In the Arms of the Dead
Disclaimer: The only characters that are mine are Ivory and Desent…Shakespeare, Shay, Rusty, Hopscotch and Ace are all my best friends guys…the rest are Disney's.
So here I am, walking down the streets of Manhattan. I looked at the folded coffee stained in my hand;
I see him! As soon as I caught up to him I grabbed his arm and twisted it around as I pulled him into an alley. His other arm turned in attempt to hit me; I blocked it.
"Be a good boy Conlon, and I won't hurt you."
There was a muffled "No!" from under my hand in response to my request. So I twisted the arm I had until I heard a pop. Oops, ok, it's probably broken or out of place. I'll worry about it later. There was a little flinch to show the pain, but no murderous scream. That's my kind of man.
"Be a good boy?" I asked. He nodded and I released his arm and mouth. Bad Idea, he threw a punch, which I only avoided by ducking and kicking his legs out from under him. I straddled him as soon as he hit the ground.
"That wasn't 'Good boy' I said 'Good boy'. You weren't being honorable."
"What'd ya's want wid me?"
"To rob, rape and kill you. What do you think I want?"
"I don't know, you're da one dat attacked me!"
"Shh, quiet ass, you're gonna wake the bunnies."
He squinted at me, "Who are you'se?"
"My name is Ivory Tuluxey, that's all I'll tell you for now."
"Are you'se gonna get off me?"
"Umm, maybe. Say 'Please'."
"Please," he said annoyed.
Ha ha he did it. Time to have fun. I got off him. "Now sit, play dead, roll over, speak-"
"O.k. I'se got it. Stop."
Ooo demanding. He stood, dusting of his already dirty clothes with one arm. "Will you came with me, and I'll take a look at that arm." O.k fine I'm concerned, I hurt him. I wasn't supposed to, but I did. Besides, I have to keep an eye on him. and this is the only way I can think of right now.
He stopped dusting and tilted his head. Looking at me from the corner of his eye, he says "No, I'm ok. I 'Tink I'se want to stay away from you'se anyway."
Now I'm pissed. "O.k. I'll put it this way. Either you come with me or I'll break your legs so you can't walk." I come off threatening. Why do I always come off threatening?
He stared at me, obviously afraid. "I'll come wid ya." Good. I didn't mean to come off threatening. I just have that persona I guess.
So we walked up to my apartment and I opened the door. "Inside, it's cooler in there." Actually I don't know if it's cooler or not. All I know is that's it's summer, and if I were in California I would be wearing a halter top and shortie shorts. But here they have to have that pathetic rule of having to cover most of your skin cause "You're a girl". I hate it here.
I took out my 20th century first aid kit. I found Spot sitting at the kitchen table, eyeing some fake fruit. I choose to ignore this. I grabbed his arm and moved it slowly as to not to hurt it anymore than I already had. He winced as I moved it. I felt around the joint, I had popped it out. I gave him no warning as I pushed it back in. He screamed and swore at me, but I ignored him. I put my hand on the joint to heel it, but he moved it away. Fine, it'll heel the hard way. I wrapped it, and put it in a sling.
"Are you hungry?" Why'd I ask, he's a poor little boy.. actually, littler than I thought. Anyway.
"Yeah." Good, great, now I get to make stuff.
I boiled water, and put in noodles. I strained them and dumped some sauce in. This would be so much easier with a microwave. Besides all this crap food, I have to keep my modern stuff hidden. I'm so glad I live where I live.
Looking over at Spot, I dumped some sauce all over the counter and my clothes. "Shit! Mother- God!" I heard a chuckle from the table. Why does it always happen to me? Why? Uh, ok. I'll clean up later. Red. Blood. Hungry. Whoa! Ok, I'm gonna stop that. Noodles burning. Stir them.
"Here," I said picking up the noodles and placing it on the table in front of him. I went into my room and stripped off my shirt and skirt, and replaced them with a tight, belly showing spaghetti tank, and baggy jeans. Oops, I forgot where I was, oh well. Too lazy to take it off. I walked back into the kitchen. I can't believe it. He hasn't touched the food.
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