Justice for Lawrence

A Story by SaganPage

Comfortably settled in a room, four floors above the ground, far away from the world below resided a boy. Lawrence was a young growing gentleman, a blank slate per se. The fair sized boy was a sponge to the world around him, willing to obey and to impersonate anything he was intrigued by. Lawrence, however socially inept he may be, was happy with his life. The everlasting love for his mother and all she provided him with was all he needed. He would go to school and learn, come home and enjoy the company of his mother, often playing games and enjoying walks with her. Soon his mother noticed that Lawrence went through a shift in mood like he had been suddenly lost on his path. For fear of Lawrence growing lonely and disconnected she gifted him a Television set for his room. This gave him a window into a world he hadn't yet seen, a window to a social world without needing social skills. He felt found in a time where he had otherwise been lost.

Lawrence had just discovered what would become his favorite television program, titled, Eat like a King! be like a King! The show would host contestants and pit them against each other in an eating contest to find a winner, and crown a King. He became instantly obsessed. Over the next few days, Lawrence became a recluse, leaving only to use the restroom and occasionally eat with his mother. His mother thought nothing of it, she figured because Lawrence was happy and engaged in his show, she could stop worrying about his social handicap. After weeks she would bring him all the food he asked for and serve on his hand and foot. Lawrence stopped leaving his room altogether. Months into is a binge, he had grown from his fair size into a large mound of a boy. Shedding his outgrown clothing and growing his hair out he was set back into a near-primal state. His mother was concerned but did not stop. He refused with grunts and screams to be cleaned, and never cleaned himself. Because of this Rashes and sores became to form around his rear. Festering bumps and infections became littered with fecal matter and urine. Even this did not stop his mother. It was now impossible for Lawrence to leave the upstairs, or his room for that matter; his legs could not heave the amount of weight he had amassed. She became lonely, reminiscing on the walks her and her son would take, the games they’d play, and the conversations they’d have. But she was too afraid to watch Lawrence become lost again without his television.

One weekend, Lawrence’s mother awoke late in the morning. She rose from her bed, puzzled. Usually, she is awoken by her son's commands for food but today … today he was silent. Wrapped in her robe she climbed all three sets of stairs to his room and opened the door. At this point, the enormous, filthy Lawrence had taken up everything in the room beside his television. Rolls and waves of fat cascaded down his chest, covering his legs, feet, and far past them. His head was tilted back with his eyes wide open, he wasn't breathing. The television, still running, played the ending scene of every Eat like a King! be like a King! Episode. The winner stepped up three steps of pure white quartz, to a throne where he was crowned King. The King was a large man, on the cuffs of being immobilized, covered in sweat and food. Lawrence’s mother was horrified.

She collected herself and ran for the door. Hysterically, she hurried through the streets screaming in grief.

“THEY KILLED MY SON, THAT SHOW KILLED MY ONLY SON! - I WANT TO SEE THAT HOST KILLED IN THE STREETS -”

Standing in the center of town she cried and told the masses of her son. Through tears of pain, she wailed,

“ALL MY SON DID WAS WATCH THE WRETCHED PROGRAM! AND THEY TOOK HIM FROM THIS WORLD, TOOK HIM FROM ME.”

The known widow was comforted by the townsfolk. Enraged parents gathered their hunting rifles, their kitchen knives, their garden tools and any multitude of metal implements, and marched for the Eat like a King! be like a King!’s studio.

Set aflame by the mob, the studio was under siege by every parent, widow, and widower in town. Escaping the blaze, the host, Larry Griffin, was caught by the arm by a mob contributor. Shouting he cried

“WHAT HARM HAVE WE DONE? WE’VE DONE NOTHING? I DEMAND AN EXPLAIN-”

Before finishing his sentence, he was stabbed through the throat with a white hilted kitchen knife. Soon, the hilt turned black with the dark rich color of his freshly spilled blood. The patron stripped the knife from his neck, creating a geyser which showering the crowd in the blood of Larry Griffin. The crowd roared with pleasure, parading his now mutilated corpse, while simultaneously being drenched in his blood. Lawrence’s mother watched from afar. Under her breath, intently staring at the lifeless body of Larry Griffin, she spoke,

“I gave all I have left for you Lawrence… Justice.”