The Melon Headed People: American Horror Story

In Connecticut, Michigan and Ohio are horror stories about people with watermelons heads that live in the forest and eat other human beings.

I have a story to share whether its true, fact or fiction remains to be seen.

WHO WANTS A SLICE OF WATERMELON

My cousin has come home from being institutionalized and he wanted to see his father but he could not. I met him to bring him home. I said that he was lucky to feel this for his father because his father surely did not care for him. My cousin comes from a long line of father’s boys.

I did not expect too much change in my cousin’s behavior because he was institutionalized for several years and that he would get into minor problems such as drinking and smoking and sexing. But his first day home, I did expect for him to act normal and celebrating being home with his family.

We were walking down a long hallway that suddenly turned into a dark tunnel and we heard a white man who wore a blue jump suit or blue shirt shout:

WHO WANTS A SLICE OF WATERMELON.

We made a few stops along the way and I thought how could this man still be running behind us. Just like in an American horror movie most of the people who were in the hallway were gone and it was just my cousin and me.

Or so we thought, until we saw a second white man running behind us. He looked very sacred. I got nervous and told my cousin and the second man that were in serious trouble with no way out, and the tunnel became like a funnel and grew narrower. It became a death channel.

Somehow I remembered an elevator near the end of the tunnel and that if we got there in time then we would be saved and rise up to the top. But when we reached the location of the elevator it was gone. With faith and survival alone the three of us pushed forward, dare not go backward because the man in blue was still chasing us.

WHO WANTS A SLICE OF WATERMELON

WAS ALL WE HEARD ECHOING IN THE HALLWAYS

Miraculously, when we reached a dead end to a white door we were only a few feet from the man in blue. In panic I pushed and the door opened and a stream of white sun light and fresh air greeted the three of us and we were glad in knowing that we were saved but were we.

I ordered my cousin to run ahead of me and climb a flight of steps to safety because we were in a sub-basement. I was willing to sacrifice my life for his.

We got to the top of the stairs and I told him not to look back. Never look back. But I knew that it was not in his young nature to listen to authority figures and he experience too much in his life.

To my horror and shock, their they stood my cousin, the second white man and the man in blue. Like  three witches ready to perform a Satanic ritual.

The man in blue was not the monster, he was either warning us or was a victim of the second white man. The second white man who appeared normal was the evil one. He took out a long machete and hit the man in blue over the head and slip the man in blue in half like a watermelon. There was nothing I could do.

The man in blue tried to slice the second white man in half with the machete but nothing happen to him. But the blue man was split into two equals halves.

I screamed in horror as to the fate of my cousin who was still watching all this happen in close range. Instinctively, I shouted to him not to touch the machete because it was possessed with evil or was handled by an evil person. And, if he did touch the machete that he would be the next target or victim.

In spite of my warning, there was nothing on Earth I could do but watch my cousin in a possessed state take the machete from the skull of the man in blue. Then both white men joined together and then split into like a cell germinating- one flew to the east and the other flew to the west. The purpose to kill my cousin and perpetrate frontal and dorsal attack.

The two killers moved very slowly through the air like ghosts but with purpose, there was a grace period before they grew strong enough to out right kill my cousin and in the mean time I could seek the help of powerful sorcerers to save my cousin. If the two tried to approach him and they did, they suffered and electronically shock that disabled momentarily.

I picked my cousin like a babe in arms and looked in squares in his eyes and asked him WHY did he touch the machete, and his response was “I have seen too much in my life’.  He was ready to die. I said that he must not give in this and that we would go on fighting, that my magic is not strong enough but we have time to seek the help of others who are more powerful before its too late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About melbrake

Mel Brake is an awarding winning Philadelphia based poet/singer/song writer, whose poetry has appeared in several media outlets and journals, including Philadelphia Poets 2007, 2008 and 2009, Mad Poets Review, Fox Chase Review, and The Philadelphia Bulletin. In addition, Long Island Sounds: An Anthology of Poetry, Writing Outside The Lines (WOSTL) Anthology, Word Riot Magazine, The New Verse News, Word Salad Magazine and Poetry Ink 2010 has published his works. Recently, his band, the Mel Brake Family Band performed a benefit concert at Cross Road Café in Delaware County. He is the Founder and Executive Director of MPW, a non-profit organization, focusing on using the arts to reach children in the Tri-state area. In addition, his first chapbook, “Obama Poetry Project” is available at: MelBrakEpress.blogspot.com.
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