Chapter Seven
We will always remember the things we do when we are a teenagers because this is when we are truly alive. We are lost and found at this moment in life, trying to find ourselves in this big massive world, the fact we are just trying makes us alive. Don’t stop trying; you need to promise yourself that.
We are halfway to our apartment, when she pulls out a retractable blade knife, the ones use for cutting papers or doing art crafts in art class. We are closing in to this gas station and I feel like releasing the liquid I am holding in my bladder, the clouds suddenly darken and it’s showing signs of rain. A drip fall, I catch it on my forehead, and she turns to me, offering the knife, “Here,” she says as I take the knife from her hands. “It’s yours. I bought it for you.”
“Why?”
“You like to rip your pants right, I got this for you to rip them pants up,” she laughs.
“Okay, thanks. You don’t have.” I really don’t want this. I don’t want her to give me stuffs. I don’t want to give it back to her when whatever we are doing ends. I can’t let go of this knife. I can’t let go of her too.
“Hey can we stop by to this gas station, I need to use the toilet,” I put the knife in my pocket as I come close to the station, and she follows behind. “It will just be for a while,” I say already here, opening the door to the toilet, it seems there are not many people here today.
The moment I enter the toilet I can see it is dirty and it stinks, from here I can hear the rain waters are dropping like crazy. There are three urinals, I take the one at the edge by the walls, and then in a moment notice a big fat man comes walking into the toilet, I unzip my pants and I think he can hear it too, he unzips his pants as well, and takes the urinal in the middle, next to me.
Why does he have to stand next to me, I feel uncomfortable, he can obviously use the one on the other edge, why does he have to be close to me. Savage.
“Hey,” he says.
I stay quiet, just taking my leak, ignoring him and the rest of the world.
“Hey, boy,” he says again, his staff out, this time he taps my shoulders. I turn to him, and he blinks at me. God, why? He has a scruffy beard, he stares me, studying my body, and then he gazes upon my member down there. I turn away; I try my best to ignore him. “Look at me, look at me.”
He seems angry that I pay no attention to him. He grabs my shirt and then clutches hold of my staff that is still leaking urine, but he does not mind that it got some on his clothes. Matter of fact, he seems to love it. He starts stroking me down there, and I feel disgusted by the touch, “You like that don’t you, bad boy. You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” His lips come in for a kiss, and that’s when I act.
Fast as a magic trick, fast as a bullet I pull the knife out from my pocket, extend it slyly and then just like lighting I stab the man’s neck. Plunge it in, pull it out, then find another part of his neck, and plunge it as deep as I can, and then pull it out. Plunge in and pull it out. He is helpless to begin with. I am a savage. He is a savage. But he deserves this. He had this coming. Don’t touch me. His blood splatters throughout the toilet’s walls and my school uniform.
I don’t stop stabbing him till he drops down to the dirty muck filled tile floor of the toilet, and even then I step his face with my foot. I think I cry a bit. I piss on his dead body, his eyes are open, and so I kick his face. His mouth is open, I kick his face. I kick and kick almost his brain comes out, and so as his eyes.
Amazing how calm I am throughout this turmoil.
I take the knife out and wash myself as best as I can, but my school uniform is drenched with red dye that if I walk out this toilet in this condition I would have five stars on me like the game, GTA. I take off my school uniform; put it in my bag that had a little splatter of blood. I wash my face as best as I can, and take one more last look to the dead man.
As I open the toilet door, and immediately close it behind me, I am dripping wet from washing the blood off. The rain is heavy and Sybilla is waiting outside. “That took you long enough,” she says. “What happen to your shirt?” she observes that I am wearing only an undershirt. “I mean you look sexy and all, but why take it off, it’s raining right now. You want to show me your muscle is that it?” she laughs, not knowing the horrors I just faced.
“Yeah, yeah, come on let’s go,” I pull her away and run to the rain, back to our apartment.
When we got to Block F, running through the showery rain, we are all soaked wet, and I think the rain helped with cleansing the man’s blood from my body.
We enter her house; there is no one here, just us both alone. “Where is everyone?” I ask.
“My sister went to work, we have the whole place to ourselves,” she says this very unsure of herself.
So far I have never seen her mother or father, it is just her sister. Best conclusion is that, her older sister takes care of her then.
She is brighter than the sun that the flowers grow towards her brim instead.
We are in her room. Her room is plain, just like mine, nothing special, and nothing that makes it very girly. All the essentials are here, a bed and a closet. She takes off her shirt and just only wearing her blue thin bra, I can see her nipples poking. She doesn’t take her shorts off though as much as I want her too, I can see the outline of her underwear.
It is still raining outside, but we are laughing and she is comfortable being half naked in front of me that I think we are taking the sunshine right down our throat making us feel the only warmth we need is each other. And if the warmth burns us alive, to die by her side is the heavenliest way to end my life.
Look at this sentence until you realize you aren’t going to find anything more.
I sit on her bed with my back against her wall and she places her phone on the corner of the bed and turns on some music with it. I read her body and the way she moves to the rhythm, her head bops, her hips waves, her lips are pouting very funnily trying to make me laugh, it seems. And after a while, she sits next to me while her phone is playing a slow downbeat song, with overemotional lyrics.
And you’re a liar, at least all of your friends are
And so am I, just typically drowned in my car
It’s my party and I’ll cry to the end
You must try harder than kissing all of my friends
You
Those are the lyrics, and then the drums start to play, what started out as slow turns upbeat and sanguine, but the lyrics are still melodramatic. And I very much so love it. I bop my head to the sound of the guitar.
Salt can kill a snail.
Love is endless
Love is everlasting.
Could have slap your face, but you are loved. And I’m good at the tease, hunt her back to impress, but please don’t please. I want to learn all that she is, uh huh, the jingle of rings make me cry for more. Please listen to some music, when you get bored, don’t do drugs or smoke your life away kids. Please don’t; just fall in love instead because the release is the same. And the pain is more, the ache is unbearable. If you want to kill yourself then fall in love instead, with yourself, with your parents if you have any, or with some random stranger, or maybe just with the stars and the moon because they are always going to be there the next night. But don’t look straight at the sun. There’s no lesson to learn with pounding yourself with things that might kill your insides, uh huh, remember that. Remember it till you die.
Remember that flowers don’t kill themselves, and you are stronger and more beautiful than any flower so there is no point in ending it in your way. Let the world take you, let it. And here is the thing, you are no flower, if you don’t like the position where you are in right now, pluck out and move, just walk away and plant yourself where you really want to be.
She leans in to me and kisses my cheek, “There, you are blessed.”
Do I want to know that her feelings are align with mine?
Will she be mine forever if I say please and thank you?
Please God, let her be mine, I promise not to break her.
Everyone believes in God when they are begging.
She backs away after that kiss, but I just stare her with so much passion I could burst popcorns. Oh dear God, hear goes it. I shove myself to her, I clutch her waist, trying to forget the man I just killed in a dingy toilet half an hour ago, and then I am on top of her with her legs wrapped around my body. I swathed my mouth to hers. I grind her as I do so.
We do this after quite some time; I can feel her breast rubbing against my chest and her nipples prickling my skin, but we stopped when we hear her front door opens.
“Hello, Sybilla? Saida?” a voice belonging to a man announced, requesting presence of the names he is calling. Saida is Sybilla’s older sister. I rarely see her, but just like Sybilla she is beautiful. “Are you girls in here?”
Upon hearing this, Sybilla is struck with fear as if Satan himself was knocking on her doors. We stop making out, she got up, read the wind and find me a place to hide and so push me into her closet, “Stay here, and don’t say anything. Just be quiet please.”
I hid within her clothes, live with her scent, my skin plays with the fabric. There is a small hole in the closet, I take a peek.
“Where have you been honey? Why are you dripping wet?” this man said to her as he finally enters her room, he stands in front of her. Her head is down looking very innocent and fragile. She keeps herself silent, not answering the man.
“Honey!” the man starts to shout, I take a peek through the tiny hole and I can see that he is a tall and big fellow with white hair. “When daddy asks something, you answer okay.”
“I was in school.”
“Now that wasn’t hard right?” he said.
And then BAM! He slaps her so hard, she fell to her bed. She cries immediately, I can hear it. Her angels wings were chopped off and her skin bruised from the cold hard sting of the man’s backhand. While Sybilla is on the bed, the man goes on top of her with his pants down and her shorts and underwear on the floor.
I watch specks of her crack, as he has his way with her body greedily. His smiles were like the creatures of the damned that dance and creeps the backyards of Hell. He ravages her like he is eating meat, a piece of meat. She cries garishly, but he closes her mouth with his big hands, he pushes it in to her forcefully and a part of her tears up. He hits repeatedly, until he is truly satisfied, until he totally made sure she is broken like shattered glasses smashed to oblivion. Her body mangles on her bed as he is finish, and oh how the blood of her flows out like the stream to which the river Styx is made off. Her legs were ready to be crucified, and I do, I want to spry out from this closet and kill this savage.
When he is done, he pulls up his pants back, zips it, and kisses Sybilla’s head as she is lying there like a dead corpse. The man’s saliva on her hair reminds me of my hatred towards cats. I would kill a cat, I would kill this man.
I close my eyes, take a deep breathe, please God when I end this man’s life lock him out of your gates for he will soon beg you to open it.
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