Billy and the Passionfruit, Part 4 of 7.

Disclaimer: Same again. Not mine.

Billy was stunned. His lips trembled. His eyes began to water.

"Wh-wh-what's wrong w-with s-saying p-p-passionfruit?" he sobbed. A sparrow flying above him choked in shock and fell to its death in a water fountain.

Billy wailed pitifully. He ran down the pavement all the way home and burst through the door and dashed into the kitchen and buried his wet face in his mother's apron.

Billy's mother was worried, since the school day wasn't over. She wondered what Billy was doing at home. "Billy," she said placatingly, "What are you doing at home?"

Billy sniffled. "I g-g-got expelled!" he cried. His mother gasped.

"Expelled!" she said, thunderstruck. "Why, this is outrageous! How could you have been expelled?"

"I d-d-dunno," cried Billy. "I w-was j-just explaining t-t-to the p-principal that the t-teacher w-w-wanted us to d-draw a p-p-passionfruit and th-then h-mmmmrrrrrffffffff!" Billy grabbed at the hand that was clapped to his mouth.

Billy's mother looked livid. She cast her eyes around furtively. "What did you just say?" she hissed.

Billy was petrified. "P-p-passionfruit?" he said tentatively.

"Passionfruit?" Billy's mother spluttered. "PASSIONFRUIT? HOW DARE YOU SAY PASSIONFRUIT? Up to your room at once, young man! Wait until your father hears about this!" She shooed him angrily from the kitchen, slammed the door at took a deep breath to calm herself down.

Billy trudged sadly up the stairs and into his room. He started to cry again. "I d-d-don't understand!" he sniffled. He hugged his bruised plushie toy.

A tribe of passionfruits appeared out of nowhere in front of Billy and sprouted evil grins. They built a fire and began dancing around it, chanting and murmuring in low voices. The passionfruit with a white-feathered headdress brought out a dead sparrow and placed it on the fire, saying a fervent prayer to the passionfruit gods. The smell of burning flesh filled the air...

Billy was awoken from his stupor by the sound of the doggy-flap in his door being pushed open, admitting his cold dinner. He ate slowly and miserably.

BANG! Billy leapt backwards onto his bed as his door was blasted clean off its hinges. The dust settled to reveal a monstrous, muscular form.

Billy's father stalked into the room. He slammed his thick arms onto the posts of Billy's bed. His voluminous mustache quivered. A large purple vein pulsed on his forehead.

"PASSIONFRUIT?" he roared. "PASSIONFRUIT? HOW DARE YOU SAY PASSIONFRUIT!"

Billy's father stepped backwards, closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He licked his lips. Then his eyes snapped back open to reveal angry dark pupils.

Billy whimpered. "I'm sor-"

"SHUT UP!" Billy's father bellowed. "NO EXCUSES, YOU LITTLE INGRATE! I feed you, I clothe you, and THIS IS HOW YOU..."

Billy's father coughed. He spit a morsel of murky yellow phlegm onto the floor. "Out," he breathed angrily, pointing to the door. "Get out of this house. You're no longer my son."

Billy burst into tears. His father stomped out of the room.

Five minutes later Billy left the house, still sobbing, with a small backpack slung over his shoulder and a plushie toy clutched in his white, trembling hand.

To be continued...