Chapter Four
A Revelation of Joy and Pain
HDM: yeah...the south park fanart is up ...it's on two scenes, the last chapter and this one. I'll have more as time goes on
I'm so confused...
I would normally be freaking out by all of this; somehow I'm not too fazed. Except for the visions and shit, I find it like a battle between anger and sadness. Do I give in to anger and violently attack all those who hate me or do I give into sadness I get rid of my life forever? There are setbacks to their 'utopia' and I'm not that stupid to oversee them. Sadness, I could end up in Hell. Anger, I could end up in jail or even the electric chair THEN Hell. I mean, they could be lying to be as well. I can't trust some floating thingy like I would trust...actually, I don't trust anyone.
All of this thinking may have knocked me out because I was awoken by the sound of a knock. I rubbed my eyes and stared at my cracked door. Kyle...I remembered that we were going to the bar to shoot pool. I opened the door and he greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey dude, you ready to go?" he asked me. I looked down at myself, old ratty hoodie and hole-ridden jeans. This is the best I've looked all week. "Yeah, let's go..." I try to quickly usher him out of my house. "Wait, shouldn't we tell your mom you're going out?" he asked me. "She's...resting..."
The bar is only five or six blocks away from my house so it wasn't far of a walk. It was cold enough that we could see our breath. It was an awkward silence between the two of us; we rarely talk as it is so it wasn't unnatural. "So..." he started, "How are things, Kenny?" Well from having yourself getting beaten and whipped and now having two things in my head, what would you think? "I'm good..." I lied. "You were skitzing out today..."he argued. I just shook my head. "I'm good...really..."
The bar wasn't crowded and neither was the pool hall. I could see Stan and Eric playing and of course Eric losing terribly. A good game for him is actually hitting in three of his balls. It looks like Wendy has joined Stan; she's watching them while drinking a Shirley Temple. "I'm going to go get a drink..." I tell Kyle. "Okay dude, hey can you go get me a Coke?" he asks while handing me five dollars. "Um, sure..." I responded. He gave me this smile, it wasn't a fake 'go away kid' smile but a genuine smile...I liked it...
Christ there are so many sluts here it's almost sickening. I mean, the shirts are so tight you can tell they're not wearing bras and the skirts can show their thongs. The fact I have been 'acquainted' with each and every one of them is even more grotesque. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do to make a buck. This girl, Tammy, comes and shows me a seat. I lay my head on the table, feeling my head getting dizzy with all of the cheap hooker perfume. I want to go and stick my head in a toilet and regurgitate all of my inners.
Suddenly my eyes caught sight of a red head I've never seen in my days of being here in this trash heap. The weirdest thing is that she's not wearing anything revealing or skanky! She wears a long sleeved shirt and a skirt way down to her ankles. She has really pretty eyes too; they're an emerald color I think. She's not one who would like to be fucked in a bathroom stall; that's for sure. She looks like one you take to a poetry reading or something more special. Suddenly, Deirdre pops in and floats at my right side. "So you're on the prowl?" she asks arrogantly. Then, Clyde appears on my other side. "I thought you are into chicks with big tits and whore-ish?" he questioned. "Get the fuck out of here..." I hissed to the two of them.
"What?" the red head replied, probably thinking I was talking to her. "Uh, no, I meant 'Hi, can I get two Cokes?' heh heh..." I caught myself badly. She cocked an eyebrow but ignored my outburst. I read her nametag; it says 'Reighlie' in blue ink. "Are you expecting a 'stall fest'?" Clyde hoarsely whispered, "Because you shouldn't project yourself into touching anyone." he added venomously. "Oh don't be so Amish!" Deirdre spat, "Might as well get the action as it flies before it's too late..." she sighed. I can feel a rush of pain going through my brain, making my vision blurry. "Um..." Reighlie stuttered, "I'll get you those drinks, Kenny..." My head shoots up. How did she know my name?
Kyle walks up to me and sits at the unoccupied seat next to me. "Kenny? Are you-" he starts to ask but I cut him off. "Kyle, just forget about it..." I snapped. He looked hurt but not blatantly womb. "Hey did you see my friend Reighlie around? She has this shift." I stared at him, I cannot even think of what this could mean. "Fr-Friend?" I stuttered. Kyle looks at me and just nods. "Yeah we met at some Jewish Youth thing. Why...are you thinking..." I know where he was going with this so I cut him off. "Never mind..."
The game of pool is one of my few gifts the son of a bitch of a deity has granted me. I learned the trade to get a few more bucks. I've never really played for fun before. Eric and I were on a team against Stan and Kyle while Wendy kept the score. They were making a couple of cracks at people but particularly me tonight. I usually go along with the jokes to get a laugh but tonight I was pretty irritable. While lining up my shot I can hear Eric mutter "Banging it like last night..." It was really retarded but it still got to me. I hit two solids in one shot giving us the lead. "That's it Kenny, the way you handle women, you just bang them..." Everyone nervously laughed. I put down my stick and looked at him coldly.
"Maybe you would be able to bang something other than your vacuum if you dropped weight." I spat. Stan almost choked on his soda and Kyle just stared. "Go screw yourself you white trash Mic." Eric replied. Hearing 'Mic' was too common but getting old. "How about you lick some balls..." I muttered low enough only he could hear. "How about you make me McCormick!" he screamed. I placed my hand firmly on my 8-ball. I pegged the ball toward his head but he dodged it a near second before it pulverized his face. The ball stuck into the wall. I breathed heavily. I can hear Clyde's words Release you veriosity and they'll treat you like God running across my brain. Eric slumped against the wall, crying like a baby. I just walked out of the place without a word.
I couldn't think or talk; I could just walk in the dead of night. I choked on invisible tears as I trudged through this white sheet of frozen rain. I can feel hail pegging against my frail body. I fumble in my pockets for a cigarette. I could find my lighter but the cigarettes may be at my house. "Need a butt?" I hear behind me. I turn to see it was the red head Reighlie from the bar. She has in her hand a plain white cigarette with a filter. I graciously accepted it while puffing away. We shared a smoking bond of talking while puffing away our problems. She's really easy going and fun to talk to about things. I have never seen a girl wear the least revealing outfit in my history of dating and fucking either...
"I've heard of your infamous ways of dating..." she says with a grin, "Stories go that you will pick a girl, give them fries, fuck them in the stall, and then leave." I look at her and smile. "That's not true at all, I give them a soda as well..." We both let out a laugh and then a sigh. It's fun to laugh when they don't mean any harm. She takes a drag and lets out a sigh. "I have to get going, I'll see you around?" she inquires. I just give her a nod. "Good-bye...Kenny..." she walks away, I can hear her boots click against the cement as she disappears into the hail and sleet. I let out a relieved sigh...I never thought not fucking someone you just met was possible.
I returned to see the upstairs completely dark. I can hear creaking noises from above. I want to throw up my soda all on the floor but it would clash with the other entire throw up stains on the carpet. I crept upstairs, trying not to be heard. I silently closed the door and lay down on my bed. The smell of this house: shit, piss, beer, and cigarettes, cloud my nose while I drift off to sleep. I don't even bother pulling the covers over. I just want to relax. I can't even feel my legs anymore it's so cold in here. I just want...sleep.
I wake up to heavy breathing in my ear. I look up to see my father standing over me with a belt in his hand. Before I could react he lashed me on my stomach. "Where's the money, boy?" he mumbled in his drunken state. I cough my lungs out from the sudden hit in my respiratory. He rips off my hoodie and shirt to make me bare. I cover myself with my arms, trying to hide my nakedness. "WHERE'S the money!" he screams. I give him Kyle's change, 2.18. "THAT'S IT!" he screams while hitting me in the back. I yelp out of pain, waiting for this to be over. He steps out of the room. oh no...
He comes in with this belt except this one has shards of broken glass on the end. It's adapted from what the Romans did to their prisoners. He ties me to my bedpost so my back faced him. I held my breath and said the only prayer I knew by heart. "If I die before I wake, pray the Lord my soul to take..." The crack of the whip hits my lower abdomen, I can hear ripping of my flesh. I scream my lungs out. I let out fists of screams and crying as the hits keep coming. One glass caught my cheek, slicing it cleanly but painfully. I limp against my bedpost, grabbing on anything for strength. He stops and drops the whip. "Bring...more money..." he slurred. He leaves me tied, blood caked, and crying myself to sleep.
End of Chapter Four
HDM: PLEASE REVIEW OR I DON'T GET TO HAVE A PET SEAL! O.O;;;