomit that roast your mother has so graciously prepared. I will vomit the roast. Now, do you know why I will vomit the roast?”
    “No…” Ryan’s voice cracked as he tried to speak. “Sir.” The tears streamed down Ryan’s cheeks as he spoke.
    “Because you have upset my stomach, Ryan. You have made me sick. I am sick at my stomach. I will be incapable of swallowing, enjoying, and keeping your mother’s wonderful food in my stomach. Because you won’t lose weight. One more question. One more, then I must get away from you. Jesus. I may vomit right here. I just may. Ryan, does God love you?” His father stood directly in front of him, and stared at Ryan’s bare crotch.
    “No, Sir,” Ryan whispered.
    “Louder,” his father demanded.
    Ryan straightened his shoulders and responded. “No, Sir,”
    As Ryan spoke, he began to believe his response.
    “Because?” his father asked.
    Ryan straightened his stance further, looked straight ahead at his father, and responded. “Because I am a fat, worthless, sickening pile of blubber. I am worthless, and I will always be worthless. God hates me, God doesn’t listen to my prayers, and he never will.”
    “You’re correct for once in your life. Son of a bitch. Maybe you do know more than how to solve math problems. Well, sleep down here. I am going to try and choke down your mother’s dinner. If you’re quiet, and I have no reminder that you exist, I may be able to hold it down. Say a little prayer that I am able to eat my dinner,” his father said as he turned toward the stairs.
    “Oh wait,” his father said. “Never fucking mind. Don’t say a prayer. I’ll just risk it. God doesn’t listen to little fat kids. Worthless piles of vile shit. Fat kids that no one will ever want. I don’t want to take a chance pissing off God any more than he already is. Just keep your fat mouth shut.”
    Ryan’s father paused and coughed. “I’ll do you a favor and tell your mother you’re exercising.”
    His father disappeared up the stairs.
    Ryan waited for the footsteps of his father to fade away, picked up his clothes, and got dressed. Now sitting on the edge of the couch and staring at the wall, he began to second guess his self-worth, his purpose on earth, and his faith in God.
    Now sitting in the parking lot, Ryan looked at Ami and wondered.