His father saw him first. In his bleary state the man didn't notice the black blotches of blood and tissue trailing from the bathroom into the kitchen. His patent leather slippers squelched on slick bits of flesh, ground the gore into the recently cleaned carpet. Cameron dropped his useless spoon and gulped down his breakfast while thin cascades of pink milk dribbled from the corners of his red, red mouth. The scream woke the rest of the family. I watched from my attic window while an ambulance carried Cameron away on a stretcher. They'd bandaged him up, stuck tubes and needles in him, tried
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