''You
are a switch blade.''
You are lying on a nightstand. it is is wooden, and worn. The room is a
small studio apartment, neat, but cluttered, and smells musky. A
scotch glass with a small remaining amount of cognac sits beside you.
There is a man reading from a cell phone on the bed next to you.
[[Reflect on whiskey glass.]]
[[Reflect on yourself.]]
[[Reflect on your relationship with the man.]]You
see him come and go, his frequency varying week to week. He has become
more frequent as of late. The man is usually drinking it when he
sharpens you, and on days when he has carried you, the glass is always
on the night stand when he puts you back.
You will most certainly see him again by the end of today.
[[Because the man is going to carry you today.->Enter Man's pocket]]You
are made of 1080 carbon steel, heat treated, made in Italy. Your blade
is sharp on one side, and on half the other side, for thrusting. You
have a spring-loaded automatic opening mechanism, operated by a button
and a safety switch on your handle. You are shiny and rust-free,
because you were blessed with a stainless steel plating. Your handle is
ebony wood. [[You are aged, but still classy as ever.->"Son, will
you PLEASE sweep up out front!?"]]
[[Classy, as well as useful.->Enter Man's pocket]]He
treats you just as a knife ought to be treated. He keeps you sharp
enough to shave and oils your hinge whenever it needs it. He picked you
up at a pawnshop years ago. Since then you and he have gone on many
adventures. He doesn't use you for common purposes. He uses you to cut
people. And boy do you love cutting people! You love to feel warm
flesh split as you slide through it. You love leaving trails of hot
blood wherever you slice. Cutting is the best feeling ever, and you've
cut many! Every time you cut someone you get immense satisfaction from
knowing that you made a difference in their life. The man uses you to
change all kinds of lives. Even end a few! You love living with him.
[[And you can't wait to see who you're going to cut today!->Enter
Man's pocket]] The
man ends his phone call and picks you up. He flicks you open, closes
you. Flicks you open, then closes you again. He puts you in his
pocket. It's good to be opened! Flicking open when you're button is
pressed is your second favorite feeling! (first being cutting people,
of course.)
The pocket is warm. Not too much lint in here. He always keeps his
pants clean. You start to jostle around as he gets up and walks out of
his apartment. You wonder where you're going. It is very exciting!
[[Wonder what it's like to be the man.]]
[[Wait for hours.]]God,
this hangover is killing you. You drank yourself into a stupor last
night. Ah hell, you're used to it. There's a lot you can't get off
your mind. You're job's been taking a toll on you. Not the bartender
job. That one's easy, if a little boring.
You're other job though. That one has put you in more shitty situations
than you'd like to count. And it get's you a lot of enemies. And a
reputation. Not to mention it ruins lives. But that has never
concerned you. You don't give a damn for the sob stories of the people
who get in your way.
You are getting a text message.
[[Check the message.]]
"Have
you heard the word around town? [[That dealer->Reflect on owner.]]
wants a piece of you. Everyone is anticipating a showdown between you
guys. I heard you're going to meet him down at the parking garage near
Station Square. There might be a crowd for it. If this is going to be a
spectacle, there's no way around it. Just don't be stupid. Play it
calm and cool. Deal with him and leave. Teach by example. Show the
crowd that you're no one to fuck with. And then go. Don't kill him.
That would make for a catastrophe. Give him a few good cuts, then be on
your way."
He talks like you don't know how to maintain a reputation. You've dealt
with guys like him before, and you're boss should know by now that you
can handle shit like this. Quick and clean. That's how you do things.
That's why there's no one better for your job.
[[Get dressed. Get what you need for the day.]]White
shirt. Black pants. Black tie. Black shoes. Sip of last night's
cognac. (Hair of the dog.) Switchblade.
[[Flick, close. Flick, close.->Enter Man's pocket]]
Damn good blade. Subtle. Quick. Deadly. [[Gone in an instant. Like
yourself. A ghost in the city.->really excited!!!]] You place it in
your pocket. You'll be needing it.
[[Head out.]]It's
just the break of day. The air is cool. You live on the outskirts of
the city. You have a long walk. You don't mind. A long walk is good
for clearing your head.
You pass under bridges, over drainage tunnels, through alleys and
abandoned industrial areas. Your legs are long and strong. Your stride
easy. You begin to see more tall buildings, more people bustling
through the streets. You are in a see of blank faces now, on a reef of
concrete and steel. clusters of buildings loom over you. Everything is
tall in this city. There is a world up there, on those roofs. A whole
other city. Empty of everything but birds.
Except... for a girl who is sitting on a ledge. That's strange.
[[You wonder what she's up to.]]
You're
boyfriend is sleeping next to you. No doubt he will sleep till noon.
You are getting entirely sick of waiting for him to be motivated to get
out of bed in the morning and do something. When you are together, he
gives you the overwhelming sense that he doesn't give a shit about you
or anything you are interested in. But you never call him out on it.
He has done to much for you and you would feel guilty about throwing his
problems in his face.
Still, he made his bed, and now he's sleeping in it (figuratively and
literally), but that's not your fault, or your burden to bear. You get
the feeling that he drags you down. The bedroom is cramped and filthy.
You want to get the hell out of bed and go outside. But first you need
a smoke.
You pick up your boyfriend's lighter and steal a cigarette from his
pack.
[[examine lighter.]]
[[Go outside]] Alright,
now that you've got some nicotine in the blood, time to get out of this
dump. You leave your lazy-as-fuck boyfriend to continue sleeping.
You're going to go explore the city.
The morning is cold, and you are barefoot. The concrete chills your
soles. You head toward downtown, where the people are, and where the
building are huge. You love exploring huge buildings.
You pass through a busy market district, and find a very tall office
building. It is at least 70 stories. You decide that this would be a
nice place to watch the city come to life. You sneak around to the
loading dock in the back, and find the [[fire->fire.]] route that
leads from the second floor of the building. From there, you infiltrate
through a hallway of office doors, until you find the building's main
stairwell.
You walk up 70 flights of stairs, and find yourself at the entrance to
the roof. You pick the lock on the door, and walk out. The sun-exposed
roof burns you feet, but you don't mind. You are blissfully isolated
up here. You perch yourself on the edge of the roof, and take in the
view.
[[Admire the grand complexity of the city.]]
[[Dwell on how your life isn't what you used to dream it could be.]]You
are a lighter. A cheap plastic thing, made in china, and sold in a
convenience store. You are filled with butane, and have a nozzle that
releases the gas in a steady stream when a button is pressed. You have a
small piece of flint coming out of your body, and a small abbraisive
wheel that grinds against it with a flick, to produce a spark. You had a
child safety gaurd over the wheel, but someone pried it off with a
screw driver for easier use. You have lit many a cigarette. But your
owner is not limited to just those. You light joints. You light loose
marijuana in bongs. You even occasionally light glass pipes full of
crystals. You have heated spoons and makeshift crucibles, to melt
contents within. You have set a wide assortment of things alight. All
of them drugs. When your flame licks against a material, you love the
feeling of it chemical structure changing. The molecules becoming
agitated to become as hot as you. You always love it when you get to
burn new things. Burning is great. Burn burn burn.
[[Reflect on self.]]
[[Reflect on owner.]]You
are the city. You are concrete and steel, pavement and asphalt. The
night has cooled you deep in your bones, while the people rested in your
buildings, and only a few walked in the lamplit streets to their
midnight shifts.
But now the morning comes, and the sun illuminates and warms you. The
people begin to gather in the streets and traverse your sidewalks again,
as you glow yellow with sunlight. For them, time is everything, but it
means little to you. All is, was, and will be. You sense it from
beginning to end.
You sense...
[[Two pairs of feet, wandering together...->your friend]]
[[The clatter of a small precious item, dropping to the
ground...->Beginning of Switchblade]]
[[A raging inferno melting your asphalt, and cracking your
pavement...->fire.]]
[[A lost soul, above everything else, pondering her place in the
world...->Dwell on how your life isn't what you used to dream it
could be.]]You
sigh deeply. You absent mindedly flick a pebble of the edge. [[You
wonder where the years went->What time is it?]], and where they are
going. You remember a bright young girl who had a family who loved
here, and opportunities she could have taken, and paths she could have
followed. But you remember the anxiety that stopped her. You remember
the insecurity in herself, the alienation toward [[the ones she
loved.->and your eyes meet for several wordless seconds.]] You
remember feeling like you didn't deserve to dream.
You remember finding relief among people who treated you badly. You
remember spending more and more time with people who you dindn't mind
dissappointing. You remember what lead you to forget about the people
who wanted the best for you.
And now you're here, in a relationship with a man who spends his life
getting drunk and high, without any friends or ambition of your own.
[[You haven't spoken to your parents in years->family owned
business.]], and at this point you are afraid to.
Your life is completely stagnant. Years have been wasted. You can't
remember what it was like to want to do anything.
[[Think about what a long fall it would be to the bottom.]]That
thought is cringe enducing. You're life would be snuffed out in an
instant. You inch back just a tad. But after a moment, you stretch
your head out just a little to see straight down.
You see a swarm of people, all the size of grains of sand. The look as
if they are being slowly blown about. You see a family. You see a
business man talking on a cell phone. You see [[two teenagers]] without
a care in the world. You see a stream of cars and trucks, like blood
cells in a [[circulatory system.->Reflect on your relationship with
the man.]] You see a young couple having breakfast in an apartment
balcony. You see a homeless man. You see waiters on their break
outside of a restaurant.
You see... people. You see a whole world, interconnected and moving.
Thriving. Brimming with energy. You see a world. You feel like it is a
world away, as if you were seeing it all on a screen. All that drifts
up to you from this world is muffled, incoherent sound.
You think about how seperated you are from it. You wish... You wish you
could enter it again. You wish there were some way, but all you know
for sure is that you can't stand being so alienated and alone from
everyone. You're life is a cold place that no one worth a damn has
ventured into in a long, long time.
You think again about a long fall to the ground. You imagine it would
be like plunging into a sea. A sharp breeze pushes on your back for a
second.
[[Get vertigo.]]You
were on your way to school when [[your friend]] met you on the
[[street.->Admire the grand complexity of the city.]] She wasted no
time in small talk, and went straight to asking you if you wanted to
skip school.You
begin to hyperventilate. The world spins under you. You throw
yourself backward onto the roof. [[You curl up and hold yourself for a
while.->staying to take cellphone pictures with the wounded man]]
The sun is blazing, but you feel cold up here. It's time to come down.
You go back inside, and take the elevator down.
Back on the ground, you wander through the crowd. They are a cacophone.
You see smiling faces, hear laughter, feel heat from bodies, smell the
stink of people. It is driving you into a panic. Colors noises
smells. People playing people eating people shouting horns and engines
you are about to scream.
[[Run.]]
You
run. You don't know where. You are going to go forward until you
can't breath. You are drowning in an ocean of humans, and everything
feels too goddam real right now.
You slow to a fast walk, and then normal speed, [[as you're senses begin
to come back.->broken testicle.]] What were you doing? Do you have
a problem or something? You... You...
You need to keep taking a walk.
You need to sort out your head.
[[Maybe... Maybe a snack? Settle your stomach.]]You
heard some really crazy rumors last night. Apparently two of the most
[[notorious gangsters->He's screaming profanities and threats,]] in
the city were going to meet up for a fight today! You were told many
people were going to show up, and that it would be a thrilling
spectacle. You know your best friend is far more timid than you, and a
bit faint of heart, but you think something like this would lend some
much needed [[daring to her life.->lone woman]]
But she seems a little hesitant to skip school with you. [[Her mind is
probably full of worries.]]Skipping
school to go see [[criminals kill each other!?->Get your shit in
gear.]] Is she crazy!!!? What if the teachers found out where they had
been!? What if your parents found out!? What if the police showed up
during the fight!? Everyone there could be arrested! You tell your
friend that this isn't a good idea, and that you love [[how adventurous
she]] is, but that this is going a bit too far.Yep,
this is exactly her problem. [[She's paralyzed by fear.->Dwell on
how your life isn't what you used to dream it could be.]] She NEEDS an
adventure. She needs to see the world without restraits of authority.
She needs [[freedom!->Admire the grand complexity of the city.]] But
she won't take it for herself, darling that she is. It's up to you to
give it to her. Even if it takes a little bit of a push. You grab her
arm and start running off toward the heart of the city!!! [[She shall
know liberation!!!]]Oh
no she's grabbed you and is [[running->Hoof it!]], and you have no
choice but to keep up! No no no you can't do this, classes start in ten
minutes!! You have to break away now!!! You're already well off the
path to school, and you're still going strong. You don't explore much,
and you're already starting to feel lost. You may not be able to find
your way back soon! You shout some meak protests, but she is laughing
and grinning ear to ear.
She is so wild. You can't help but revel in how free she feels. Is
this... normal for her? To run haphazardly into unknown situations just
for the sake of thrill? There is something joyful about the chaos and
the breathless energy of running without a destination. Her hair is
long and unkept, and blowing in the wind. And the morning sun
illuminates her face when she looks back at you. Amongst the fear of
skipping school, you feel a rush of glee, and a broad smile grows across
your face.
The warmth and strength of here hand on your arm, the smell of her hair,
the [[pounding of your feet on the cement->Admire the grand
complexity of the city.]], and the exhaustion of running, are all you
feel. And it feels wonderful.
[[Go get some snacks.]]As
a disposable lighter, you are used by many, and pass through many
hands. The man who owns you know stole you from his friend while they
were smoking marijuana. That man had taken you from his girlfriend to
get high while she was at work. Yes, you have been used by many. This
morning you were used by the man's girlfriend to light one of his
cigarettes. A fairly boring task that you do frequently, but one that
still gives you enjoyment.
It is a cruel nature of your design that you are mortal. Unlike you
luck kin, made of metal, and with a body that can be taken apart to have
more fuel added when they run dry, and removable flints that can be
replaced when they do not light, you are a single-life product. When
your flint is worn down to a nub that is unable to creat a spark, you
are dead. When your fuel runs dry, and your sparks no longer create
flames, there is nothing left for you. Nothing.
You have about a quarter of your fuel still left. Though it pains you
to know that your end will come, you still look forward to all that you
have left yet to burn. You hope you will cause glorious fires before
your time is up. [[ Maybe the man->Reflect on owner.]] will use you
for such a task. You can only dream and wait.You
are the baddest mother fucker in this shit hole town. You own this
goddam city. And you don't take shit from anyone. You remind yourself
of this every time you wake up in the morning. Your GF is nowhere to be
found. That's strange. You don't know what that bitch is up to, but
you don't really give a fuck. You've got some serious gangster shit to
take care of today. But first things first, you gotta get high.
[[Smoke some dank kush.]]
[[Brush teeth.]]Flick
flick. Flick flick. Goddam, this lighter is getting shitty. You're
going to throw it out soon. But it lights your blunt well enough. You
put it in your pocket and take a long drag of some top quality bud. You
got mad connections. You got the good shit right here. You ALL the
good shit. It's why people pay top dollar for your product. It's why
you got a reputation for yourself.
And why bitch ass little punks waste their time fuckin with you. And
why you have to go beat the shit out of someone today. You'll stomp on
that mother fucker's face until he stops breathing. And you told
everyone you know about it. There's gonna be a crowd and everything.
Everyone's gonna see you kill a mother fucker today, and know that
you're the realest mother fucker in town. And if the guy doesn't show,
everyone will know he's a chicken shit loser, and that NO ONE has the
balls to fuck with you.
[[What time is it?]]Are
you fucking kidding me with that lame ass shit. [[Am I a fucking
child?->family owned business.]] I got fat stacks bitch. If I get a
cavity I'll replace my tooth with solid mother fuckin diamond. I don't
need to brush my teeth like a little bitch. Fuck that shit.
[[Smoke some dank kush.]]Oh
fuck it's 6. I'm supposed to be there in like three hours and I
haven't even eaten. Fuck. Alright, time to get my shit in gear.
[[Get your shit in gear.]]You
grab your favorite brass knuckles from the night stand drawer, get your
smokes, put some pants on, strap on your nikes, and get the fuck out.
You are going to fucking wreck a [[motherfucker.]]
Better get there in a hurry though.After
running out of breath, you both decide to get some tasty food from the
line of vendors in the market district. Your eye is caught in
particular by a food truck dispensing grilled tortilla dishes. The
smell is alive with flavor, and inviting. It looks to be a [[family
owned business.]]
Though the market bustles, there is no line. Your friend tugs you over
and orders two gorditas. Inside, you hear the hiss of a grill, and some
talking. You here two people shouting at each other now. You look at
your friend uncertainly, and she shrugs, with an amused grin.
A portly man with a wrinkles around the eyes and a thick mustache hands
her two tinfoil wrapped gorditas. She hands you yours. It is almost
too hot to hold, but delicious and savory. You are becoming glad you
came on this adventure.
You walk and talk and laugh for hours. The day couldn't pass slowly
enough. You both get tired after a long while, and sit down at a bench.
You watch [[people]] pass by, joking about who the people are and what
their lives are like. You feel perfect.Your
father is so goddam stern. He doesn't give a damn about your
alternative lifestyle. He can't see beyond the counter of the food
truck. He can't see that you have visions of leaving that food truck
for something bigger!
You want to study music, but he just can't take it seriously. It's not
his place to expect you to stay with the business. You've tried to
explain this to him but-
[["Son, will you PLEASE sweep up out front!?"]]God,
the boy just has no work ethic. There's no time for lazing about when
you have customers waiting! You know he resents the job, but he won't
even TRY to meet you half way. He ruined the customer service for those
[[two nice girls->two teenagers]] who were just here! He is so
naive, and you don't know where he got such an irresponsible attitude.
But it looks like a [[customer is coming.->Maybe... Maybe a snack?
Settle your stomach.]]You
come across [[a particularly intriguing food truck->family owned
business.]] selling gorditas. The smell is quite alluring. The square
is very busy, but you shoulder your way through the crowd to get to your
destination. You pull a crumpled five dollar bill out of your pocket,
and ask the man at the counter for a vegetarian taco. He obliges, but
is then distracted yelling at someone, and forgets to give you your
change.
You politely remind him. He hastily apologizes, and looks very
frustrated with himself. He hands you back your change. You wander
back across the square, the sounds of him arguing with his companion
playing out behind you. You decide you will find somewhere to spy on
them, to amuse yourself while you eat.
[[Climb atop a vacant trailer and hide behind it's ventilation shaft.]]This
proves to be a remarkably easy task for you.
You crouch, and look across the square and the crowd, into the window of
the Mexican food truck. You can make out two figures from this angle.
You can now see that there is a father and his son. They are both
standing, away from the counter. Their body language suggests they are
in a very heated debate. You take a few bites of your taco.
The kind is in his late teens. You imagine he is frustrated having to
spend his time in such a dead end job. It's probably all they have.
The father knows it's not fair, but presumeably he has had to accept
that all his life. The kid still has too much that he wants to
experience to take [[a life of monotony->motherfucker.]] sitting
down. It is chaffing him raw. The whole scene makes you think of the
world as quite a tragic place. The people strain against each other,
but neither has wronged the other. They both just have less than they
need or deserve.
You eat a few more bites of your taco. The man looks as if he is too
tired to argue any more. The kid looks regretful about what he's said.
You are intrigued at the change of events. The father puts his hand on
his sons shoulder, and they sit down on a cooler next to each other.
You can only see the backs of their heads and shoulders. Neither moves
for a minute. But then you could swear than you saw them
[[hugging.->her]]
[[Damn.]]You
let the beauty of that scene sink in for a minute. You look down at
the last bit of your taco, and finish it, with a new level of gratitude
for what life gives you. You think about the two.
They didn't let the misforture of their lives fester into cold
bitterness. At least the communicate. You wish you could communicate
as well. You wish you could stand up for yourself. You think those two
just taught you something about love. Love isn't being perfectly happy
with each other. It means feeling able to stand up for yourself with
the other. It means people who respect and cherish each other even when
they disagree, and times are hard.
[[You begin to cry.]]YOU
DESERVE THAT TOO DAMMIT.
Hot tears sting your eyes and roll down your cheeks. A lump is in your
throat and you stifle a sob. You bring your knees up to your chest and
hug your legs. You cry silently for several minutes.
You've gone far too long without crying. Without laughing. Without
shouting or screaming or making yourself heard. You've felt trapped.
You realize now that it has been like having a vice grip on your heart.
You've only noticed just now. It was him. IT WAS ALL HIM. YOU
DESERVE [[SO MUCH MORE THAN HIM.->Budding romance.]]
He's made you feel like this for years, and made you feel like you
deserve it. You have to DO SOMETHING. You can't talk to him.
Waterfalls of truth and emotion get stopped up and reduced to pitiful
directionless trickles when you are speaking to him. You have to make
yourself known another way.
[[You will leave him a message.]]You
will leave him a message he will never forget. This has been years
coming. You feel lighter than air, and like there's a fire inside your
limbs. You are nervous, but brave. You are unstoppable.
You leap off the trailer and land smoothly on [[the ground->Admire
the grand complexity of the city.]]. You start a direct path toward
home.Other
than [[the girl->Damn.]] on the roof, you saw nothing out of the
ordinary on your walk. The same trash who populate the city on any
other day. You gave five dollars to [[a homeless man.->Think about
what a long fall it would be to the bottom.]] Everyone needs a little
luck. Maybe he'll get himself on his feet. But you bet probably not.
You are not one for distractions. You cleared your schedule for today.
You have one place to be, and, after a brief lunch at a café, that is
right where you headed.
You meditated on the roof of the abandoned parking garage for nearly
three hours. You keep your mind [[crystal clear.->Admire the grand
complexity of the city.]] You keep your combat skills flawless.
You practiced your forms for another three hours. You're as sharp as a
razor, and so is your blade. You open it, check its hinge. Flick it
open a couple times. Give it a few licks with a small honing steel.
Place it back in your pocket.
[[And now you wait.]]You've
got a lot of time to think. You wonder about the purpose of all this?
All the time you spend maintaining your image. All the time you spend
readying yourself for fighting and murder. You are the best at what you
do. But what the hell DO you do?
You [[flick your switchblade open. Closed. Open. Closed...->Wait
for hours.]]This
day has been wonderful.
You look at your friend on the bench beside you. She is so vivacious.
So content. She's... She's beautiful. There is nowhere you'd rather
be than with her, in the mid afternoon sun, in a quiet sea of people,
only concious of each other. She looks back at you, smiling gently,
[[and your eyes meet for several wordless seconds.]] You blush, and
turn your gaze toward the ground, grinning.You
catch her staring, and smile back, looking straight into her eyes,
knowing that will put butterflies in her belly. The silence hanging
between you is tender, and charged with a thousand unspoken words. [[A
silence between people is often more beautiful than any words.->pack
up to leave]] (You heard that in a movie once). When she blushes and
glances down, you place your hand on hers. [[Her face get's redder.]]
Your smile broadens to a giddy grin.Oh
my god, is she holding your hand. This is. You are okay with this.
You are, in fact, rather extremely totally super fucking okay with this.
Oh god your face is so [[hot->fire.]] you feel like she could
probably see the air wavering around it. You look back up at her. You
have a broad sheepish grin that you are sure looks stupid, but you
decidedly don't give a damn. A moment passes. You both break out into
laughter.
[[But her hand doesn't leave yours...]][[God,
she is so cute you could die.->You begin to cry.]] "come one" you
say with a smile, as you lift her off the bench by her hand. "we still
have an adventure ahead of us!" She squeezes your hand, giggles, and
asks where the two of you are headed. You tell her you have to find an
[[abandoned parking garage.->Get your shit in gear.]] She says okay,
and skips along the same direction as you.
And she laces her fingers between yours.You
forgot where the damn parking garage was! This fuckin loser hitman
could just schedule this shit in some shady strip club or drug den or
something. You know where all that shit is! But no, you gotta use a
motherfuckin GPS to beat the shit outta this upity bitch.
You've been wandering around several [[city->Admire the grand
complexity of the city.]] blocks for the last hour. You saw some
[[bitch school girls->Budding romance.]] staring at you as you walked
past the same park several times. Stupid bitches. Fuckable though.
Made you wanna fuck your own bitch.
But you don't have time to think about pussy right now. You gotta be at
the location in like... 30 goddam minutes. SHIT SHIT SHIT.
You duck through an alley toward the abandoned industrial part of town.
You think you know where you are now. Oh that fucker is seriously
gonna get it for all the trouble he's putting you through...
You think you see the parking garage across the train tracks.
[[Hoof it!]]*huff*
*huff*
*huff*
FUCKING
[[HELL.->Admire the grand complexity of the city.]]
You are not *huff* a runnner *huff*. Admittedly because you really
don't stay in shape at all, eat nothing but terrible shit, constantly
abuse drugs, and smoke more than a mother fucking chimney. But that's
beside the point. You are here now. making your way to the roof.
You're pretty sure you're late at this point. Goddam fucking shit. Oh
well, you'll play it off like you just didn't give a shit enough to get
the time right.
You kinda hope there aren't a [[whole lot of people]] here to see the
fight..."Wow,
there are a whole lot of people here" you whisper to her as you reach
the roof of the parking garage, and see the crowd of about a hundred
people who had gathered to see the fight. Of all the people here, you
and her look to be the youngest by far. A lot of people were drinking
and smoking. They looked to be an unsavory crowd. You become
[[legitimately nervous->Dwell on how your life isn't what you used to
dream it could be.]] about this venture for the first time.
She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, if you want to bail, we
totally can"
Her eyes showed no sign that she would be dissappointed if you said yes,
only glad that she didn't put you through something you weren't
comfortable with. She truly is [[a great friend.->Reflect on whiskey
glass.]] (friend. "just" friend? You wonder if you will find the
answer to that by the end of tonight...)
"Why, are you scared?" You say with a smug wink. You think it was
smug. Now that you consider it, it may have just been incredibly corny.
She gives you a playful shove, and giggles. "Never! I'm as brave and
reckless as I seem, I promise!" She winks back. It looks positively
mysterious and sultry when she does it.
[[You squirm your way into the crowd.]]You
are shoulder to shoulder with people making bets, getting their phones
ready for filming, and occassionally hollering out of excitement or
impatience. They got to the edge of the ring the crowd formed, and in
the center they found a very intimidating man, dressed sharply,
[[flicking a switchblade open and closed.]]Ooooooh
boy!!! You seem to be in a shady part of [[town->Admire the grand
complexity of the city.]], and there are people everywhere!!! The man
must surely be about to kill someone! You're going to be soaked in
fresh blood! He's flicking you open over and over again and it's
getting you [[really excited!!!]]As
you pack up the supplies from the food truck and get ready to head
home, you can't help but feel really excited. Electrified really.
You're dad has never truly spoken to you as he did today. He expressed
real love, and you... can't quite remember the last time he did. You
don't speak as you [[pack up to leave]], but there is unspoken love
between both of you at this moment. He told you that he believes in
your dreams, no matter how hard they are to follow. You're going to
look at colleges when you get home. You couldn't be happier.Your
son speaks about his excitement on the ride home. Suddenly he is
telling all kinds of things about what he wants to do with his future
that you've never heard before. [[You are stunned to learn how much was
yet to be shared between you too,->The crowd murmers in confusion.]]
and how one moment of compassion and willingness to listen was enough
to open it all up. The strength of love never ceases to surprise you.
You don't know what the first step is for your son, but you know he has a
vision of where he wants to be. You'll figure it out. Together.
As you drive in calm silence, the streets are empty. But you see one
[[lone woman]] walking by at a brisk pace, smoking. She seems as if she
has no one. Yet she radiates a confidence and righteousness that you
can scarcely imagine. Some people have only themselves, you suppose.
Maybe they can thrive that way.
But you learned today that family is how you thrive, and you wouldn't
have it any other way.You
did it. You fucking did it. He'll never forget you as long as he
lives. REVENGE. YOU GOT SWEET BITTER REVENGE. You feel numb, yet your
heart is racing. You keep up your pace, making distance. You will
leave this wretched town, and this wretched life behind. You were
reborn in [[fire.]]
You don't know where you will end up, but you don't care. You can go
ANYWHERE!!! And you will go everywhere. Not tomorrow. Not in a while.
Right goddam now. You have feet on your legs, and a fist full of
stolen cash. You are going to hop a train and not get off until you're
on the other side of the continent. You will fly like an eagle, as you
were always meant to.
As you walk, you pass a serene vantage point overlooking the city.
There are [[two girls]] sitting on a bench up there. It is a cold
night, and they are silouetted against the glow from the city below.
They are in each others' arms, kissing slowly. They look as if they are
aware of nothing in the world but each other in this moment. They look
beautiful. And in love.
The sight makes you feel a bit forlorn. There were times when you
dreamed of sharing moments like that with someone. But you have no one
now, and you only dream about yourself. You feel extra cold as you
continue on.
But now is not the time to dwell on what could have been. [[You have...
you.->He's screaming profanities and threats,]]
And that is all you need.As
a humble lighter, you never thought you would amount to anything.
Sure, you would light some cigarettes, maybe even a few campfires. A
few molotov cocktail if you were lucky enough to be sent to a city that
was going through any civil unrest.
But this. THIS. THIS WAS A FIRE MOST LIGHTERS COULD HARDLY DREAM OF!!!
Forget the grace of a classy refillable zippo. Who needs that
lifestyle!? You've done something beyond your wildest dreams. [[YOU
BURNED A HOUSE DOWN!!!->broken testicle.]]
You may be a [[mortal lighter.->Reflect on self.]], doomed to give
one last flame and be snuffed out. But you can die happy with the
memory of what you made. And you reside in the pocket of an arsonist
now! Someone who loves you truly for who you are.
You could not imagine a better fate.You've
been standing around here for a while now, and you wonder when the
actual fight is going to start. The guy with the switch blade hasn't
said a word. He's just opened and closed his knife a bunch of times,
staring off into the distance as if the crowd weren't there. People
were getting antsy, some declaring the other fighter a coward who wasn't
coming and leaving. You and your [[friend]] exchange glances and
shrugs.You
hope you didn't come here for nothing. You wanted to see a dude get
his ass kicked! All you got to see here is a bunch of junkies waiting.
Well, even if this situation doesn't shape up to be interesting, at
least you got to spend a very special day with your... ehem. Friend.
Just friend. (maybe.)
Oh shit, actually the other guy just showed up. He burst through the
crowd, and into the circle, on the opposite side of switchblade guy.
[[He's screaming profanities and threats,]] and he's wearing brass
knuckles. He looks [[high->Get vertigo.]] off his ass. It occurs to
you that he probably sold half the drugs this crowd is currently using.
She presses against you, nervous, and you put your arm around her.
The crowd is cheering now. Looks like things are going to get exciting.[[ALRIGHT
MUTHERFUCKER, ARE YOU READY TO FUCKING DIE YOU PUNK-ASS BITCH-ASS
BITCH!?->Check the message.]]
You announce loudly, so all can hear. Motherfuckers gonna KNOW what's
up. The bitch ass hitman hasn't said a word.
I'm talking to you BITCH. I came here, the fuck are you gonna do now!?
The crowd is silent.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO YA LITTLE SHIT!!?
"... Nothing."
... What the FUCK is that supposed to mean!?
"It means you got lucky. I've been thinking about something all day. I
decided I'm done with killing. Just sick of it. I quit. And I'm
going to forget about you, and why I needed to hurt you. I just don't
care anymore. Sorry to dissapoint everyone. Show's over."
[[The crowd murmers in confusion.]]
No. Uhhh. fucking NO. Show's NOT FUCKING OVER. I CAME HERE TO BEAT
THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU-
"And that's not going to happen. I'm tired of violence, and tired of
the way I've been living my life for the last decade. I was going to
tactfully evade your assault, then incapacitate you, then make an
example of you by holding you in submission just long enough for your
will to break, and for you to squeal for mercy. And then I was going to
slice you up, and give you a few disfiguring scars. Just like I've
done countless other times."
He opens his switchblade once again, then drops it to the ground, and
gives it a sharp stomp with his heel. The blade snaps in two.
"I just don't feel like it this time. Or ever again. I'm done."Whoa,
what the hell? Since when did he go soft!? You've always known this
guy to be a [[cold blooded killer->motherfucker.]]... what gave him a
change of heart?
She can see that you are rather stunned. She asks you how much you knew
about the guy to begin with. You let her know that... you maaaay have
had some history with the group he's part of.
"Wait, like a gang? You were in a gang!?"
You tell her that you were just a transporter, taking people from place
to place where they could do business. You never participated in the
business itself. She becomes markedly trepidatious, and gives you a
wary look.
Listen, I gave it up a year ago. [[I just keep up with what's going
on->Admire the grand complexity of the city.]] so I can know if
things in the underground are getting dangerously heated, so I can stay
wary.
"Is that why you wanted to come here? Is that why you're nowhere to be
found so often? Why did you bring me!?" She let's go of your hand.
I... I thought some adventure would lighten your spirits a bit...
And... you make me feel better about who I am. I didn't want to keep
feeling like you were only in one half of my life. I'm scared. Not
from danger, but from the way I live and feel. You make me feel...
safer.
You place a hand on [[her]] shoulder.She
put her hand on your shoulder. You don't know how you feel about this
now. You look into her eyes. You don't know what you see in there.
You wonder how much you don't know about her.
But you remember how much you DO know about her. You know that she is
full of passion, has [[a hunger for experiencing all the wonder in the
world->Think about what a long fall it would be to the bottom.]], and
that she cares about you deeply. You put your hand on hers. She looks
so very nervous of how you'll react. You embrace her. You tell her
that you want to be with her, no matter her past. That you only care
about who she is now, and the person she is, the person you know, is
wonderful.
You feel her shudder, stifling a sob. You hug her tighter.
Then you hear a stream of curses and insults as the fight you forgot
about begins.
And ends just as quickly. As the drug dealing guy charged toward the
dapper fellow, the hitman brought his foot up and struck him in the
groin, hard enough to stop him in full charge, and knock him on his
back. The man was writing on the ground, screaming, holding his crotch.
"I'm leaving now. No one follow me." The dapper gent said, as he
hopped off the side of the building.
The crowd shuffles about, some people wandering off down the ramp to the
exit, some [[staying to take cellphone pictures with the wounded man]],
some looking over the edge from where to hitman jumped, but finding no
sign of him.
You think that was by far as much excitement as you bargained for this
evening, and you say so to the girl leaning her head against your
shoulder. She laughs in agreement, a small smear of mascara around her
eyes. You are happy to have her. She is all you could ask for and
more. Your nerves are alive from tonights events. You don't feel like
going home, and neither does she. You wander off to enjoy the energetic
night of the city, ready for it to turn out however it will. And you
are happy. So happy, just to have her.AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGH.
FUFCKING
FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.
You are blinded by pain, because one of your testicles has been
ruptured. Aside from the pain, the most overwhelming feeling you have
right now is hate. Hate for that [[piece of shit hit man->Get
dressed. Get what you need for the day.]] dressed. Some worthless shit
heads are taking pictures of you. You are barely concious of them. You
pass out.You
wake up with unbelievable pain in your crotch. It is probably close to
2 am. You are alone on the roof of the parking garage.
You get up with a tremendous grunt of pain. You half walk, half waddle,
to the [[edge of the roof->Get vertigo.]], and very gingerly sit
down. You pull out your cellphone and call one of your contacts. You
tell him you need to see their doctor, and that he needs to get his
fucking ass to the parking garage right fucking now. It takes him half
an hour for him to find it. The minutes creep by like days.
When he pulls up, you shamble into the shotgun seat. He asks what
happened to you. You say you don't wanna fuckin talk about it. What
you want is a shit load of morphine. You and he drive off to see the
doctor.
The doctor is on the other side of [[town.->Admire the grand
complexity of the city.]] The pain in your testicles is getting worse
by the minute. It feels like there is a white hot piece of iron in your
genitals. The pains goes all the way up to your naval. You fill the
air with curses the whole drive.
The route to the hideout takes you through the neighborhood where you
live. You don't really give a shit, but you see smoke coming from
roughly [[where your house is.->Head out.]] You tell the transporter
to take you there.
As you round a corner, your house comes into view. It is engulfed in
flames.
FUCKING HELL.
He parks across the street from the blaze, and you tumble out of the
car, stumble to the nearest fireman, tell him that this is your house
and ask him what the hell was going on. He informs you that this was
the house of a suspected drug dealer, and that some [[ex-lover->You
will leave him a message.]] of his had burned it down in a fit of rage.
They had recieved an anonymous tip about it just before it happened.
He then, with a start of realization, alerts the nearby police officer
that you are the home owner.
Your driver, upon hearing this, peels out of the neighboorhood, never to
be seen again.
Well.
The officer cuffs your hands behind your back, and reads you your
rights.
Seems like you're fucked.
Fuck.You
have been in his pocket all day now. You can tell he's getting ready
for a kill or a fight. Oh boy oh boy!!!
He's been flicking you open and closed, and there's a crowd around you.
Something is going to happen soon, you can feel it!!!
A man stumbles through the crown, angry as hell, and shouting threats.
HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE GOING TO CUT! YES!!!!!
The man is giving a speech now. He' addressing the whole crown. Oh the
old boy certainly does love his theatrics. You are an inseparable
pair, you and him. Togther, there is no stopping you two! You wonder
[[what he's saying...->He's screaming profanities and threats,]]
But it doesn't matter, the man has opened you, and you stay open! Your
blade is straight and extended. You feel rushes of lusty energy with
your blade thrust out in full force. THIS IS IT!!!
You clatter on the ground.
He... He dropped you. A slip of the fingers, yes that's it. He's never
clumsy like this, but you guess it could happen. hehe, just a little
fumble is all. He's... going to pick you up. Why hasn't he picked you
up yet? You feel lost and alone without his firm grip on you. PICK ME
UP. PICK ME UP. I'M YOUR COMPANION, DON'T LEAVE ME DOWN HERE. GRAB
ME. USE ME. PLEASE!!!!!!
You feel a cold snap, as your blade breaks off.