The Rat - Chapter 1

He's in, the boy is in and he's gonna have to react and be vigilant

Birth. The worm, the wings, and the gun.

In my room, a pistol and me. My father had it made a few weeks before before i was born. A pistol i received when I was 16, it’s mine now but I’m not sure what to do with it. It was originally supposed to be rightfully mine when I’ll be 18 next year, when I’m supposed to become a man. He died a few months after he gave to me so it’s just mine now. I’m not even close to being a man yet. I’m just a boy, just a worm.

New year’s passes. And I’m still not sure what to do.

My uncle stopped by, I tried to avoid him but he caught me walking down the stairs.

“Hey boy, come help me clean this rifle.”

“Alright”

30-06 hunting rifle.

“Gale. You’re gonna be a man soon. Are you ready for that?”

“No not really. Were you?”

“Somewhat. Having a nice girlfriend sure did encourage me to be a man. Maybe that’s what you need, a girlfriend.”

I take the cleaning rod out of the barrel. “I need to go back to my room.”

I laid down in bed and felt a bump in the middle of it. I looked under the bed, nothing but some trash. I looked in between the bed expecting a pea but still nothing. I get back on my bed, the bump is gone. I wave it off. I go to sleep.

Dreams. A squeaky sound outside my window. I’m still in bed but I can’t get up, nor do I want to. It’s a squeaky sound like a door hinge being opened and closed. Awake in the dream, the room changes. A chair is different, some books aren’t there, I open my eyes, the window is gone. The squeak is outside my door now. It’s creeping up on me, flanking me. But, it only knows my room. Does it know where I am? I slump lower into my mattress and bundle blankets on me. I hear my door squeak as the squeak enters my room. It’s slower now, not as rapid as it was when outside my window. I feel a blanket slowly pulled off of me. My eyes are closed. My left hand tenses and so does my left calf. It pulls up another blanket but I have four on me. It puts down the two and squeaks out of my room. I wake up with blankets on me, I can’t tell if that’s why I’m sweating or because of the dream. Either way I’m shaking from something.

We go to church on Sunday, just mommy and me. I see my uncle there too, his wife and his kids. Some people I’ve met at school, mostly strangers, and lastly the father. I sit with my mother in the center left of the church. After service mother went to talk to the father while my uncle talked to me.

“Gale, you think you could be a man of god like father over there?”

“no , not really.”

“Why not? I’ve seen you when you do talk. You use a lot pretty words, speak well. You aren’t hard to look at either.”

His last line caught me off guard. “Thanks?”

“I’m just saying, you could probably make it in entertainment if you want to.”

“Ok, john. It looks like my mother is ready to go.”

“See you tonight Gale.”

I half wave to him as I rush out the door.

I try to stay in my room the whole night but John came up and opened the door.

“Gale…  let’s clean your pistol.”

“Alright.”

He brings out the cloth, cleaning rod, and oil. I sit down at the table.

“Gale…  you know how to…  take it apart.”

Oh no, he’s drunk. He seemed off when he at my doorway but now i can smell it on his breath. I clean the pistol how I always would.

“You know earlier when I said you were pretty. At the church.”

“You didn’t really say pretty but ok.”

“Look, uhh, all I was saying is that. You look good. Maybe, maybe even with some makeup, a wig, you could look just like a girl. I see your mom in there. After this, do you want to try my old hobby.”

“Ok, I’ve cleaned the gun. I’m gonna go back to my room.”

He grabs my arm, “No. No, you can’t. You didn’t oil the slide yet.”

I sit back down.

“If you’ve got any genes of your father. You’ll do this with me.”

“What do genes have to do with cross dressing?”

“You’re father and would dress up together... and pretend to be sisters.”

“Well we’re not gonna become niece and auntie.”

His head slumps down, “Gale. When your dad died. I couldn’t do it anymore. But since you are his blood. If you’re anything like your dad you should at least try it.”

“No, I’m not going to participate in your sick act.” I put the slide back on the pistol and start walking up the stairs. John sluggishly follows me. He struggles on the stairs. I’m worried about what he’s gonna do. I don’t want makeup for a wig on me, let alone him trying to dress me up in skirts and crop tops. I run up to my room and lock the door behind me. Maybe I can bluff that I have ammo. I find the magazine in the case and put it in the well. He bangs on the door and in a drunken slur spews, “Your dad and I were so much happier when we were sisters, up until the day he died we were happy sisters. You gotta be my niece Gale, I’m your aunt. You’ll be happier this way I promise.” He hits the door more. “Please let me in.” He slumps down and covers the light that’s coming through the door. Now it’s only moonlight. My father who gave me this pistol also dressed like a girl. Mother? I turn on my lamp. Oh how badly I wish I could shoot my uncle. He’s pathetic. Disgusting. I go to bed with my pistol. I dream of cross dressers swarming me, telling me how pretty I am. I pull the trigger with their wigs in my sights. Nothing happens, I have no ammo. I drop the pistol and try to grab their throats but my forearms are so weak. I could only muster a gentle touch against their adam’s apple bearing cocksucking throats. I imagine choking my uncle.

I wake up before the sun. my alarm clock is blinking 12, we must lost power for a moment last night. I open my squeaky door and almost step into my sleeping uncle waiting outside my door like a dog. I carefully step over him, and go downstairs. Bacon, eggs, and toast I prepare for myself. It’s a school day today.

I show up early which is not good for me because a teacher pulls me into his classroom. He sits me in front of his desk. “You’re not doing well Gale.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s happening?”

“Not sure.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up.”

“A family man.”

“Why?”

“Uh. I-” I was being completely genuine, at least i thought, but it feels like I’ve been caught in a lie.

“You don’t know anything Gale.”

“Y-yeah sure. I really need to go to my homeroom.”

“This is your homeroom Gale.”

“O-oh right” I get up and sit down in my seat. Unsure of what just happened. I just know i’m glad it stopped. The bell rings. Students muster to the class and the door squeaks with each  person who enters. A girl approaches me, “Are you new here?”

I don’t lift my head up. “No, I’ve been here the whole time.”

“You mean like the whole day?”

“No.”

“Ok. I’ll see you later.”

I’ve never seen her before. It always turn out to be such a boring day.

On my home, she approaches me again.

“Hey, Gale right?”

“Yeah.” I try walking faster but she keeps walking with me.

“Umm, this kind of sounds weird but will you let me put makeup on you?”

“No. Why?” I actually look at her this time.

“Well my friends and I were just talking and you’d definitely pass for my sister with just a little makeup.”

“What about my hair.”

“It’s ok I have a few wigs we can use.”

“Just so you know I never said I would do this.”

“Yeah well-”

“I really have to be going home now.” I start jogging and turn the corner.

I hid in an alley. I didn’t feel like going back home and seeing my uncle, or not seeing my mom. I also didn’t want to risk being out in the open and being seen by that girl or one of her friends. I hadn’t been doing much in here. Only trying to step on rats and roaches. There’s a dumpster I’m curious about but it smells just horrible, I can hardly be around it at all. Curiosity gets the best of me. The lid squeaks as I open in and the smell gets even worse. Rats, so many dead rats gorged and mashed together. In the middle of rats, one seems to still be breathing, tortured and disabled but breathing.

The lid squeaks as I close it. I open the lid again. It’s not breathing anymore. There’s another squeak as I close it

. Little phantom. I leave the gravesite now. I don’t want to be haunted or worse; possessed. On my home it rained heavy. Maybe god was upset by the death of that rat. Maybe his death was unjust. When I get inside my shoes squeak on the wood. Until I take them off of course. I go upstairs to find my uncle waiting for me at my doorway sitting like a dog. I pet him on his wig as I enter my room to discover I left my window open. Rain has soaked my bed and the wood flooring, even some girly clothes my uncle laid out for me. When I try to close my window, well that’s the thing, there is no window. It’s completely gone. The tree outside squeaks. Then I hear it behind me, my uncle barking at it as it comes up the stairs. A rat scurries up, squeaking the whole time, evading my uncle’s bite, and getting into my room. It breathes heavily. I try to step on it but the rat runs faster and jumps into the skirt. I pick up the skirt and start to smother it. In a squeaky voice, “Stop, you kill me it’s on your hands. I want to help. I’m a rat who never faced the trial of cat.” I start crushing it harder, It’s voice is even more squeaky and obviously gasping for air, “I’ll kill you stupid f**k. Stupid f**k stupid f**k stupid f**k stupid f**k. Stupid f**k… stupid f**k… stupid… I hate… you. .. . ….f**k.” In a final pitiful squeak it dies in my skirt. I open the skirt, An eye popped out and it spit up blood. I don’t trust it. I fold the skirt over and set it on the ground then stomp on it. It sounds like a squeaky toy. I open the skirt to find it completely bloody. The guts are hanging out. I fold it back and throw the skirt out the window. As I saw it fall onto the grass, I notice the sun falling below the horizon. The orange is gone and everything is becoming a dark blue. I see the northern star and a second which must be God praising me for rejecting and defeating the rat.

The light outside wakes me up. I open my windows expecting the sun to hit me but it hasn’t peaked the horizon yet. I have time. I put on my day clothes. Eat meat, and run outside. I forgot what I was doing. I go back inside and lay on the bed again. It’s a school day today. I’ll be late today. It’s ok. I don’t mind. I don’t think anyone there minds either. I take a short nap. 1 hour later I get up and eat breakfast again, go out and detour as much as I can. After seeing the rat in the dumpster, I’ve been more wary of the alleys. Especially after that weird dream it gave me. I don’t really remember falling asleep though. The school is just in sight and I see this girl again. We end up stopping at a crosswalk.

“Hi! What was your name again?”

“Gale.”

“Gale? I’m Joy!”

“Hi Joy.”

“Have you considered my offer of putting makeup on you?”

“No, I can’t. I don’t want to. A few nights ago, my uncle…”

“Oh, the uncle huh? Me too. Sorry for bringing up the makeup thing. I just didn’t really know.”

“It’s fine I guess.” I would describe her but I haven’t looked at her at all. I suppose I should try. “You said I’d look like your sister.” I say while looking at her.

“Yes, we have similar noses, and eyes, and I’m pretty sure some stuff is spaced similarly too.”

Remembering back to the last time I looked in a mirror, which was a while ago, I can’t say she’s wrong. Is this what my uncle meant? I’m becoming older. It sounds ridiculous but now that I think about it, the whole becoming a man thing could have just been him trying to get me into what my dad and him did. Makeup, dresses and such. Just a trick. The crosswalk lights flashes.

“What do you do after school?”

“I just stay home.”

“Do you want to walk with me after school?”

“No not really.”

We’re on campus and I walk to my class and she walks to her’s. I just realized tomorrow is new years. I’m going to be 18 in February. Just before Valentine’s Day. The teacher talks, we take notes, and the day ends. There just isn’t much else to say. Joy approaches me after school.

“Hi, I understand past things can make you antisocial and shut people out, god knows that’s what happened to me. But looking back I regret rejecting and pushing away people every time they just wanted to talk.”

“Hindsight’s 20/20, you never know. Maybe I just love isolation.”

“Also, my uncle is picking me up after work but he doesn’t have to if we hang out.”

You see. It’s just a trap. Using me just to get her way, “No, I really just want to go home.”

“Oh. alright.” She quietly quivers “i could just get one of my friends. I guess.”

I start walking home, no detours. I need to be in my room right now. I’ve only talked to her twice and I’m tired of her. How old is she? 16 maybe 17, I guess I should find out. In my room everything is the same as I left it. The girl clothes on the floor, the lamp off, I look out the window and find the bloodied skirt open and the rat gone.

“Hey Gale.” It squeaks. “So you’re pretty? That’s the word on the street.”

“Rat.” I mumble.”You’re dead.”

“There are millions of me, I can’t die.”

“No, you’re dead. I’m right. You’re dead.”

“It’s true I’m dead.”

“Then come out and stop breathing.”

“Come on, shoot me with your gun. You’ve gotta shoot me you know.”

“Why can’t I just rip you in half?”

“You stomped me before and what good did you do? It was nothing, There was nothing to show.”

I sit down on my bed, talking to the clothes on the ground.”I’m not sure what to say.”

“When you saw me in that dumpster you know we were meant to be. I’m your Juliet, admit it.”

“I’m not your anything rat. I’m anything that I want.”

“So what do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, you can’t be anything without me, even your uncle said it. You’re going to be a man soon. You’re father is dead, your mother isn’t around, and your uncle is a sissy. I am everything you could want.”

“What could you possibly offer me.”

“I’ll make you into the man of your dreams.”

I step down the ground and kneel down quietly. I slowly push my hand toward the bump under the clothes and quickly grapple it. It’s in my hand now, squirming again. This time I pull the clothes off of the rat’s head.

“Hurt me Gale.”

“For what price?”

“Your boyhood. Be a man, Gale. Hurt me.”

“Do you feel pain?”

“What did it sound like.”

“Ok.”

I go to desk drawer and pull out scissors. I snip off his nose which is then followed by squealing and squeaking. Then his left ear. Squealing. Squeaking. And finally ending in whimpering. “Rat rat rat rat rat rat. Go away. Dumb rat.”

“Ugghhhh.” It vomits. On my hand. It smells horrible of course but I still don’t let it go.

“Ew!” I say jokingly.

It sprays me in the eyes with the blood and pus that start coming out of its nose like a high pressure hose. The blood and pus mixture lubricates my hand and the rat is able to escape out the window but not before it bites my ankle a few times. I wipe away the rat’s fluids, and my tears of failure. I look down at my shoes, standing in the puddled excess that don’t quite mix together like oil and water. The fumes fill my nose like gasoline. I step out of the puddle and slump onto my bed. The end gets wet from my shoes and spreads further throughout the sheets. I can feel the fumes’ lingering sting up my nostrils to the bottom of my throat. I feel so much pain but I can’t help but so tired. So so so tired. I fall asleep, but I’m not even under my sheets.

Morning again. The cocktail is still on my shoes, the stain on my sheets remain. I’m under my blankets, the puddle is gone. I reach over to my nightstand. I feel around the top, following the grooves and rough cuts from my knife. Speaking of, where is it. I open my eyes and gaze on the top of my night stand. Nothing is there, usually a lot is. I promise. I stare at it for a while wondering what to do. Wondering when it’s time to wake up. I force my legs off the bed onto the ground and awkwardly slide the rest of my body off until I’m standing up straight. Well as straight as I can, my head slumps and I can’t seem to erect it. What happened? I’m unusually tired. I walk to the side of the nightstand and find all the papers, trash, and miscellaneous things seemingly swiped off. Presumably from the rat’s escape, or maybe a tussle in sleep. It’s not worth picking it up. Yet still where is my knife? The rat must have grabbed it. Yes, it must be true. The sun is up, I should be in school. I should see the girl that probably likes me.

Unchanged and unhinged I find myself on the high school campus. I see the girl, the Joy. She must be going to her first class. Maybe. She doesn’t seem to joyful, her feet shuffling, kicking up the concrete and her head isn’t even up to appreciate the flat square concrete buildings. I believe in hell, but I also believe in hyperbole and outright lies. Along with the breeze, I move toward her waiting for a chance to talk maybe. I run ahead of her and hold the door open.

“Oh hi Gale!” She says before I can which slightly irritates me

“Hi Joy, how have you been?” I say to her as she walks into the hallway and of course I follow.

“Oh, I’ve just been fine. My uncle didn’t bother me too much. How have you been.”

A demonic rat is trying to kill me  “I’ve been fine and I’ve been thinking.”

“Haha, thinking about what?” She says half expecting what I think she’s expecting.

“Well I’ve just had an epiphany last night or so.” I could die, from a f*****g a rat. Or I’m slipping and I can never return.

“Ok and about what Gale?!” Impatience “What’s so important?”

“Maybe we should see each other sometime outside of school?”

“Very upfront Gale, very out of character.” She saw through my facade. “Ok, I’m free today if you are” Or maybe not.

“Haha yeah, I’m always free. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen my mother.”

The bell rings throughout the hall. She waves me bye and briskly speed walks to class, but I stay here wearing the clothes from yesterday and without a backpack full of books and pencils. I’ve never felt more out of place.

After school, Joy.

“Joy… Joy. Joy!” I yell walking to her. “What are we doing?”

“Oh hi Gale, I’m not sure yet. I don’t live that far from here. How about that?”

“Y-yeah, your house is fine!” I try to say with enthusiasm as to comfort her.

We talk a little bit about mostly useless things, like new things coming out, music, movies, books and such, well she was mostly talking while I was mostly thinking about what to do with her. I could make her fall in love with me, we could start a family together and be happy. A child with my genes. This option seems the least consequential so I’ll go with it. I should have been doing this sooner. I’ve never thought about dying until the rat came, I was only able to hurt it because it let me. It’s forced me to do this planning. I just have to make sure I don’t die before we breed. Ah, her house, very similar to mine, and everyone else’s. She holds the door open for me. Her living room is kept tidy with lots of pictures of her, her father, and mother hung on the walls and stairwell.  A tv, couch, two chairs, and she guides me upstairs to her room. I stare up as she each foot of her raises higher than the other, smiling back at me with every step to make sure I don’t lag, I stare up in awe of her excitement.

“So this is my room.” She humbly expresses with a sigh as we enter the first door on the right. Not as many posters as I was expecting but it is nonetheless still ‘girl’. Clothes, stuffed animals, and mirrors everywhere. “Sit there,” She points to the seat in front of the vanity mirror. Of course I oblige, I await what is to come. I see joy picking up the makeup in front of me. “Let’s put on that make up now ok?” I don’t respond. 30 minutes later After she’s done all her brushing and marking and blending I open my eyes. She did my makeup like she did her’s today. She presses our faces together in front of the vanity to compare and contrast. I can feel the heat coming from her face, I think she feels mine too. I stop being blinded by our blush and look. Wow, we really do look like sisters. I am, dare say, pretty. Not gorgeous or beautiful, just pretty and I’m content with that. I really do look like a girl. Is this my birthright? I see her eyes stray from my face and then make one of sheer disgust. “Ew! A rat!” I dart up and strike at it like a dart. Like any amatuer dart player, I miss the bullseye. Letting go of my handful of nothing, I try again but again nothing. It escapes the room and into the bathroom. I run into it and shut the door, joy is close behind and puts clothes under the door to seal the gap. The rat stands at the edge of the tub, fur matted with dry blood, missing ear and missing nose. It breathes slow like a human. In its usual squeaky voice, it speaks, “Gale, look at yourself.” I actually look at myself in the mirror on the medicine cabinet. “You weren’t meant for this, you were meant for better things.” Brief pause. “Hold me.”

“Where’s my knife.”

“I have it somewhere, i took the role of a pack rat.’

“I want it back.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

My blink feels like an hour, “I hate you.”

“Why?”

“Because I do.” Another hour.

Joy knocks on the door, “Are you alright? Have you killed the rat?”

“Yeah I’m about to.” I reach out with my bare hand and it  bites like a snake. I can already feel its saliva coagulating with my blood. I reach out with my second and wring it by the neck. Again, I squeeze it as hard as I can. Its other eye pops out, and so does its tongue. Like a squeeze toy. It’s blood flows down my arm, staining my jacket sleeve. It deserves this.

“Is it dead?”

“Yeah.” I say with my eyes still on the target. I hear the door open. And she sees me in the natural state of violence. Her sister, red handed, crushing a rat.

“G-gale. I know you had to catch it but…”

“Look, I just didn’t know my own strength. I didn’t want it to be like this. I just couldn’t hold back.”

“I’m just gonna sit in my room, and when I come back, I just want it gone along with the blood.” She shuts the door. Clean up. Throw the rat in a plastic bag, wash my hands, put a bandaid on my hand, wipe down the floor. It was surprisingly easy. Back to my program. Now me and her are all alone, I’m prettier now, i’m attractive. It’s the best time to seduce and grab what’s mine. You see me too, and you know it too that I’m a real catch to anyone on the sidewalk. I walk back into her room. She doesn’t turn to look at me, she just stares in her vanity. Wait. I’m not sure what to do.

“You did a good job on the makeup.”

“Why’d you have to kill it like that. Why couldn’t you just catch it.”

“Well, I did catch it.”

“How could you even let yourself crush it like that?”

“It’ll come back, I promise.”

“What?”

“Y’know the one roach so a thousand kinda thing.”

She turns around to look at me.”No, I don’t get it.”

I shrug and go sit on her bed. “Why did you bring me here?”

“This is embarrassing, but... “ She slumps back to her vanity. “I’ve always wanted a sister I guess.”

“Well, i can’t be your sister obviously but.   I could be your boyfriend.”

“Haha, really?”

“Yes really. Why would I bring it up if I didn’t mean it?”

“I’m not sure, it just seems out of place i guess. Haha. Like, out of place for you.”

“Well when you get me alone, i just reveal myself i guess.”

“Ok. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend now!”

She stand up and walks toward the bed where I’m sitting. She gives me a hug and then a kiss on my forehead with her hair in my eyes. It sweeps across me my face, brushing off any doubt i may have had. I lied. Oh god what am I doing? She right. This is out of my nature. But, I’ve never been held like this. She was just supposed to be my way to extend my branch, a job any woman is capable at. But her? She excels. My hand twitches. And burns. I lay my hand on her hip to ease my instinct but my hand only tenses more. I grab, fingers deeply may their way in her flesh.

“What’re you- ow please stop- you’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry, my hand just, did that.”

Getting my hand off of her waist is like moving a tightened vise grip. When I get it off i clench into my own palm and dig into it. My hand cannibalizes itself. The arm, bursting with veins, the veins are bursting and i see the blood pool beneath my skin. This is what I get for f*****g with rat, outside if his terms. What were the even. My punishment worsens. It spreads to my torso. Every single muscle flexing as hard as possible and a little more.I can feel some ropes of muscles snap in half. My whole body playing tug of war with itself. Meanwhile Joy is screaming the whole time. She tried to touch me but scared by how hard my body has become. My heart it like a vacuum pumping and pushing a dense gravy of heavy blood. The antares on my neck swell, I’m confident the right will pop and push past skin. Which it does, but doesn’t spray blood, just leaking a thick serum. I can feel my brain pushing against my skull, my eyes being pushed expanded blood. Again, the right one pops. And I. My whole body, just pops. Joy is covered in me. I’m nothing but a very big mess in this very pretty room. With one eye, I see the bloody rat enter the room, nip Joy’s ankle, and nip at my blown out heart. Maybe this was hell.

I hope to god there is a next life.

-------------------------------------------------- Dream I --------------------------------------------------------------

Sick Sick Sick. I am Thomas. My accuracy is unparalleled, my speed in unmatched, and my conviction is unfelt. At least in the tri-county area.

The range is where I should live. I live, breathe, eat, and f**k bullets, sulfur, powder, and pistol grips. But where I belong has to be the field. Not on a field backing an army but instead by myself, taking on the world. I am an impatient man though. I can’t wait. I need to shoot something more than a deer. I’ve talked to an acquaintance I know about this. We’re on the same page mostly, just written a little differently/ Nevertheless, our subjects are the same, death. Our reasons are different; birthright, and revenge.

In a few days, I’ll be a achieving my destiny. The other guy, I’ll just call him Shooter 2, will be getting his desire. I

I’m excited but am also worried for I know these next few nights will be sleepless. The building anticipation that cannot be shaken until the act is done. I am certain there is no substitute, I’m not sure if I would do this if there was. I hope my lack of sleep doesn’t interfere with my ability that day.

As to not betray the beloved AR-15 I’ve put so much time and money into, I’ve switched to upper and barrel from .223 to 300 BLK as I find that round more appropriate for my role. I’ll be in a building parallel to our college classroom. The building i’ll be hiding in has yet to be rented so it really is a great spot more me. I’ll be using a suppressor, magnifying optic, and whisper 300 when I’m shooting students but once I’m spotted I’ll have mags of supersonic rounds to switch to. Shooter 2 will be running a Saiga 12 gauge and Mac 10 we got that was pre ban so we were easily able to convert it to full auto. We went with a Saiga because we thought that in his situation, a semi auto mag fed with faster reloads would be ideal. The reason we went the mac 10 is because it was pretty cheap but that doesn’t really matter because sidearms are rarely used in combat.  His role will be to breach into classroom and start shooting indiscriminately. No one is to escape except out the emergency exit which I have a clear view of. I can both take out runners and people trapped inside. Ideally, or at least the way I have it in my head is that while he can only focus on so many people so I focus on the section he’s not getting and any potential ‘heroes’. Not that we’re afraid of dying, but afraid of dying prematurely. It’s time to stop replaying the same scenario in my head. I should get some sleep.

The next day Shooter 2 and I attend the class that will be riddled with wounds the very next day.  While the professor talks about the Greeks and their homosexuality, I realize something. I turn over to Shooter 2 and say in a quiet nonchalant whisper, “What if everyone dies? Do we wait for the police or move on to a different classroom. We could get a higher body count since they can’t fire back. What do you think?”

In the same whisper he replies, “Well don’t you think it’d split us if I went to a different class? What if the cops come while I’m working the second class room, now I just have two targets I have to watch out for and my back will always be turned to one of them.”

“Yeah you’re right, two classes seems like much. It was just a thought. Here’s hoping tomorrow goes alright.”

“Yeah me too.”

My eyes go back to the professor but my attention remains on tomorrow, which reminds me of some things I need to do tonight.

At home, I load just short of a dozen magazines with ammo, divided into subsonic and supersonic. I always thought I’d be using .223 but I guess you never can tell. When I’m done with that I load some magazines for my p92. Just a few so they can all fit in my cargo pocket. The AR mags will go in duffel bag. I wonder how shooter 2’s magazine management is going. I also have to say goodbye to people. I go on my computer and send out 7 individual personalized emails to my favorite people. I’ll never be hearing from them again. I’m not sure what to do now. I hold my rifle, I contemplate bypassing the sleepless night and shooting myself right now. Strangely, deep inside I know I really don’t want to. I place it by my bed. I hope Shooter 2 doesn’t have the same thought and actually do it. It would be lonely getting stood up tomorrow.

I lay awake half of the night, except for about 4 hours before I should get up I had a half awake dream. Completely aware of what’s going on but still out of control and spiraling into god knows what. I remember people trying to make me cry and I wasn’t me normally. All my friends were gone and only enemies remained. By the end, I think I exploded. My alarm rings and it’s time to show the world what I have to offer. I don’t bother showering today but I do look in the mirror contemplating if I should. What do I see? Not much, just a man with a grown out buzz cut. A man who knew he was born to pull the trigger the first time he saw a gun. A man who grew impatient, selfish, and tired. But now this is my time. Dressed in a cargo pants, boots, and a parka over plate carrier vest holding armor rated up to 7.62 NATO, I’m feeling confident. I contemplated wearing a balaclava but that just kinda seemed like overkill. I throw my duffel bag of a mags in the trunk of car along with the rifle case. My pistol stays in my shoulder holster. On my way to the location, my head races with the sequence of events. Meeting Shooter 2 for the first time, getting to know each other’s intentions. Probably glad we found each other before one of us went solo and killed the other, ignorant of the teamwork that could have been had. He probably left a manifesto or journal of something. Personally I decided against it, I honestly just didn’t know what to write. I can’t believe that months of prep and years of fantasies has come to this. I drive up toward the building and park in the alley. I set up the duffel bag and rifle on a bipod on the west side. I can’t stop thinking about how convenient this building is. There’s no road between me and the target, just empty space. There are no occupants in the building, not even squatters, and I have have an extra story to work with if I need to. A week ago I sighted in the rifle for the distance of my position to the college classroom, just to make it easier on myself. Conveniently it came out to about 100 yards so nothing I didn’t know.

10 minutes pass which is when Shooter 2 should be arriving. I wonder if he’s feelings nervous. I wonder if he took a valium like i told him to if he is feeling nervous. I’m on it. Just to stop occasional shake on my rifle. I’m aimed at the East side of room which has 3 gigantic windows, almost making up the whole wall.  I focus in on the door, waiting for it to be splintered. I do a figure behind the little glass window. I think it’s Shooter 2, he must be composing himself. And then, the door is slowly pushed open. Shooter 2 has entered the room. Oh god I told him not to wear that trench coat, we’ll just be called Columbine kids now. Well I guess that was the only practical way to hide his guns. Anyway, few people glance at his presence but now for long. From the south side of the building where the entrance is, shooter 2 takes out his saiga and a mag from his duffel bag. He fires north, wounding many but probably killing none. He aims east, my direction, still hitting targets somewhat but most fire concentrated on the windows, taking care of that for me. As the windows go down and so do a few people, I start shooting. Pulling the trigger felt so right. Yeah, I was meant for this. After getting about 3 hits, unknown if any were kills, they all start getting under their desk. Shooter 2 and I notice this and stop firing. I have to because I can’t see them anymore. I think Shooter 2 knows this because I see him shout something then use his Mac 10 to spray down on desks, and also hopefully hitting students. His tactic works and most of them stand up and start running toward the emergency exit which is on the north east corner, I have a very clear view and can shoot anyone coming out straight on, which I do. What’s funny is even after 5 people had been shot by me while they come of the exit, they keep trying. 5 more for me. Finally people start wising up but they still stand by the window. I wish we had walkie talkies so I could claim targets. He’s already shot about 4 of my potential kills. There are only about 40 people in my class. I think we got them all. Well, I do see Shooter 2 executing wounded students on the ground. So we did get most, minus us and whoever was lucky enough to not show up that day.

An entire 10 more minutes until the cops arrive, and even when they do, they just stand by and point their guns at the destroyed classroom. As if they even have a shot. They have a few guys positioned by the emergency exit. I don’t think they know about me yet. Nice. When Shooter and the cops start exchanging fire, that’s when I start firing. From what I’ve talked to him before, it seems he’s not very interested in the cops, I bet he were alone, he’d kill himself right now. I think this all for me now. How sweet of him. I see cops armed with ar’s and shotguns enter the campus. I send Shooter 2 a text: !. The message doesn’t matter, but the vibration means that they’re coming for him. He pushes two desks against the main door, locks it, and just for good measure puts his belts around the door closer. Then he starts shooting blindly at the police outside. Finally they take shots at him. I put in my rounds too. I start off with cops in his line of sight more or less and try to shoot only when he does. The cops break the door but still can’t open it. For some reason they thought that the best course of action was to have one of their guys crawl through the hole they’ve made. While blowing my cover isn’t my top priority, I still should keep Shooter 2 alive for a little longer. I shoot the cop crawling through the door. Shooter 2’s back was turned to them so I’m sure they must’ve have picked up on a second shooter by now. While some cops looks around not knowing what they’re looking for, I become a little more loose with my targets. Killing anyone near my sights at this point. Still clueless as to where these shots are coming from, which good for them because I’ve run out of subsonic ammo. I packed more supersonic because I really thought I would have only used 4 mags of the subsonic max. As soon as I start using the louder ammunition, they have an easier time triangulating my position. Also, there isnt anymore exchange between them and the classroom . Shooter 2 must’ve died during my last mag change. I shoot at more cops as they start running toward my direction. Bullets hit the wall behind me and one even breaks the glass. This sight is useless now. I ditch it and attach a regular red dot. Took me a little longer than usual but under these stressful conditions what can you do.

Again the cops stand by, not entering, but only loitering outside. At least they’re shooting now. I give some returning fire and more as I run up the stairs. I just had a feeling the building would be breached soon. On the second floor I exchange fire with the police again. Harder now that they’re actually firing back. How long is this going to last. I’m not even sure if I’ve hit anyone as I’m trying to dodge all these bullets. Meanwhile downstairs I hear some cops break down that door and then quickly make their way to the stairwell. I finish off the rest of the bullets I have in this magazine and then pull out my sidearm. I hold it toward the door backing away. As soon as I see that door move an inch I start firing. I meet the wall and climb onto windowsill. The cops are inside long guns nearly at full draw. I exit out the building through the broken window, backwards.

As I fall, I feel content knowing I killed, what was it, 30? 35? Maybe even, 40. I guess they’ll find out in the news. I feel content knowing my destiny has been secured. I can go in peace. Now all I gotta do is lay back and let the fall kill me. Y’know, as my neck snaps, and my skull breaks like an egg, I realize I never even got to use all of my  ammo. Shame. Who knows how many more I could’ve gotten.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weird Dreams.

I wake up in my room with my sheets on top of my body that already bears boots, bottoms, and a very winter heavy jacket. I take off the jacket and let the sweat drip out. I had a lot of fun with Joy last night. I ended up staying longer than I wanted to but that’s ok. I actually had fun for once. I almost kissed her but I looked in the mirror and saw our faces close together. I forgot I looked like her. I really really do pass for her sister. Kissing her didn’t seem like a good idea after that. It probably would have just weirded her out instead of progressing a relationship.

I’m still deciding with how to handle the situation. My panicked decision to make Joy have my kids now seems very misguided to me. It doesn’t seem that the rat can’t kill me. Nor can I kill it. I have a feeling that my family tree won’t end with me now. No need to rush things anymore. But Joy still is a very nice girl with good features and such. She wouldn’t be the worst candidate and she does seem to like me. I may be able to pull all of this off without the stress of a time limit. I guess I just needed that push at the start.

I walk outside to let the winter cool down my head. The porch is very cold as a sit down on it, yet it is comforting. The shock that is. Oh, the sun is rising. I’m glad to see it but it’s presence is dreadful to me. Two more hours until I have to be at school and see her. Of course I need to be around her to fulfill my goal but it just seems too see her. Why do I feel so nervous. I look at the bite mark on my hand. This must be altering me. I go back inside, pour peroxide on it and watch the bubbles quickly manifest and pop. It’s probably much too late for this but what else can I do? I take a shower and wash the bite as best I can, small blood clumps start to fall out of it. Then I eat good food, just incase it could keep me thriving despite what that rat could have poisoned me with.

2

With each step my head pulses and with each pulse my body trembles. Is this the rat’s great plan? To subdue me so I’m an easier target? How weak. Pathetic. Even though this is a pain, it’s just not good enough. I continue walking to school. Even though it is a pain.

Pushing through the pain, I get to school. It’s still not fun. But I don’t see Joy anywhere.

I cut school, no reason to bother if she’s not there. I walk around aimlessly more focused on the the pulsing of my head. It’s a weird dilemma. Not bad enough to warrant a hospital visit but bad enough to where it’s difficult to function. Maybe, maybe if I. It’s not like I like her or anything, I just want to know how she feels about me. I sit down on the edge of the sidewalk to let it subside. Again it’s not the worst thing in the world but it’s definitely bad. The headache slowly comes down. Each pulse more tolerable than the last until finally it feels like a normal pulse of the blood doing its job. I open my eyes and catch a neon OPEN in front of me. A fortune teller is open. I need to know. I open the door to find a small wooden staircase leading to a half underground kind of room. Each step of wood squeaked.  The psychic called out “who’s there?”

I get to the bottom and peek around the corner, “I’m just wondering about my future.”

“Oh ok, then come sit down.”

This fortune teller doesn’t come off as very wise. She can’t be older than 40. As I walk to the seat across from her, she gets up to get a crystal ball from a tall shelf. She comes back, puts it back and puts it in the center of the table. The ball itself is very cloudy but its stand seems to very ornate. She then sets a bag filled with brown powder next to the ball. She’s dressed in a long blue modest dress with similar ornate patterns and where’s a sheer fabric over her head.

“So what do you want to know?”

“Well, I want to know about my death.”

“Ok, so, Like. How? When, Where? That kind of stuff?”

“Yeah, if you could kind of see into what’s going on.”

“Ok, but it’s gonna take a lot.” She takes powder out of the bag and rubs it into her gums. She then takes both of her hands and firmly grasps the ball, staring directly into the center of it.

I’m curious about this stuff now. “Hey do you mind if I try some of this?” No response. I take a small amount and rub it into my gums. After a moment, i start to feel it kick in. I’m having very faded visions, like me looking at the ball and me leaving the room and breaking one of the steps on the stairs.  My eyes are drawn to the ball now. It’s grim misty aura. I put my fingers in between hers and stare into it just like she does. I see a hole the size of a dime through the fog trapped inside. From what I can see, it’s an eye with the same color as mine, blue. When it blinks, it shows blue eye shadow. The psychic removes her hands from the ball but I can’t let go. I just see the eye blinking a lot but I need to know  if I can find out more. I reach for more of the powder but i am slapped away. I catch in the ball that the eye had been covered up with what seemed to be some kind of black cloth. The vision ends and I stop feeling connected to everything.

“What is that stuff?”

“It helps you see into the future.”

“Is there anyway I can get some?”

“No, it used to be organic, made from some rare plant that grows in this region but it’s so rare that the one last found had already been stepped on for like a while. I have to get this synthetic stuff now.”

“So what’d you see in my death?”

“Do you want some euphemisms and more implying than truth or are you ok with taking it all?”

“Just tell me everything.”

    “Well first, you’re dying on what seemed to be a mountain of trash. You were at a weak point in your life and you were shot in the head by something not human. I’m sorry about your fate. Oh also I couldn’t sense how far into the future it was but you seemed to be more or less the same as you are now, maybe more disheveled but nothing else much.”

She stares at me, looking like I might ask something

“Did you see anything about an eye with makeup on it?”

“No I didn’t” She closes the bag of powder “with the amount you took you probably only had enough to see 1 or 2 months into the future. At least with the crystal ball. Also, I’m really sorry about your fate. You don’t have to pay today if you don’t want. Just be sure to come in later. I’d love to see into your future again.”

“Is there anyway I can change y fate?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t try to alter time.”

I nod and get up, “I’ll be back later.” I walk out the room and back up the stairs. I avoid the third step, the one that broke in the vision. As I step over it it breaks anyway. The other ones squeak normally. The door creaks this time. Time.

At home. I’m wondering as what to do. My uncle walks in and stands by the doorway.

“Someone told me he saw you with makeup the other night. What’s up with that?”

“Oh, my friend and I were just messing around.”

“You a f****t?”

“No, my friend’s a girl.”

“Oh ok good. So. Why’d you try it with her but not me? It’s in our family boy.”

“I’m not sure why I let her. She said we kinda looked similar, so I let her put makeup on me to see if I could pass as her sister.”

“And did you?”

“Yeah, really well.”

“You’re dad would be happy. He was worried about you not siblings and not experiencing what we experienced. I’m glad you have a sister in your life Gale.”

“Thanks.”

“Well that’s all I wanted to ask, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

My headache comes back. I lay down and try to sleep again. I end up lying awake for a few hours. I get up to go outside but as soon as I’m upright I feel dizzy and as if something is coming out of my throat. I need to go outside, it feels like my head is full of water and I’m drowning in it. Each step down the stairs brings on more pulsing and puts me deeper in the water. Now I get to know what the pressure is like in the bottom of the ocean. I manage to the bottom and go out the back door. The cold crisp breeze hits me and I vomit. Reduced to my hands and knees, going from mostly spit and some bile to chunks of, something. One of the chunks starts to move side to side. Oh god no it’s the rat. I’m too weak to deal with him, no no no no.

“So you want to feel better.” It squeaks.

“Of course I do.” I cough through the bile in my mouth.

It scurries under the back porch and drags out my knife, laying it beside my hand, “Then why don’t you just cut yourself?” It snickers. “It will relieve the pressure. I promise.”

“Liar.”

“No, no, no, I promise. Just try a little bit across your stomach.”

Still skeptical but a tiny cut can’t do much. And I’m desperate for anything right now. I pick up the knife, albeit not firmly but enough to put a small cut across my stomach. Let me tell you. It was great. It was like so much pressure had been released. Still, my condition was barely tolerable. I cut more, twice, harder and deeper. I feel so much better. Even better than I felt before.

“See Gale, it’s all better right?”

“Yeah, I feel great now. I only feel the pain of the cuts. But other than that it’s a million.”

“Gale, I’d like to grant you the power to overcome all obstacles just but punishing yourself. I put you through a lot of pain, but with that knife it was all relieved right?”

“Yes.”

“So you could even overcome loneliness, weakness, or other faults you’ve had like sitting on your a*s your whole life just by inflicting pain on yourself.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re an abonishment Gale. I hate you. And I hate that. I’m trying to fix you.”

“Ok, I think I understand know.”

“That’s great. I have to go now. I hope the next I see you, you’ll be a lot better.”

I wonder if this new method can make me more like a man.

I go upstairs and back to bed into a dreamless sleep. My hand still clutching the knife.

A new model.

At school today, things seemed better. After about a month of self punishment, I found Joy wanting to be around me a lot more, I’ve gotten stronger, haven’t gotten sick at all, been more energetic, more confidence, less paranoia, and I haven’t seen the rat either. So it’s going well. My birthday is in a few weeks so I’m really glad I was given this method just in time for my passing into manhood. I am still afraid of the rat, especially after seeing how much control he can have over me. My stomach and thighs hurt. Another thing I’ve noticed is that the rat bite hasn’t healed. Sometimes I wonder what suicide will grant me. Don’t worry I’m not gonna do it anytime soon. I still have some things to do.

After school, I see Joy again and we put makeup on each other. We kiss this time. Finally, I just need to make sure she keeps liking me. One more step to being a man. After that I go to see the fortune teller again. Something must have changed now that this I’m punishing myself. The walk there is nice with very crisp cool weather. A little warmer than what you’d expect for February. I enter the door and walk down the stairs, the third step has been replaced. She seems pleased to see me.

“Hi, Gale.”

“Hi.”

“My name is Monique by the way.”

“Oh ok thanks.”

“Please sit down. Would you mind if I had a pricked you with this needle. I just need a little more blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I can’t take the pain haha.”

“Ok thanks.”

First she takes down the crystal ball, sets it on the table, undoes a latch on the side, pricks me then puts the needle with a drop of my blood on it and puts it in the side.

“I’ve been preparing for this.” She says slyly. She pulls out a syringe with a brown liquid in out of a drawer. She ties her bicep with a rubber hose and injects herself with it. Then just like last time, her hands are firmly grasped onto the sides of crystal ball. There isn’t any powder for me to take this time. She’s so lost in the ball she starts to drool. I look around her office until she finished. It’s very cluttered with lots of colors scattered. I don’t know what else to kill the time. Sometimes I wonder where I’m going with this. Will this all end well for me. What am I trying to do? I’m not entirely sure what I want. I just know some things I should do but even then I don’t know if they’re things that I do want. Her hands fall off the ball. “I saw everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Everything about your future. From an hour from now to your death. I saw everything.”

“And?”

“I’m really sorry about everything that’s happening to you. Also, are you currently cutting yourself?”

“Yeah but it gives me power in return for the pain I give myself. So it’s ok.”

“You might want to stop. Or maybe don’t. I don’t know. Just kill time until the 13th or something.”

“Why? Is that when I die?”

“No, but something happens. I actually saw a split happen. The rat might control the outcome though. I’m not entirely sure. It seemed very likely that your actions dictated what happened”

“So what should I do?”

“Kill time. You should leave now. I can’t help you with anything. Just leave.” Her body is slouched on the table, she stares at nothing. I leave. What can I do? I go back to my house. My mom says hi to me and so does my uncle. Sometimes I wonder if they’re having an affair. I go up to room and cut myself the deepest I have yet. I need to fix this. Bad things shouldn’t happen. My blood covers my stomach and stains my shirt and jeans. It goes down all the way to my knees. Why can’t I still figure out what to do? My head panicked and crisscrossing it really really hurts I just want to cry and lash out at everything. There’s nothing I can do there’s nothing i can do nothing nothing nothing nothing! My head and body give out, I collapse on the bed. Let worry and panic inseminate my thoughts and emotions. Then I was saved by a very airy feeling. One that made me feel as light as a feather being carried in the cold February wind. A feather carried into sleep.

---------------------------------------------- Dream II ------------------------------------------------------

I woke up two hours ago. I went out for brunch by myself. It was a small cafe and I had a ham sandwich with some cheese and leafy greens. Instead of coffee like usual, I thought I’d try jasmine tea this time. I guess I’m dressed as plain as this cafe. Off white with dark grey, The colors are very muted on both of us. The lines is here are very straight, just like my bob hairdo. I finish my sandwich and tea, which wasn’t really a great pairing, and then I throw away my trash as I walk out the cafe. I go inside my purse to check what time it is. 10:30 AM, something feels off. My purse feels a little empty. My wallet isn’t in there. I walk back into the cafe. There’s a barista standing by the table I was sitting at. He’s holding my wallet looking for the person on the driver’s license. He analyzes everyone in the room, he scans over me but doesn’t acknowledge me. I give him another moment to figure it out himself but unfortunately that doesn’t work. I walk right up to him and tell him that’s my wallet. “Oh!” He looks at the driver’s license then at me. “Oh here you go.” I thank him and leave.

I walk to my apartment. I turned 27 not too long ago, but i’m still not sure where I’m going. I’ll be 30 in 3 years, which isn’t that far if you think about it. I was thinking about getting a cat but I’m not sure if that’s great for me, someone who lives on the third floor. I just don’t think I’m motivated to get a cat either. I should start getting ready for a date tonight. I met him online, I’m not too sure if I would have gotten this far if we met in real life. I think the bio section of my profile saved me. He seems like a nice guy who might actually want to connect with me. I wonder what part of my bio interested him? How lonely I was? How desperate I came off? Or maybe my hobby in sewing. I wonder if my profile saying I’m 25 enticed him at all. Who am i kidding, it didn’t have an effect. No one’s ever really approached me, and no one’s ever stuck around. I apply my make up very carefully and deliberately. I try to bring out my eyes as much as I can, along with me lips and cheekbones. No matter how much I try, i still look so ordinary. Just so unbelievably ordinary.

I sit in front of my mirror for a while, wondering how to fix this. But there isn’t a fix this. I see absolutely nothing wrong with my face. I still have 3 hours before this date, It’s 3 now. I wash off the makeup and replace it with a more simple eyeliner and mascara. I’m back to where I started. I bet if you took a measuring tape to my face you’d find nothing off at all. I think that’s the problem though. When I look in the mirror, I seem so manufactured, somehow faceless as if I were a mannequin. I think for my whole life, this is what others have seen. Wholefully unaware of the me underneath this sculpted face. I’ve considered plastic surgery but I’m afraid if any changes were made then I’d be ugly which i still haven’t decided if that’s better or worse. The cost too, I just couldn’t afford. That leaves me with another option. Razor blades don’t cost more than a dollar. I don’t think I’d be doing that anytime soon though.

This guy I’m about to go out with doesn’t look that bad y’know. He’s got black hair, blue eyes, and he seems to take care of himself too. Clean shaven and all that other stuff. He seems just like any other person who’d ignore me. So why me? Why am I so special to him? Am I extra-ordinary? Haha. No one else ever seemed to care, from grade school to college I always slipped by people’s attention. I was always nice, caring, some other stuff that should’ve made me liked, but no, I was always ignored.

I can’t find it, where is it, why will it not- god d****t. I need to cancel my date, i need to find my phone. I’m worthless and this guy knows it. He’s just gonna take advantage of me, I know it. He knows I’m nothing, but I am not stupid, my head is not how I look. I’m not dull, my head’s not dull, nothing about me is dull why can’t this guy see that. Maybe I should go and prove him wrong. No, I can’t, but, I want to talk to someone. No, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ve found my phone. Jesus, I feel so tired now. I lay down on my couch and call him. He doesn’t pick up so I text him I’m not coming. I don’t really have any plans now so I stare at the ceiling. There’s not much to it, it’s a nude color. It’s got all the little bumps and stuff on it. I can’t sleep. I take some opiates and go to bed. I don’t really think I fall asleep actually. I remember wavy things, and it was very dark. The night seemed to wash over me and I woke up in the ocean. Everything’s fuzzy and its really really dark. The street light outside goes through my blinds and highlights my bathroom door. I stumble through it trying to figure why i went in. I don’t need to use it, I don’t need to vomit, and it’s too early to shower. Oh wait, the mirror. That’s why. The mirror. I need to look at myself. I turn on the light, letting myself be temporarily blinded. Once my eyes adjust, I look at myself. Would you look at that. True neutral. As I’ve said before, Extraordinary. I mess with my face for a bit, squashing and stretching. Trying to make it look interesting. After messing with my eyes a lot, i get tired again. At least my eyes are red and that’s something a little noteworthy. Probably. I go back to bed hoping i wake up normally.

It’s the afternoon. I don’t get out of bed. I’m not sure what to do.

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The 3rd.

I sit on my bed. In this room. Is this where I’ll die? But why do I care? It’s not like I can prevent it. I’m just sitting here. Killing time. I should really change out these clothes before my mom sees me. I usually didn’t have to worry about this but she’s been staying over more often since I started cutting. Maybe I should cut now. No I’ll do it tonight, not enough time this morning. Spent it all sitting, waiting for the 13th. I still don’t know what to do.

I bet, I bet this is going to make me go crazy.

At school Joy’s presence was surreal to me. She had been all over me ever since I started cutting. She hasn’t noticed any of them though. She keeps wanting to talk to me. It is annoying. I guess I’ll just have to tolerate it. I don’t have to tolerate it for years now. Just 10 days. What a horrible thing. Being deprived of being a man, not even 18 yet. A waste. I pick at my nails for most of the school day. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going crazy.

Going crazy, maybe that’s the rat’s plan. So I become weaker. So he can strike. I’ve already given into him once. He must think I’ll give into him again. Why can’t I do anything?

4th

I lay in bed, wait for it to happen. Cut a little too

5th

I go outside today, but not to school. I just wanna look busy. Cut a little in the alley.

6th

Do you think that his magic can work against him? I guess I’ll just have to try even harder.

7th

Man I really feel like I’m killin it today. I bet I could take on the rat with my bare hands? Hey where’s Joy at I haven’t seen her in awhile.

9th

Do you think Joy is just a trap set up by the rat? If he can give me this power who knows what else he can do. I need more power. I don’t know what else I can do. It’s not like I can just summon him. It’s not like a can do anything. I’m running out of places to cut myself. I guess I’ll just have to go onto my arms. It’s not like it’ll matter in 4 days. My heart doesn’t feel good after saying that. God. 4 days.l

10th

Three days

11th

T-two days. The cutting isn’t getting me anywhere. I stop

12th

I’m so tired of this. Days filled with screaming into myself. Hitting my head on anything I can find. Tearing myself up with a knife. My headache has come back too. It’s not like it’ll matter in- I’m not gonna finish that sentence. My head feels like it’s gonna explode. I’m so close to putting the knife through my head just to relieve some stress, something, some illness, some worry. My mom didn’t come home last night. The phone was ringing and it was just my uncle drunk telling me about how he’s gonna come by tonight. He something fun prepared. I don’t want to guess because I know. I don’t need f*****g anybody, I should just leave this place but if I do that then he’ll just come and get me. He’s not a rat. He’s just evil. Horrible horrible evil just set to hurt me. Me. Why does he want to hurt me? I haven’t done a person. I’m human. I’m a person. I’m not an abomination. I haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t hurt anyone. I let myself fall down on the floor. I ache in worry. The thoughts in my head play over and over about how I will die. How would it be do you think? Maybe he’ll eat me. But, will he? He could eat me. Oh god, I really have come to my end. I’ve admitted defeat. I guess I should just also admit that he is the apex while I’m at it.  My headache is mostly gone but that feeling of nausea is coming. I should just stay still as not to upset it. Maybe I should accept my uncle with open arms. He does only want to love me. I continue to lie here swallowing excess spit.

I’m getting really worried about him coming here now. Like I know all he’s gonna do is put makeup on me and make me dress up. What I’m worries about is that is he going to dress me up himself? He’s gonna see my cuts! No, that’d look so weak to him and I’m sure he couldn’t believe my reason why? What if he doesn’t like the way I look? O-or something else? Something else is nagging at my head and I have no idea! I don’t- I. I forgot what I was talking about. I try to calm myself by rubbing at my forearms but it just makes me more agitated. I rub my hands, the rat bite has never healed. In fact, it’s still red. I stop everything just to look at it. Again. I am powerless to that rat. I rock back and forth violently, my legs can’t keep still. I might just die doing this.

My uncle arrives at 10pm. My mom isn’t here. He brings in a make up kit and a dress.

“I didn’t know your measurements so I just got something simple in large. Is that ok?”

“Y-yeah I guess.”

“You don’t look too good. You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Ok, let’s go into your mom’s room. You sit in front of the vanity. I’ll do your makeup first.”

“Thanks.”

I look at myself in front of the vanity. Disheveled. Wait, what if my uncle shoots me in this chair out like guilt or jealousy or something? No. I’m going crazy. It’s not the 13th yet. But it will be in two hours. How long does it take to do makeup?

“Ok, let’s make your father proud.”

He goes for the foundation first. He applies evenly without fault, my face is covered in a surprisingly fitting tone.

“You know you’re burning up right?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you want to stop? I can wipe your face and get the foundation off.”

“No it’s fine. Your hands are cold, it feels fine.”

“Ok, next we’ll do the concealer.”

He applies the concealer extremely thoughtfully, as if I were his own son. The areas are covered with precision. Next he curls my lashes. Carefully of course. He says he want it to be just right. Not too much but not too little. Just right. After that he blends in a maroon or magenta kind of eyeshadow. He makes a nearly perfect gradient. I’m really impressed. Then he fills my eyebrows. I think it’s kind of stupid but he insists. I do see a lot of girls at school doing it. He pinches my cheeks because blush is for w****s and I’m not a w***e. He did give me a nude color for my lipstick. It’s supposed to draw more attention to my eyes I guess. Speaking of, he goes back to my eyes to do my eyeliner. Very symmetrical and not too much. He’s done now. He gives me a few minutes to look in the mirror. It’s weird. I look like Joy’s sister again, but prettier. A lot prettier.

“If you like that then you’re gonna love this. He goes back into his bag and comes out with a wig and hairnet. It’s blonde. It doesn’t look cheap either. My uncle puts it on for me. It looks really really good. I- I can’t believe it. I love it. I’m someone else. I’m just like all those other girls. I’m someone else. I’m not Gale. I don’t know what I am anymore. Maybe? Maybe I won’t die now?

13th

The clock struck 12. I should become a man today. But I’m here now a girl. I’m 18. At least I don’t look bad. I go back to my mom’s room where my uncle is doing his makeup.

I idle by the doorway. “Thanks for doing this.

“No problem Gale. I knew you’d like it.”

Gale. I become aware of my headache, fever, and nausea again. I’m still Gale. The phone rings. I walk downstairs and pick it up.

“Gale?” She whimpers.

“Joy?”

“Gale! There’s a gigantic rat in my house and he has me trapped in the bathroom!”

“I’ll be there soon Joy! Just don’t let him touch you!”

I can’t believe he’s doing this. How’d she get my number? Whatever, i have to go save my ace in the hole. In this adrenaline, the illnesses are ignored as a run to my room to retrieve the gun my father gave me. After that I load the ammo I hid into the magazine. I have 13 shots. I run back downstairs and out the front door. I can faintly hear my uncle yelling my name.

I run, but very lightly. My muscles seem to tire out a little too easily. I’m slowing down. I’m so close to the school though. Just a block past that and I’m Joy’s house. This guns feels like it weighs so much. I feel as light as a feather but just as strong as one too. It’s barely considered jogging by the time I get to the school. I just have to get past it. A van drives by. God I wish I were as fast as it. I have to stop now. On my hands and knees I throw up. The cold breeze all too familiar. No rat this time. The van brakes and turns around. I get up to my knees and wave to it. I hope the can see me waving. The darkness kind of obscures me. Wait they would’ve had to have seen me if he turned around. I should try to get a ride to Joy’s house. Slowly but surely I get to my feet. By the time I get to the side of the street the van pulls up just behind me. I go to walk to the passenger door but before I can two men quickly come out of the back doors. Without thought I draw my gun. I was not quickly enough though. The first man yanked it out of my hands before I could aim it at him. The second man grabs me, holding my arms down. I can barely struggle anyway. Man one throws my gun into the van then assists man two with putting me in the back of the van. The van starts moving before man one can even close the doors. The whole ordeal couldn’t have lasted for more that 10 seconds. I’m stuck on the floor, next to woman. I touch her but she doesn’t respond. She’s wrapped up in straps. Man two pulls out more straps as man one puts me in a choke hold from behind.

Man two  “She’s not struggling?”

The edges of my vision blur.

           Man one “I don’t think it’s a she.”

    The edges close in fast.

Driver “ sounds like a niche.”

I pass out.

I had a dream that I was on all fours gnawing at a door. I’m desperately trying to get in even if that means destroying all my teeth. The screams on the other side only drive me harder. Finally. I can peak in through a hole I’ve bitten off. I can see the girl  in the bathtub staring back at me. Her face is beyond terrified. Beyond even what she thought her face could do. I eat at the door even more. Creating a bigger hole and more wailing screams. I scurry over to the tub and hop right in. I nibble at her feet. Then at her legs. She kicks me but my lust is more powerful than whatever pathetic resistance she can put up. I tear a chunk of flesh off. She tries to get out but she trips over the tub and hits her head on the sink. There’s a lot of blood. I jump out of the tub and bite at her ribs. When I create a hole big enough, I go inside to hibernate for the winter.

Author's Note

just tell me what you think

Reviews

[Cadel]

This gets very dark, but that only makes it more powerful. Good job.