bodymodserock
New member
- Jun 2, 2010
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It's all good
As I was walking out of the room, I saw a women kick her child. Why? Because the child was crying, isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it normal, in the day of today, to hit your child? Your so-called loved one, the fruit of your womb?
Apparently so…I started walking down the dark street, barely stopping myself from kicking the woman and asking her how it felt. No, “That would be wrong”, my dad had always said to my thoughts of revenge and on how justice should be accomplished.
But I was not he, and I probably would have kicked her if I had not been in a hurry. I had to get to the boat before they went without me. I crossed the road to get to the port, it smelled like rotting fish and urine. How delightful. They were there with some other people, in front of the boat, talking with shushed voices. And of course, looking like the delinquents they were.
I nodded at them and listened to what they said. It wasn’t concerning me so I sat in the boat, wetting my ass. I looked straight ahead of me, wanting this to be over with as soon as possible.
Jorck, the big guy, sat behind me and Janice next to me. The body bag was under my seat, folded over many times. That really had me thinking what they had done to the poor man when I left after he died, but again, none of my business.
We got to a point where the river was deepest; Jorck helped me get the body bag out from under the seat. Damn that man was heavy!
Janice spat on the bag as a sign of good luck, Jorck chuckled but I wasn’t amused at all, nothing funny in killing a man. In taking a life, that wasn’t yours to take. Hurting a life form, that was created to live, in peace and serenity.
Back on the port I roamed around to see if I could find some cheap fish to buy, or even steal. There was only a black cat that kept following me around, curling its tail around my legs. I picked the cat up, wrapped it in my coat and headed home. On the way I passed a market, quickly put some fruit in my pockets and bought a big very cheap bottle of watered down milk.
I turned the key in the front door of the condominium where I lived. Magda was cleaning the floor with a brown rag. She was on her knees and her fingers were all red on the point of bleeding. I walked over to her and said hi. I never talk to anyone but her. I like her. She responded with a “hi” in a very low voice without even raising her head. I lifted up her head by the chin and saw a slash of pain go thought her eyes. Her cheek had been cut from her ear to the corner of her lips.
I knew who had done this. Bort was her farther and the manager of the condominium. She still lived with him because after all she was only 15. He had mistreated her all her life. He had done things to her some people couldn’t and wouldn’t even imagine. I hated him and truly wanted to kill him. I wanted to take his life for what he had done to his own daughter’s life.
I lifted Magda to her feet and brought her up to my apartment. She was reluctant afraid that her farther would find out. She trusted me thought. Magda and I had talked once about the situation with her farther. She had told me she didn’t love her him and she didn’t have sympathy for his stupidity. She wouldn’t think twice about soaring him the most violent of deaths.
I helped Magda walk up the stares mostly carrying her. She was just skins and bones, hardly ate anything. I lay her on my bed, and gave her a glass of warm milk with some honey I had stolen from a grocery shop the week before. After a while she fell asleep with the black cat snuggled tight in her bony arms.
After much thought of the proceedings I took the gun that I kept hidden under the broken kitchen stove and put it in my pants.
I walked down to the first floor where Bort was yelling at the old lady who lived on the second floor. She couldn’t pay her rent just as well as the rest of the tenants. All he ever used the money for was booze and even when nobody could pay him he still reeked of alcohol.
Bort hit the old lady on the face and she fell at his feet. He started kicking her while yelling some drunken nonsense. I got up close enough to feel his heartbeat. I took out the gun and shot him. I didn’t feel disgust for myself for having killed him; all I felt was relief.
Bort had been the cause of so much unhappiness for so many people. He was just a problem with no reason to live. In that moment I didn’t care that the problem had been a human, with a life and emotions…so to speak.
I took his life to spare one that could still be saved.
As I was walking out of the room, I saw a women kick her child. Why? Because the child was crying, isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it normal, in the day of today, to hit your child? Your so-called loved one, the fruit of your womb?
Apparently so…I started walking down the dark street, barely stopping myself from kicking the woman and asking her how it felt. No, “That would be wrong”, my dad had always said to my thoughts of revenge and on how justice should be accomplished.
But I was not he, and I probably would have kicked her if I had not been in a hurry. I had to get to the boat before they went without me. I crossed the road to get to the port, it smelled like rotting fish and urine. How delightful. They were there with some other people, in front of the boat, talking with shushed voices. And of course, looking like the delinquents they were.
I nodded at them and listened to what they said. It wasn’t concerning me so I sat in the boat, wetting my ass. I looked straight ahead of me, wanting this to be over with as soon as possible.
Jorck, the big guy, sat behind me and Janice next to me. The body bag was under my seat, folded over many times. That really had me thinking what they had done to the poor man when I left after he died, but again, none of my business.
We got to a point where the river was deepest; Jorck helped me get the body bag out from under the seat. Damn that man was heavy!
Janice spat on the bag as a sign of good luck, Jorck chuckled but I wasn’t amused at all, nothing funny in killing a man. In taking a life, that wasn’t yours to take. Hurting a life form, that was created to live, in peace and serenity.
Back on the port I roamed around to see if I could find some cheap fish to buy, or even steal. There was only a black cat that kept following me around, curling its tail around my legs. I picked the cat up, wrapped it in my coat and headed home. On the way I passed a market, quickly put some fruit in my pockets and bought a big very cheap bottle of watered down milk.
I turned the key in the front door of the condominium where I lived. Magda was cleaning the floor with a brown rag. She was on her knees and her fingers were all red on the point of bleeding. I walked over to her and said hi. I never talk to anyone but her. I like her. She responded with a “hi” in a very low voice without even raising her head. I lifted up her head by the chin and saw a slash of pain go thought her eyes. Her cheek had been cut from her ear to the corner of her lips.
I knew who had done this. Bort was her farther and the manager of the condominium. She still lived with him because after all she was only 15. He had mistreated her all her life. He had done things to her some people couldn’t and wouldn’t even imagine. I hated him and truly wanted to kill him. I wanted to take his life for what he had done to his own daughter’s life.
I lifted Magda to her feet and brought her up to my apartment. She was reluctant afraid that her farther would find out. She trusted me thought. Magda and I had talked once about the situation with her farther. She had told me she didn’t love her him and she didn’t have sympathy for his stupidity. She wouldn’t think twice about soaring him the most violent of deaths.
I helped Magda walk up the stares mostly carrying her. She was just skins and bones, hardly ate anything. I lay her on my bed, and gave her a glass of warm milk with some honey I had stolen from a grocery shop the week before. After a while she fell asleep with the black cat snuggled tight in her bony arms.
After much thought of the proceedings I took the gun that I kept hidden under the broken kitchen stove and put it in my pants.
I walked down to the first floor where Bort was yelling at the old lady who lived on the second floor. She couldn’t pay her rent just as well as the rest of the tenants. All he ever used the money for was booze and even when nobody could pay him he still reeked of alcohol.
Bort hit the old lady on the face and she fell at his feet. He started kicking her while yelling some drunken nonsense. I got up close enough to feel his heartbeat. I took out the gun and shot him. I didn’t feel disgust for myself for having killed him; all I felt was relief.
Bort had been the cause of so much unhappiness for so many people. He was just a problem with no reason to live. In that moment I didn’t care that the problem had been a human, with a life and emotions…so to speak.
I took his life to spare one that could still be saved.