Hate me

Knox

Past…

“Kermit?”  

Reptiles didn’t typically respond to humans like dogs did, but I was just a kid, so I didn’t know any better. 

In my defense, I had taught him a few things, like how to eat from my hand, so maybe he’d come when called, too…but no such luck. 

Worried, I checked every nook and cra

Every hiding spot I could think of for a lizard. 

But he was nowhere to be found. 

It didn’t make sense because I always made sure to put him back in his cage after I played with him. 

I asked my mom if she’d seen him earlier, but she said she hadn’t. 

Dad would be home from work any minute now, so the sooner I found him, the better. 

He’d be angry if he stumbled upon Kermit, and I shuddered to think of what he would do. 

“Every action has a consequence.”

Although I suppose I could play dumb and let him think Kermit just wandered into the house. 

But then he’d blame my mother for not keeping things tidy and Kermit would be out on the street. 

“Trenton,” my dad bellowed from upstairs. “Get upstairs. Now.” 

Shoot. 

I quickly straightened my spine and marched up the staircase. 

“Go wash your hands for di

I watched in confusion as she grabbed a few plates and dishes from the cabinet. 

I expected my mother to be cooking di

We rarely had takeout, so I was excited. 

After doing as I was told, I sat down at the table.

Like one big happy family. 

Just the way he wanted it. 

I made a face when I looked down at my plate. I expected Chinese food or Pizza. But this was something I didn’t recognize. 

My mother nudged me with her foot under the table. 

“Is there a problem?” my father barked, those dark eyes narrowing. 

I quickly shook my head. “No.” 

“No…what?’ 

“No, Sir.” 

“I figured we could all try something new for a change,” my father declared. “Dig in.” 

I grabbed my fork, hoping it tasted good because it didn’t look that appetizing. 

The last time I refused di

Suppressing a shudder, I closed my eyes and brought my fork to my mouth. 

It was weird. Kind of crunchy with a strange aftertaste.  

“What is it?” I asked. 

My father smiled, his teeth flashing white before his expression hardened. 

“Barbeque lizard.”