S.I.C.K.A Story by J.benjamin RoseHopeless, an Israeli boy begins his descent.So, I choose Kelevra.
Even I have fallen victim to myself, first and last. I remember the moment in question while she screams into my ear. It is something to remind her she exists. I hear it no more than I do her breath on my neck. I wish I cared, I truly do. Instead, I stand no more than necessary and punch her squarely in the face. She is stunned and silly looking as blood gushes from her nose and lips. She crab walks from the wall and stands. A word is scraped into the side of my coffee table, "Kelevra." And I feel something break my scalp.
The first thing i smell, my first awareness, is the odor of piss. My hair is wet and the cops are laughing. "See if he ever hits her again." I realize quickly, he is not referring to the urine in my hair, he's speaking of the bone jutting from my forearm and whatever is inhibiting the natural working order of my left eye. I'm naked but for my new bruises, ornate cuts and scars of an especially decorative christmas past. It is the robe of madness the mask of psychotic delight. "Chuck, CHUCK! Look at this fuckers back. Holeeee sheeee-it." "Yeah, I seen it" he sounds bored. "Hey, HEY! HEY F****R! Who done that!? You do that!? HUH!?! HUH!? You do that to yerself f****r!?" I don't respond so he sticks his foot through the bars and taps the bone. The pain floods my body and just before I pass out, I cum. He vomits for annotations' sake and I laugh my way into another dream.
Paul, did you write this? Paul, did you write this?
I understand the question, of course I do even if it is in English, but I don't want to answer. I could say I found it but she would say it is my handwriting. This would be accompanied by her reaching for another selection from my notebook and holding them aloft, side by side. She would feel smart and i wouldnt have to speak for awhile. Seems to me that's all adults really want; to remind you they are smarter than you, can control you if necessary, flew their superiority. Once you are reminded, you are free to go, I know what you're up to buddy, ok now off you go to kill a few more kittens or masturbate while slapping a stapler against your chest.
Paul, I'm worried about you, we're all worried about you. Paul? Paul, are you listening to me?
Tapping my foot, I glance at her.
Paul, what are we to make of this? Paul?
I push my my foot deeper into my shoe. I hate hearing my name.
Paul? Paul, are you ok?
I stare at my shoe and consider slapping her across the face with the tack-filled bloody sock residing therein.
Paul? Talk to me. Tell me what's happeneing, what are you thinking... please?
I want to but she is ill equipt. We both are.
So, I choose Kelevra and I am filled with fear. © 2008 J.benjamin RoseAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
179 Views
3 Reviews Added on May 22, 2008 Last Updated on May 25, 2008 AuthorJ.benjamin RoseChapel Hill, NCAboutBorn In Alabama, I have traveled through fourteen countries, been shot, had bombs explode around me, been divorced, have a son by a wonderful person (and excellent writer) and had hundreds of jobs.. more..Writing
|