Dopey

NOTE: this story is told from the aspect of 4
different 1st person narratives. I will indicate
the POV switch with the name of the speaker
at the beginning the appropriate section. I
hope this will clear up further confusion for my
readers. Without further ado, I present to you
the story of Dopey and his "sisters".

*FEBRUARY*

The first thing I did was hide the body, then I
called my mother. She told me not to worry,
that she would take care of everything. I hung
up the phone and fell into my dad's Lazy Boy. I
hoped my mom would get home before he
did. Dopey was his favorite.
"What the hell is going on?"
My sister, January stomped her way into the
living room and stood in front of me. Her
fingers tapped her hips while her blue eyes
danced furiously. "Where is he? Where is the
little cretin?"
I glared back at her. "What's wrong with
you?"
"My silver necklace is gone, the one with the
diamond that Roger gave me," she spat. "I
know that little mutant took it again. Where is
he?"
"Maybe you left it at Jonathan's house last
night," I suggested, clicking the television on.
"Beside his alarm clock on his night table
perhaps?"
"You little -" she began, the huffed back to
her room.
January had a very strong dislike of all dad's
"little men", but she hated Dopey the most.
She ordered him to clean her room, wash her
car, do her share of the chores, etc. and if he
were the slightest bit disobedient, she would
beat him. She would beat him senseless.
She would beat him within an inch of his life.
I never liked my sister January very much.
She was a cold-hearted, two-faced bitch
princess. Definitely, she was the most evil of
the three of us. My other sister, March was
almost too kind. She volunteered at the
hospital, a few rest homes, an animal shelter,
a daycare, the soup kitchen and worked at the
grocery store; for free.
"Hello, February," March greeted in her
candy-coated voice. She sat down on the
couch and smiled. "How was your day?"
"It was okay," I shrugged, turning the
channel to MTV. "Dopey is gone."
March gasped. "What do you mean?"
"I found him when I got home."
"That's awful," she cried. "Does daddy
know?"
"Nope," I told her, flipping to another
channel. "MTV plays nothing, but garbage
anymore."
March stood up. "How can you just sit there
and watch TV at a time like this?"
I had to chuckle. "March, there is a row of
six little graves in the backyard. I was kind of
expecting Dopey to kick it sooner or later."
"Well I wasn't!" she sobbed, throwing
herself to her room.
I shrugged and turned on the Playstation.
January screamed from the depths of her
room then pounded back into the living room.
"I'm going to kill him!" she shouted, beating
the stairs on her way down to the basement.

*JANUARY*

I marched right over to the little monster's
basket bed and tore out his blankets. He
always hid the stuff he took from me under the
cushion. Just the thought of his stubby, furry
fingers curling over my necklace made my
blood boil. I tossed the dirty, red plaid piece of
stench from the basket.
"Damnit!"
I flew back upstairs. "Where he is
February?" I demanded. "I know you're hiding
him somewhere. You and March always hide
him from me."
My sister ignored me, her attention glued to
her stupid video game.
"Put down that damn controller and tell me
where the little freak is!"
February dodged a virtual tree on her virtual
snowboard. "He's with God."
"Excuse me?"
She jerked the controller to the left. "He's
dead. I found him on the living room floor
when I got home." She jerked the controller to
the right then slid the snowboard through the
finish line. "I guess someone didn't notice his
lifeless body when she walked into the
house."
"Well isn't this just wonderful! Roger will be
here in half an hour expecting that necklace to
be around my neck."
February looked at me like my head was a
flaming ball of water. "You don't even like
Roger so why do you care?"
"His parents are, like, the most important
people in town, February. I just can't break up
with him."
"You told me he was a boring, conceited
moron."
I rolled my eyes and went to the bathroom to
look for my necklace. February was such a
loser. She didn't understand anything about
social circles. She didn't even care! She was
always climbing onto my last nerve to jump on
it as hard as she could. It was true, Roger
was boring, conceited and a complete moron.
I didn't like him. Not an ounce, but he had
money.
"What are you looking for?"
I shut the medicine cabinet to discover my
sister March looking at me with swollen red
eyes, holding a dripping wash cloth in her
hands.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Dopey died," she sniffed, plastering the
wash cloth to her face.
"Yeah, I know. Have you seen the silver
necklace that Roger gave me?"
March looked horrified. "Not you too!"
"What?" He's died just like all the rest," I
said. "What did you think was going to
happen?"

*MARCH*

"I don't know how I can even be related to
the two of you!"
I turned on a heel and walked back to the
living room. February was playing one of her
video games. I hated to interrupt her, but I had
to see him.
"Where did you hide him?"
She put down the controller and turned off
the machine. "Under my bed. Come on." We
walked down the hall towards February's
room. "Jan! Stop whining about your stupid
necklace and get in my room!"
January mumbled some obscenities, but
followed me through February's bedroom
door.
"Brace yourselves, ladies," February said,
reaching under bed, dragging Dopey's body to
the middle of the floor.
"Oh my God," January laughed.
"I know," February agreed, suppressing
giggles. "I don't know how he got that
magazine, but I couldn't pry it from his fingers."
I stared down at Dopey's body. His eyes
were almost popping out of their sockets and
his mouth was stretched into a capital "O".
"Why is he so stiff?" I finally managed to
ask.
My sister's laughed. "March, when boys get
excited-" January started to explain.
"I know about that!" I cut her off, disgusted.
"But his whole body is stiff, even his tail. He
couldn't be that stiff yet. He was hopping
around just fine this morning."
February shrugged. "Just be glad I put his
overalls back on. You couldn't have handled
that sight, March."
I knelt down beside Dopey and brushed his
soft, brown fur with my fingers. He was by far
the cutest of daddy's "little men". I would
come home from school, or the nursing home
or where ever I had been and he was always
jumping up and down on the porch waiting for
me. On my birthday, he dug up mom's roses
and handed them to me roots and all. When
my hamster died it was Dopey that hugged
me while I cried.
"Did you call mom," I asked.
"She said she'd be home as soon as she
could."
I nodded. "What do you think daddy will
do?"
"Who knows," February answered. "He was
certain he had perfected his recipe this time."
I started crying. Dopey was so sweet, not
like Doc at all. Doc always ripped the blankets
off my bed. Sneezy was always depressed.
Sleepy died after a month so I didn't get a
chance to know him. Grumpy was nice, but all
he did was play with daddy. Happy was born
without feet or hands so he survived as well
as a fish in the desert. It was Bashful, the first
of daddy's "little men" that was the oddest. He
was hyperactive. He ran around the house
like a chicken with its head cut off most of the
time.

*DOPEY*

The front door opened then shut.
"Dad's home!" our father announced.
"Where's my little man?"
The triplets looked at each other.
"Shove him back under the bed!" March
hissed.
"I thought mom said she'd be home before
him," January grunted, helping February shove
me back under the bed.
"I can't help it that he got home early."
The girls rushed out of February's bedroom
to greet father. I relaxed and flipped through
the copy of Playboy I found in mother's dresser
drawer. I couldn't wait for January to empty my
litter box.