[ WP ] Your archenemy is an inanimate object

It just stood there. Stood there with it's smug look and firm legs in the middle of the kitchen. I hated every morning waking up and looking at this stupid table, yet everyone else did n't seem to have the same problem I had with it. I will have my revenge today. 
 
 The night before I had woken up to nature calling. Groggily, I slowly made my way to the toilet to relieve myself. My feet shuffled swiftly along the hardwood floors through the dimly lit hallway. The moon and the street light outside shone through a window just making out the shapes and size of the corridor. As I neared the bathroom, I quickly looked into Mia's room. She was fast asleep clutching her teddy bear. She went to sleep quite easily so there would be no coming into our room later on. 
 I got to the bathroom and let my bladder empty with closed eyes. Upon finishing up I finally felt how dry my mouth was. It felt almost like I ate Mia's bear in my sleep. I washed my hands and decided to get to the fridge downstairs for some cool orange juice. 
 I walked out as I rounded the corner and walked downstairs feeling my way down the wooden handrail. It was still dark downstairs but more illuminated than the hallway. I felt my eyes were still very heavy as I turned left past the family pictures on the wall and entered the kitchen. I yawned and rubbed my closed eyes as I walked towards the fridge. 
 
 BAM! 
 
 `` Ahh fuck! You piece of shit!'' I writhed in agaony as I cursed the table my little toe decided to find on the way to the fridge. I tried to comfort myself while I continued to quietly condemn the kitchen table to hell. No one woke up when I screamed as I realized I was quite awake. The stinging pain in my toes began to subside and I slowly started to get feeling back in them. I stood there angry and disappointed in the dark kitchen. Staring at the table I began to hear it. It was laughing in my brain. Was I crazy? Am I hearing things? Maybe I am still very sleepy after all? I questioned myself for a few moments. I decided that it was making a mockery out of me. It had done this to me one too many times and this was the last time. It kept its cackle in my brain as I plotted it's death. 
 `` In the morning you're mine''. 
 
 I grabbed the table and went out the back. The wife and kids went out for dancing lessons and soccer games so I had the house to myself. I was going to be rid of the wretched table and I was going to have the last laugh. 
 Smashing the legs off the table felt good but beating the table top with my my trusty hammer felt better. I kept smashing the table to pieces until a splinter shard flew up and inserted itself into my arm. The damn table was going down swinging but I was n't about to lose this fight. Blood trickled down my arm as I gathered my newspapers and put them onto my makeshift firepit. It was made with a few spare bricks laying around the garage. Now it was time to light it up. The fire started small and I proceeded to load the fire with the remnants of my arch enemy. Slowly but surely I kept feeding the fire with table wood and smiled. 
 
 Memories started to flood back to all the times the table had ruined my life. The table was first my parents old table. We had it in the house where I grew up. I remembered falling off it as a baby and running into it as a child. At the time i just passed it off as just being a silly hyper active kid. Then I recalled passing out on it as a drunken 18 year old. That time the legs gave way and I went to the hospital for some stitches when the tiles kissed my head. That was the last encounter for a while and I was happy to see the ass of it until my wife and I moved into our home and the table back into my life. My mother and father had kept the table in storage and offered the table to us when we moved in. I protested but the boss fell in love with it and took the table. 
 Many days and nights my knees and toes were on the losing side to this table. When my children were born, the table then turned its attention to them. It was hurting the people I loved the most. I recalled the day I knocked its legs off and put it out the front for someone to take it. The next day, Gary from two houses down decided to fix it up and told me it was too good a table and had too many good memories for the kids to get rid of. The wife agreed and yet again the table was existent in my life. 
 My thoughts recollected again to when the garbage men almost took it with them, but my wife, again was there to accept it back from them. That day I was so close... 
 
 As I stared at the flames, I threw the last piece of unholy wood into the fire. I began to laugh. Eventually laughing maniacally like the Joker. Then the laughter in my head started again. It joined my own laughter like a choir. Different tones harmonized with each other in a creepy melody. The table still had n't given up. 
 
 I launched into a coughing fit then. As I laughed I inhaled smoke from the fire. Black, toxic smoke filled my lungs from the table wood burning up and then my eyes began to water. I coughed and spluttered and I was engulfed by thick black smoke as it filtered into my body. My nostrils burned with the ungodly stench of dying kitchen table. I could n't get away. I was trapped. I fell to the floor and clutched my chest as I tried to drag myself away from the smoke and fire. Crawling and coughing and the booming laughter in my head made me think that the table had won. I was defeated. 
 
 I lay flat on my back, tears seeping from my closed eyes. I began to drift. Seeing visions of the table against a dark black background and the babbling sniggering in my head. 
 Then all of the sudden the smoke began to dissipate. It was becoming more and more smokeless as I felt the subtle wind taking it into another direction. I opened my eyes blinking and the laughing began to fade. It faded to nothing. I looked over to see the fire still burning with what was left of the table. It was over. I had finally won. The table was no more. The fire had taken its course and the battle was won. I felt a calm come over me and my senses were regaining their power. 
 
 `` Dad, what are you doing? ``, chimed Mia and Zander as they ran playfully into the yard. 
 `` Go and get your mother, I got smoke inhalation.''
