No Future / No Past

[ItzToxie]

“Hey dude.”

….


…

“Yeah.”


…

“Alan ain’t give a fuck about us. Wouldn’t even stay for you. Don’t think he’ll be back either.”


…..


“I fucked up dude. I panicked. I asked for help and he wouldn’t come and… I forgot water would do that.”

“I know. Ain’t an excuse, but I couldn’t just… stand there man. Couldn’t just watch like him.”

“Shoulda acted sooner, I shoulda seen her coming but… you’d think nobody’s that fucking psycho right? Just wakes up looking to burn someone?”

“Yeah. She’s been dreaming all her life for something like this. It’s aite though, Ima- Ima make it her nightmare soon. I owe her that for both of us.”

“Owe Kennedy too… I’ll get your finger back, or one of hers as a replacement.”

“Guess I gotta cover you up now. Sorry I’m all that’s here. Nobody else cared to come. I’ll come back though. I won’t forget.”

Crispin looked at the mound of dirt he’d left by Moose’s hole. With dry dust covered, cut hands, cracked nails, split skin, he began to return the soil back to its natural position, Moose underneath. By the time he was done, the sun had set, but his work was far from finished.

Wrapping his arm around one of the poles attached to the outer fence of the compound, he climbed, resting just below the barbed wire. Fingerless gloved hands felt around the razor wire, fingertips cutting themselves, before they found a good grip.

Wincing in preparation, Crispy bared his teeth.


There was no sun remaining by the time he’d finished disinfecting and patching himself up, bandages wrapped his fingers, and his lips and gums were tender. He tasted blood.

He felt his gloves in his hands, now with the wire wrapped around the protective rubber exteriors. He clenched, and unclenched his fists. It’s a good thing he’s had his tetanus and rabies shots.

Even now, he knew he didn’t stand a chance in hell of making it home. Even if he did, a normal life was out of the picture. He had no friends left, and he knew he his face was destroyed under the bandages.

He had no future, and no past. That was fine by him. He knew what he was good at, and he knew what he had to do.

If these bitches wanted him dead so bad, they were finna work for it. Least he could do was give ‘em hell on the way out. Crispy pulled his hood up.

((Crispin Cuyler continued elsewhere.))