Monday, December 05, 2011

The letter fell like a feather, lifting, drifting and gliding, until it landed on the hall floor, unheard and unnoticed in the throng of students. Penny's face was utterly blank a moment, staring into space. Then her brows knit and she worried her lip, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.
The note, a simple sheet of lined paper, made ornate with a specialized font invented by the writer himself and a drawing of an impaled heart that cast a finely foreshortened shadow of a man with head cradled in hands, crouching over his knees, was trampled, again and again. Shoe marks of dust and dirt began to show, and she pushed away some junior student she didn’t know with a growl before he could filthy it further. She grabbed it, holding her backpack back with one hand as she stooped, and stuffed it in the waist band of her skirt.
She made her way back down the hall, going in the wrong direction, pushing people to the side when it suited her. Out the back of the 900 hall, and towards the portables she stomped, hands baling into fists around the ties of her bag.
Only Siggy and the other delinquents remained at their haunt. Charlie, tall and long of face and torso, leaned against the steps to the unused portable smoking a cigarette. Bear, the fat one with glasses, watched her coming with his hands clutching the hem of his shirt nervously. Siggy stood atop the steps proper, watching her approach with a mixture of a cool expression and shifting feet.
Penny neared, glaring at Charlie and Bear in turn, but they refused to move. She opened her mouth to chew them out, but Siggy coughed and she craned her neck to look up at him. The others did the same.
“Hey guys, why don't you give us a moment.”
“Aw yr not going to take her back, are you?” Charlie whined, giving Penny a darkly derisive look, which she returned.
“Come on, man,” Bear said quietly, tugging Charlie's arm, drawing the vile boy away.
As Penny watched them go, she felt her anger dissolve into hurt and confusion. She looked up at Siggy, who merely looked back. He was dressed in stylish black. Army surplus pants, a tee-shirt a rock band had commissioned him to make, and hair glued into spikes revolved around the spikes that ringed his neck, wrists, the armor rings that covered one knuckle of one hand, two of the other.
“Siggy...” She began, trying to keep the edge of fury in her voice.
“Yeah?” He asked, leaning on the rail of the tiny platform. She climbed the few steps, meeting him eye to eye, thanks to her ridiculously tall knee high boots.

“What the hell is this?” She pulled the crumpled note from her skirt and shoved it toward him. He just looked at her. “A week ago you wanted me to marry you, and now you’re breaking up with me?! That's fucking retarded.” He regarded her with his blue eyes. There was something there, but it was walled away. How hard had she worked to break those walls down? They were back now.
“Look you’re just too stupid. “ He replied, averting his eyes abruptly, examining his buckled, steel toed boots. “I didn't think you would really fall for that crap. “ He mumbled. There was something off about the tone of his voice.
“Stupid? Me?” She paused with disbelief. “Siggy, my reading comprehension reached college level in 6th grade. You're not in one honors class. I'm in AGP !”
“There are different kinds of intelligence, Penny.” He sighed, playing with his rings.
“I can draw too! You saw what I did in Ms. Morris' class. She's going to enter it in the regional Stars contest.” She saw the look that flashed in his eyes. Her anger boiled. “ Well, gee, my fault for not being in a level 3 art class. You know I've only been here a ….a year.” She faltered at the measurement of time.
“I don't mean art. You just...yu don't know how to handle people, Penny. You cause too much drama. You've pissed everyone in the group off.”
“Right. Heather wanted you to wait for her while she dates other guys, so I'm the villain. Bear is a moron, and Charlie is bitter cause he's ugly and I told him yelling lewd things at girls wont get him laid. Clearly, I'm at fault.” She wanted the sarcasm to eat away at him, to lash into into him, to make him hurt.
“Why'd yu say yes?” He asked abruptly, looking up at her. His facade was cracking, but not in the way she expected. Instead of guilt or nervousness in his pale blue gaze there was only deep pain, and resignation.
“What do you mean? I love you. I ….I want to be with you.”
“Then why didn't you tell me the truth?”
“The truth about what?” Penny recoiled. What the hell is he talking about?
“Just forget it. Look, you might love me, you might not. But I can't love someone who is constantly lying to me. In fact, I don't even know you. What I do know is that you’re a user, Penny: a user and a whore.” The words hit her like a wall of water, making her unable to breathe. She drifted in that moment, watching him brush past her as the bell rang, and the students cleared from the courts, the green, into halls and stand alone classrooms. Finally time began to flow for her again, and found she was in the same place, the same moment. She watched as he walked away, the humble saunter she had so admired on an alpha...He was the leader of a band of lowlifes, but a leader still.
Her chest constricted, blood pounded in her ears and as if sensing her pleading gaze on his back, he turned to look at her. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted across the now desolate space between them. “Congrats though! You fooled everyone. Just find another sucker.” And with that he turned, and entered the arts hall.
Penny felt hot tears welling in her eyes, and dropped her backpack to the ground in a single fluid motion, turning to sit on the steps.
She sat, and stared, gasping air and fighting the threatening flood of self pity that welled up inside her core, making her want to vomit. She shook her head, talking to herself softly.
“Impossible. I did nothing wrong! Nothing! Someone lied..but Siggy's never believed a rumor before. How could he just drop me like that? Doesn't he love me?” She shuddered.
“Do you love me, Penny?” Siggy had asked.
“You know I do.” They stood in a darkened street, the scent of fresh light rain and gasoline mixing, not unpleasantly. He was facing her, cupping her chin in his hands, love overflowing from his gaze.
But then the scene changed...Siggy's face morphed. His skin grew dark, turned to leather, his features becoming obscure, unreadable. Red fog wreathed around his head and he grew even taller, the air heavy with incense. She heard sound of her own moaning, felt hot liquid gushing down between her legs .
“Do you love me Penny?” It was Siggy's voice, but not his face, and Penny shoved her palms into her eyes, willing the hallucinations, these false memories to go away.
“Not a whore...not a whore...” She whispered into nothingness.
“Hey! You can't be out here!” The voice startled her, and she turned toward it. A geeky monitor with a neon sash was approaching her, and she composed her face quickly, drawing in a shaky breath, and smiling. She hopped from her seat, and grabbed her bag.
“Yeah I know.” She said with an impish grin, winking at him as she swept past him, before he could finish writing up her hall pass.
“Hey! You know you can't get into class without this!!” He called after her, even as she swung the heavy door to the 900 hall open.

“Yeah!” She called back, and let the door fall closed behind her. The short hall was empty, and she made her way to her Latin class at a steady pace, not rushing in the least. “Most people can't at least.” She said to herself with a small, sad smile, and went about her day.
Part 2
“Hey you’re that girl, aren't you?” The voice surprised her, but only mildly. She looked up from her sketch pad, stopping her pencil. As her head moved, the veil of hair that so conveniently kept her from making eye contact with others shifted back, and she lifted an eyebrow at him.
“Do I know you?” Annoyance dripped heavily from every syllable.
“Maybe. I'm friends with Crackhead Kevin, and Aphrodite.” Penny rolled her eyes.
“You mean Austin and Michelle.”
“Yeah. But no one calls them that.”
“Kevin's not a crackhead, and Michelle is not a goddess.” She responded, looking back down at her paper. The outlines of faceless girls dancing in the center of a circle of seated figures covered it. With a clenching of her jaw she grabbed her eraser, quickly and carefully removing the seated figures before continuing to work on the vague image's details. The boy who had spoken didn't go away, despite her obvious avoidance of him.
Instead he sat. He was tall. She knew this because even from under her lashes she could see where the table came to his torso. “Your name is Penny right? Penny the whore. You have a double life at some brothel.”
“I'm not a whore.” She said flatly, still not looking up at him. “That’s a bullshit rumor someone started because they're a coward.”
“Hey, you know I would be a whore too, if I was a chick. It's so easy for girls to get laid! It's totally what I would do to make money too” Penny added hair to the girls, some short and even half shaved, some long, and began to detail their exotic features silently. “Are you just going to ignore me?” He asked after a long moment. She didn't answer. “My name is Justin, but people call me Cookie Monster.”
“You say that like it's something to be proud of.” There was no emotion in her voice. She wasn't sure if there ever would be again.
“At least I have a nickname. People know who I am. But you’re way more famous.”
“The word you’re looking for is notorious.”
“Um...okay. I'm not good at no word shit.” Penny glanced up at him again. He had anglosaxton sharp features, made sharper with eyeliner and lip gloss.
“Are you wearing makeup?” She asked.
“Yeah.” She looked at him bluntly a moment, before looking back down, changing the size of one girl's breasts. “I'm not a faggot though.” He added eventually.
“I wouldn't care if you were.”
“And I don't care if you’re a whore.” Another long silence. “That's pretty good.” He said, turning his head to get a better view of her work, which she quickly covered with her forearms, leaning forward and looking at him intently.
“That's nice Mister Glutton. Now kindly fuck off.”
“Only if you come with me.” He grinned.
“I'm not going anywhere with you. Yr shirt is stupid, your bag is filthy, your eyebrows are crooked, and you hang out with a guy that chews rocks. No matter what people call me, I am not that low.”
“I guess I'll just sit here then.” He replied, utterly unphased.
“You can't buy me.” Her eyes met his and her jaw was set firmly.
“Yeah, I figured. Otherwise yu would have mentioned money, or at least dropped a hint, when I asked you to come with me.” Penny blinked and looked at him with surprise and the tiniest glimmer of respect. His smile was a bit entitled.
Part 3
Penny grunted unhappily as she followed Justin through the woods. He gallantly tried to clear brush away as it crossed their path, but branches still grasped at her delicate lacy shirt, thorny vines still scratched her pale thighs below her shorts. The cast on her left hand made walking with her bag on one shoulder unwieldy, but she refused to use both straps, and she refused Justin's offer to carry it for her.
Eventually he called back to her, a retardedly triumphant look on his face as he stood on a wide fallen log. Penny rolled her eyes, and picked her way closer, looking around for a place somehow less filthy and ...outdoorsy ….than the rest. Justin laid his backpack down and reached for hers.
“What are you doing?” She snapped, holding onto her own bag in one hand tightly.
“I'm going to put your bag on mine so it wont get so dirty.” He said, half laughing at her. She glared at him, feeling hotness rise to her cheeks, but let it go. He laid it down carefully as she watched, wondering what his bag could possibly be covered in, hidden to the naked eye.
He pulled out his wallet, the little bag of weed, and sat on the log, rolling a joint. She stood for a bit, stubbornly, expecting him to argue with her, to press her to sit down. But he didn't. So she sat silently.
The woods weren't at all as pretty as in the movies. Everything was overgrown, and the few paths they had passed led to places that hobos and worse liked to frequent. Penny kept her knees pressed stiffly together, her cast pressed into her midrift, and tried to outline her science report in her head while she waited.
Justin laughed, licking the paper, sealing the joint clumsily. “What?” she glared.
“You’re just funny. You look really uptight. Or wound up. What are you thinking about?” He placed the joint in his lips, lit it, and then rolled it, so that it caught fire evenly.
“Uh huh.”
“It's true.”
“I believe you. That's the fucked up part. Don't you ever do anything just for yourself?”
“I'm about to smoke a joint aren't I?”
“Yeah, but because you want to piss Siggy off.”
She didn't answer. For a kid in the slow learner's program, Justin had moments of disconcerting insight. He puffed on the joint heavily, tilting his head as he studied her. She felt cowed, and then angry.
“You gonna bogart that or what?”
“Oh little miss trust fund knows the word Bogart. Is that on the SATs or you learn that with the hours of research you did after I asked you to come smoke?” He teased. With a growl she leaned forward, reaching with her good hand for the joint, but he easily held it away. With his other hand on her head there wasn't much she could do. She sat back for a moment, looking at him darkly.
“What happened to your hand.” He said, puffing once again and finally handing her the spliff. She took it and put it to her lips, inhaling.
“I told you.”
“You told me you woke up with it.”

“And that's what happened.”
“You expect me to believe that? That's stupider than Mica saying he can read people's minds and shit.”
“Believe what you want.” She puffed on the joint some more, and then handed it back.
“That's what I like about you Penny, you don't give a shit what people think. Except that asshole Siggy. What happened with you two?” His eyes were piercing as they gazed at her. Despite the heat she shivered.
“ I guess he just got cold feet or something.” She shrugged, wishing she could flex her fingers in her left hand. It felt so stiffling...she just knew if she could flex them she'd feel better.
“For someone supposed to be so smart you sure do miss a how you broke yr wrist and why the supposed love of your life started telling everyone he saw pics of you fucking three guys at once.”
“Those are doctored.” She said, not meeting his eyes. This was all old news to her. It barely stung at all....really. “Anyway, for someone who's supposed to be too stupid to take normal classes, you sure do like to try to analyze me.” Justin laughed and ground the cherry of the joint carefully into the bark of the log. Penny didn't complain.
“I try...but I fail. That's got to count for something right? I mean, you’re cute, your mom has money. You have a nice house, you get good grades. What were you doing with Siggy anyway? That guy is such a lowlife. “
“And you’re the picture of class?” She asked, sticking her right index finger into a hole in his loose fit jeans.
“Maybe not. But at least I know it. He thinks he's hot shit.”
Penny twisted her lips, watching a beetle scurry laboriously across a patch of dirt, thinking. “His parents have been together since high school. They still love each other. I just though...maybe just maybe I could be a part of that world too. You know, where you come home and things are alright.” She looked up at him, something vulnerable in her gaze. “I didn’t always have money, either. I don’t think we’re even rich. Mom just gets paid for some nondisclosure B.S once a month. Who knows how long that will last?” She shifted, looking down to see the little holes in her new shirt and the scuffs on her $200 boots.

Justin was about to reply, a stern somber look on his face, when a noise from her left made Penny turn sharply. Breath caught in her throat. Siggy and Charlie and Bear were climbing through the brush, their long sturdy clothes giving them speed. Penny stood up, but Justin stood faster, stepping in front of her and pushing her back gently.
He reached into the back band of his jeans, lifting up his shirt, and pulled out a massive gun. Penny's eyes went wide; her mouth dried. Her heart pounded and shock flooded her system.
Justin kept the gun behind his back, his finger finding the safety, flicking it off.
“Hey, I see you got yourself a piece of the penny pie! Is it on special for being so worn out? Just half a penny then, right?” Siggy called. Penny winced. It was amazing, even now, how nonchalant he seemed, pale hair against pale skin not occluding the wry yet pure seeming grin. Only Charlie, with his hooked nose and curved back, seemed to sense the danger they were now in. Penny watched him take a few steps back. Bear just laughed, enjoying Siggy's humiliating derision.
“Justin!” She said sharply but low, touching his shoulder. He pushed her back.
“Oh we seem to have ruined the mood. Too bad. Don't worry, Penny” Siggy called over Justin's shoulder. “We'll tell people it wasn't lack of experience that made it happen.“ The tendons in Justin's hand tensed, and Penny felt her mouth water with nausea. Not now, she thought. Oh god, I can't faint now...
She looked down. She was wearing her red boots. The one's Siggy had given her for Christmas. It made her feel guilty. She looked up again. Charlie was gone, Justin's hands steadily extended, one hand bracing the other. He stared down the line of sight as Siggy's skin went sheet white, and Bear began to mouth a curse. The noise exploded in her ear, and Siggy's brains shot out the back of his head, a ragged hole appearing in his forehead. It was surreal, and she saw the arc of blood and bone and brain matter fly in slow motion, her eyes able to follow each spot as it landed. Siggy's knees buckled first, and his shoulders slumped. Only the force of the bullet knocking his head backward made him fall back on his legs, crumpling so unnaturally. Bear hadn't even had time to finish his first word, before the gun was turned toward him.
Penny watched from a far away place in her mind, floating above it all, noticing the smirk on Justin's face as piss and shit soiled the fat boy's pants. He could fire now, she thought absently. He's toying with him, building the fear. He's been trained...the voice seemed to come from someone else...a memory, a projection perhaps. Such a good soldier.
Justin lowered the gun and for half a second Bear began to think he might have a chance. Then shock and noise exploded again, and dark blood stained the torn knee of Bear's pants as he fell forward on his face. Penny heard everything despite the volume, she saw the motes of sand fly up as Bear's face impacted the ground. She felt the tremor in the air as his glasses shattered.

Bear began to scream, loud wild screams of a dying animal, and Penny felt a surge of arousal between her legs, up her spine and over her entire body. She didn't comprehend it, but the moment was beyond all that. She was suspended in nothingness.
“Finish it.” She said mechanically, not sure why or where the impulse came from. Justin chuckled softly, and pulled the trigger. Another blasting noise, her ears seriously ringing now, and Bear's head blew open like a watermelon, a barely recognizable mass of strewn gore atop a neck.
“Yesssss.” Justin hissed, stepping forward, lowering but not putting away the gun. “Fuck that felt good.”
He crouched over Ziggy's pale body and checked the dead boy's pocket, taking his wallet, and his jewelery too. Bear he merely kicked a few times, giggling manically. Penny undid the button of her shorts, sliding her right hand into her panties, rubbing her clit as she watched him abuse the dead boy. The moment drew on forever, each kick that reverberated through the air brought her closer to climax.

She heard a sucked in breath, so sharp and hot she lifted her eyes. Justin was staring at her, eyes dark and empty. He advanced on her like a predatory animal, and with every step he took she could have run, but she didn’t.

Her hands fell to her hips, and brushed her shorts down, revealing the transparent and thin panties underneath, the small neatly trimmed strip of hair over an otherwise bald slit. The growl that echoed in her ears could only have come from him as he jerked her head back by her hair. But thought had ceased. Her kneels buckled with a moan and the toe of his blood covered boot pushed against her sternum, forcing her back against the jagged log. She could feel the sting of bark through her top, the grit of dirt beneath her splayed hands. Her legs opened automatically, her gaze fized on his, hypnotized by whatever darkness that had been unmasked.
He went to one knee, rubbing her over her underwear, feeling the hot moisture soaking through. He growled again, and his face came close to hers, breathing hotly over her face, into her parted lips. She panted, some part of her aching for release.
“You like watching people die, don't you penny?” He rasped.
She nodded wordlessly as his fingers pushed their way past the barrier and felt the slickness of her intimately. Without preamble he positioned two fingers over her entrance and pushed, forcing them into her incredibly tight hole. She gasped loudly and felt back while his hand fucked her, his other one now freely groping and squeezing and exposing her breasts, fingering her ass, all while she writhed in incoherent rapture on his hand. Blood seeped from wear his fingers tore her with his roughness, but nothing made her rouse from her moaning and cumming, again and again, twitching with each pulsating orgasm as though she were being electrocuted. Sweat covered her brow, and compounding pain and gasps made her voice hoarse, until at long last he withdrew his probing fingers and smeared them on her lips. She licked them reflexively and he grunted approval.
“Now, be a good dog and beg for my cock.” He whispered. Her eyes fluttered open, and a certain fearful lucidity in her gaze, until fear lit her eyes like a bonfire. She began to wail and scramble away, keening like an animal, much louder and shriller than Bear had managed in his dying moments. The tall boy tried to shush her, grabbing her wrists, holding her down with his knees. But she struggled violently and wildly, and was about to get away when he finally reached for his gun, and lifting it high, brought it down sharply on her temple. The crack seemed loud in the resulting silence, but maybe that was his imagination.
Justin ran dirty fingers through his hair and sighed, checking her forehead before rising. From a pocket he pulled an old cell phone, hitting speed dial. He surveyed the area while he waited for an answer. Eventually, though, it came.
“ I'm going to need some help out here. Got a mess that needs cleaning..... No, the girl is fine. " Justin pulled out the half smoked joint and relit it, rubbing the toes of his shoes into the ground to remove bits of gore as he listened to the voice on the other end. "That asswipe kid she was dating showed up, plus some other kids. I put him and his friend down. Why the fuck do you think? Yeah. One did. Yeah I'll take care of him too..... Oh Penny?" Justin glanced at his ward. "Blank as a fresh sheet of paper."

Friday, March 12, 2010

war, people

Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of
the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are
being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and
for exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every
--- Hermann Goering, Hitler’s Reich Marshall, at the Nuremberg
Trials after World War II.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Forgive them

Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.
Oscar Wilde
Irish dramatist, novelist, & poet (1854 - 1900)


A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
Oscar Wilde
Irish dramatist, novelist, & poet (1854 - 1900)

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
C. S. Lewis
English essayist & juvenile novelist (1898 - 1963)
A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.
French novelist (1873 - 1954)
A person reveals his character by nothing so clearly as the joke he resents.
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg
(1742 - 1799)