How Villians Are Made
I stay alive for the one reason and it may seem petty or even downright childish. I stay alive to see my enemies fall. As a child, I was no stranger to the bullying, harassing and taunting from kids and adults. I was told at a young age that when I get older, karma would catch up to those who treated me and people like me worse than dirt, as the saying goes, the meek shall inherit the earth. I didn't believe that until I reached adulthood. Then it occured, person after person, bully after bully all succumbed to life's unexpected problems/tragedies. They either died from sicknesses from promiscuous lives, drug abuse, murder from living the fast paced lives they lived or prison. As I saw each classmate and neighborhood menace suffer from an unexpected event, the oddest thing happened. I grew sympathetic in a way. My heart went out for the families left behind to cry over the loss of a loved one. However...
I can't help but feeling relieved. Once I recieved word that another childhood problem met an unfortunate end, I would as I said before, grieve for the family but behind that saddened face would be a grin. Judge me as you wish, I would understand. I understand that I live each day for the wrong reasons, but they are MY reasons. I live to outlive those that treated me, and those like me, the small kid in the back of the class, the outcast, the child that wanted to keep his head down and keep to himself, like we were nobody. I live simply to gloat at how my life turned out in comparison to them. Maybe in a way I have become the new version of a bully.
(Was part of a challenge called: Why do you stay alive.)
Meeting with the Mistress
Meeting with the Mistress
Anthony checked his watch as he stood on the sidewalk. Blurs of light from the headlights passed by him while he waited. Carla, where the fuck are you? Dank and musty air filled his nostrils from a worn, partially melted trash can near Ignitio’s Pizzeria, their usual meet up spot. Each minute after their scheduled time that passed made him more anxious. Fuck this, he thought, Chelsea will be home from work soon, I gotta get back home. Gritting his teeth, he turned to head home, regretting the fact that he would not be able to see Carla his brown haired mistress.
“Hey,” came a voice from behind him.
“I thought you were gonna stand me up.” Just as he turned around, he met her gaze. Kind, warm and trusting eyes met his, he couldn’t resist Carla.
“Let me guess,” she replied, “you were going to go back to that boring ass Chelsea huh?”
“Meaning my wife? Not just some boring ass female ya know, a female that could clean me out financially.”
“Oh,” she replied with an eyebrow slightly raised. “Papi, you don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
Quizzically; he looked at her face. Reality sunk in as a multitude of possibilities and scenarios buzzed around his head. “Soo why would I not have to worry?”
“This morning after you went to work, I went to your house. Usually, she starts the car and lets it warm up right?”
Visions of his wife’s daily routines entered Anthony’s head, he grew anxious.
“Well,” she continued, “I remember you said she’s scared of people so I waited until she came outside and ran up to her while she when she walked to the car, what’s it called? Xena-Xeno…”
“Xenophobia.”
“Yeah, so she stumbled back in the driveway and hit her head on the stoop, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way but it did! Zero chance papi! Zero chance that you and me will be caught, it looks just like a simple...accident.”
(This was written as a challenge to begin each sentence with the letters of the Alphabet from A-Z)
Talking to “Grammy”
"But every time I ask you to see my Christmas tree, you say you can’t!"
"I know baby and I am sorry, granny is just too tired right now."
Hugging her tightly, her grandmother whispered; "run to the car now, your momma is probably worried."
Ashley nodded understandingly and looked at her grandmother. No longer a short, warm and grey haired old woman, but a short, cold and chipped grey headstone.
“See you next Christmas grammy, I love you.”
Worst Things Are Free
The worst thing I have seen was when I was stationed in Afghanistan. We were on patrol on "Ring Road". (It's called Ring Road because it is a paved road that forms a giant ring around the country.) We arrived at a small city near Kunduz where a clear disturbance was taking place. My crew dismounted our MRAP and made contact with the citizens that were in a clear uproar and as the driver, I had to remain inside in case we had to leave quickly.
What I saw bothered me for quite a few years afterward. I saw a girl, a young girl but not younger than 13 or 14 get tied to a pole in the center of this small village. My Sgt and the interpreter were speaking to a person that I assumed to be the village elder or leader about the girl. During the interaction, my Sgt got angrier than I ever seen him before and he started to shout at the elder. The interpreter and two others in my crew pushed my Sgt back to the vehicle where he remained as the interpreter tried to smooth things over with the elder.
As the interpreter and elder spoke, I saw a woman throw a rock at the tied up girl which struck her in the side of the head. Of course, the girl screamed and tried to get free of the rope but she was tied tight. I kept asking my Sgt what was going on, but he only repeated "Bullshit... just bullshit!"
Person after person kept throwing big ass rocks at this girl but we were told by our Sgt that we needed to leave them alone. The small group surrounded the girl, continously throwing rocks until she was simply...there. She was covered in blood, her hair was a mess and she was slumped there, tied to that pole.
Everyone in my MRAP were in tears. All of us were grown as men, crying. While we continued the patrol, my Sgt told me that the girl was raped by a member of a neighboring village and her parents found out. They believed that she provoked the rapist into committing the act and per their religious beliefs, the village elders decided that she should be stoned to death. Her mother was the first woman that I saw throwing the first rock. We were strickly told by our Sgt Major that we were NOT supposed to interfere in their way of life thats why we couldn't act. My command staff were concerned that interference by us or the Germans (the government agency we were attached to at the time) would cause unwanted conflict.
Basically, we stood by and watched a girl get stoned to death. That still makes me shed tears time to time.
No Good Deed
“It was an accident!” Henry yelled into the phone. “Look, I just need you over here, I’ll explain then!”
The minutes ticked away as Henry paced back and forth in his living room. The body of his wife, Alvina lying a few feet away, blood pooling out of the knife wound in her chest. He heard a car door slam outside of his home, “finally.” He sighed to himself. Henry rushed to the door and flung it open before Max could even knock.
“Dude! What the fu-” Henry snatched Max into the residence before the sentence was finished, closing the door quickly behind them. Max started again.
“Dude, seriously it’s like one thirty in the morning! What’s the accident? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m everything BUT okay. Follow me.”
With Henry at the lead, both men entered the living room. All it took was one look and Max knew what Henry meant by “Accident”.
“Jesus Christ Henry! What the fuck?” He ran to Alvina’s lifeless body and yanked the knife out of her chest. Blood splattered his clothing and the surrounding area as he tossed the blade aside. Caressing her face, he asked one question.
“How?”
Henry collapsed on a couch, the look of defeat and exhaustion plastered across his face.
“You know we’ve been fighting a lot for the past few months right? Well, I’ve been working late a lot on cases so I decided to call it a quiet night and stay home with her. We had a few drinks and she told me she wanted to come clean about something. She told me that she was seeing another guy, they were in love and she wanted a divorce. We began to argue and I plead with her to stay with me and work it out ya know” Counseling, church, whatever; I just wanted to save the marriage. She was adamant that she wanted out. She tried to walk away and I grabbed her, just to make her listen! She said I was being rough and pulled away from me. We, uh, struggled a bit and she ran into the kitchen. Uh, that’s where the knife comes in the picture. She grabbed it from the rack and we fought over it. I managed to wrestle it away from her and she started shouting about how much she hated me; how she was glad to get rid of me and this new guy was better in bed than I could ever be! I couldn’t deal with that! I just got so damn angry that I, well…..I did it. I don’t know if it was adrenaline, or fight or flight mode kicking in, but she shoved away from me, ran here and dropped.
Max stood, never breaking visual contact with Alvina’s lifeless chocolate brown eyes.
“Why call me?”
“Well, I freaked! I didn’t know what to do! I defend people in court for these types of things, but I never committed any crimes before. I’m fucked.”
“That still doesn’t answer why you called ME. Does my past have to do with your need to call me about this shit?”
Henry raised his hand in protest. “No, I called you because you are my best friend. You know what I’ve been through to in college to be a lawyer, you know what I had to go through to pass the bar. I can’t lose all that man; all the money invested in my education, I can’t go down like this.”
Max turned to his friend. “So, the fact that I did federal time has nothing to do with the phone call?”
“Well,” Henry admitted, “a little bit. I mean, what do you want me to say? Sorry? Look, I fucked up and I’m counting on my friend to help me out of it so…can you?”
Max saw the desperation in his friend’s face. {What’s done is done}. He thought. Henry was right. Max knew the long hours of study, the lack of sleep and the money Henry’s family put into his education. Additionally, after becoming a lawyer, Henry gave him free legal advice and money when he was strapped for cash. Henry always gave him more than enough to get by during the hard times. He let out a sigh.
“You got a tarp?” He asked.
Henry’s voice perked up sharply. “Uh, yeah, in the storage room. It should be hanging over a wheel barrel.”
Max stared at Henry. “Well, are you gonna get it?”
Henry remained seated. “I-I can’t. I feel drained, ah fuuuck! What have I done?” He buried his head in his hands.
“Forget it, I’ll get the tarp. You just relax a minute.” Max started toward the storage room.
“I don’t have the nerve to wrap her up, but I got enough nerve to pour us some drinks. Do you want anything?”
“Got rum?”
“Rum it is buddy!”
Max bent a corner and disappeared from view. Henry took a minute to collect his thoughts. The blood around Alvina’s motionless body congealed into a thick brownish-red paste. The smell of copper filling the air. He had to make that drink even if it’s just an attempt to busy his mind.
#
Max emerged from the storage room with a tarp. A glass of rum topped with ice awaited him on the coffee table, a few inches away from Alvina. Moving the table aside slightly, he laid the tarp down, scooped up the glass of brown liquor and gulped it down in one swig. Henry came to his side stretching the tarp, smoothing the wrinkles.
“What’s with the gloves?” Max asked.
Henry looked down at this gloved hands as if it was the first time he noticed them. “Uh, I thought about how fucked up it would be to ask you help me with this. I should lend a hand to help cover my own crime right? Besides, I’m gonna start cleaning as soon as we do…whatever we need to do here.”
Max nodded in understanding. He put the empty glass down and moved to Alvina’s head. Together, they lifted the woman’s limp form and placed her neatly on the tarp. She looked beautiful in a way, like she was peacefully asleep and floating effortlessly atop deep blue water. With two quick rotations, she was completely concealed in the crinkled blue plastic. After a bit of effort, they managed to hoist her over Max’s shoulder. A still moment passed between the two men. One of them, a man who once did good, now doing evil. The other, a man who once did evil, now trying to do something good for his friend. Max turned to leave and asked “Did she ever tell you who the guy was?”
“Nah, as soon as she told me she was cheating, a shouting match went down between us. The rest you know. So, where are you going to take her?”
“It’s best that you don’t know. In case this doesn’t go well, you at least won’t be able to tell the cops where she is. If no body is found, the most they have is a missing person. Just clean up the house, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Henry ran past Max and opened the front door. “Yeah, I get it, that’s a good idea. Head out quick though before my neighbors see you. Even though its early as shit, my neighbors are nosey. Anyways man, thanks for this…you saved my life.”
“Shut up about it, I know you’d do the same for me.” Max walked out as Henry patted him on the back; closing the door behind.
{Phase two}
Henry remained near the front door until he heard Max’s car engine revving outside then got to work. A quick sprint to the living room, being careful of the blood pool and splatter that fell from the wrapped up Alvina, he clutched the glass left by Max and took it to the dining room. Placing it near the glass that his wife drank from earlier that evening. He entered the kitchen again and dialed Max’s cell phone with the home phone. A few rings later, Max answered.
“Yeah?”
“Max is it done? Is Alvina…you know?”
“I just left your house man! What the hell?!”
“Okay! My bad man, I’m just nervous about all of this.”
“Look, the one thing that will blow this whole thing up is if you start acting weird. Once your wife’s disappearance get out the cops and the media will think you got something to do with it. Matter of fact, get off of the phone, any halfway decent police would check your phone records and see that we spoke now.”
Henry fumbled around his words. “Y-yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” He hung up quickly.
{Perfect} Henry used the phone again to make another phone call.
“Hello? Is this the East Perdition Police Department? Yes? Okay, please send an officer to my house now! I-I think a friend did something to my wife!”
Henry provided all the necessary information to the dispatcher while trying to sound distressed and worried. When the call was complete, he returned to the living room and took a seat; working to develop tears before the police’s arrival. He thought back to the events earlier in the evening. He recalled his wife calling his office asking him to come home a bit early for a talk. The sense of urgency in her voice did not sit well with him. When he got home; a steak dinner, a glass of rum and his wife Alvina, was waiting for him.
#
THREE HOURS EARLIER
The conversation was simple and brief, different from other conversations with Alvina in the past.
“Dinner looks great babe! You’ve outdid yourself it seems!” He leaned in to give her a kiss before he sat. She turned her head as his lips came close, forcing an awkward kiss on the cheek. He sat down in front of his plate. “Ooook, what’s going on?”
She remained quiet for a while and cut into her steak. She kept her focus on the meal, she couldn’t look him in the eyes just yet. “We need to talk. I feel that this way is best.”
“Very well, it’s got to be important to call me from the office.”
“Yes,” Alvina bit into a piece of steak. Waiting for her answer irritated Henry. The way she acted, refused to show affection, everything was weird. Henry’s appetite left him. He remained focused on her and the potential news she had to tell. She swallowed the bite and dabbed her lips with a paper towel. She sighed, “I want a divorce.”
Initially, the statement shot through Henry’s heart like a bullet. Although the comment was damaging indeed, the way she said it! THAT was much more painful. It was so basic, no inflection, no brief sigh or pause for dramatic purposes; just “I want a divorce.” It was as if the decision was final with no chance of debate. He remained seated and speechless. She continued.
“I’m sorry Henry. We haven’t been happy for a long time you know that. I’ve thought long and hard about this and I’ve made my decision. I’ve asked you to go to counseling several times and you refused. I wanted children but you said no, not until you’ve gotten your firm off the ground. The firm’s been up and running for three years! I’m unhappy Henry. I know you can see that. I plan on moving out this weekend.”
Henry’s mouth went dry. He could tell that her hunger dissipated as well. They sat for a while, their eyes locked, speaking without speaking. His eyes cried “I love you’ to Alvina.” Her eyes responded “I know, but the love is no longer mutual.” She broke the standoff when she stood and collected her plate.
“Is that it?” Henry asked through parched lips. His voice sounded like two concrete slabs rubbed against one another.
“Yes, the paperwork is upstairs, I’ll get them in a few minutes.” She walked passed him into the kitchen. {She’s so calm about this. Why? Maybe I can salvage this.} He followed her.
“So I can’t talk you out of this? You mentioned counseling, I’m okay with that!”
“It’s too late for that. I’m done. Please let’s not make this harder for either of us.” She placed her plate down near the sink.
“It’s never too late! We aren’t divorced yet! We can bounce back from this. I get it, you’re unhappy…I can change! You want a kid right? Let’s go upstairs and make one right now!”
“That’s too late too.” She replied. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she has been known to do before she would cry. She pressed her eyes closed tightly. Henry stopped in his tracks.
“Too late?” His voice sounded small, almost infantile in Alvina’s ears. “What do you mean too late?”
“It’s not important. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Henry blocked her path, his eyes turning red from frustration.
“Fuck that!” He yelled, “what do you mean too late? I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what the deal is!”
Alvina had reached her peak. Not long before now, she received unsettling news, dealing with her failing marriage and now to have the man who would soon be her ex-husband refuse to give her peace built into a storm in her chest. She decided that her unsettling news, will now be THEIR unsettling news.
“I’M PREGNANT OKAY?! PREGNANT! I wanted this whole situation to be as painless as possible for us but you clearly won’t leave me alone! There it is…PREGNANT!”
Henry wasn’t sure when the exact moment his knees buckled under him but they did. He braced himself against the counter. {Pregnant}
“No.” She spoke again, in an attempt to answer his follow up question before he asked. “It’s not yours. We thought it would be better not to let you know till after the divorce. We thought the news right now would be too soon. I knew it would hurt you too much and add insult to the injury. This whole situation has exhausted me.”
Henry’s vision got blurry. Tears filled his eyes but would not shed. “We? Who’s the other in…we?”
She looked down. Alvina was physically spent from the dump of emotions. She placed a hand over her eyes; unable to look at Henry. She let out a small word. “Max.”
The world stopped for Henry. {My wife sleeping with my best friend? Now pregnant?} As if by remote control; his hand took a knife from the block and lunged at her. Alvina looked up a few seconds before the blade plunged into her deep. The blade pierced her skin easier than Henry expected, embedding itself several inches into her chest. With nearly superhuman strength she shoved Henry away and fled the kitchen only to collapse in the living room. The shock of it all overwhelmed Henry. Minutes passed as he stared dumbfounded at Alvina. {What do I do now? Your life is over! All because this her…and MAX!} A moment of clarity washed over him. {If Max wants her, he can damn sure have her.} He picked up his cell phone and made the call, knowing his old buddy Max would come.
The memories of the incident flooded his mind. They spun around in an endless loop making him angry all over again. He forced his eyes shut using sheer will to make the images disappear before the police came to his home. Hastily, he entered the kitchen and poured a miniature drop of dish liquid on his index finger. He rubbed his index and thumb finger together, smearing the chemicals. Sirens could be heard in the distance, growing louder as each second passed. He placed his fingers into the corners of his eyes, aggravating his tear ducts. {Fake tears in a flash!} Within moments, the police were knocking on his door.
#
THE INTERVIEW
“Okay Mr. Cunningham, we have officers in the city looking for Maxwell Small’s vehicle. Can you go over what took place with me once more? I don’t want to leave any details out.”
Henry spoke, wiping his reddened eyes. “Excuse me…this whole thing has hit me harder than anything I ever experienced before.” He peeked through his fingers a bit, hoping that the detective would buy his act. “Yes, um, as I stated before, my wife Alvina called me at work and asked me to come home a bit early. We’ve been going through a rough patch in our marriage you see? Well, a few weeks ago she told me that she cheated on me with my best friend Max. Anyway, she just had dinner with him at our home and ended the affair. She wanted me to come home because apparently Max was still there and was being aggressive toward her. I could hear him in the background then. I’ll admit it detective, I was upset as well. I mean, why would she ask this man over to our home for dinner then end their relationship? It was bound to be dangerous! I hauled ass home and saw Max’s truck leaving the driveway. I ran into the house and saw blood in the living room there. I searched the place for Alvina but with no luck. That’s when I figured he must’ve taken her with him.”
Detective Jordan wrote away on his notepad, asking questions without looking up.” Why did it take so long to contact the police?”
Henry was more than ready to answer the question. After all, he practiced his response since Max left. “Yeah, I know sir. The shock of all this, the fact that I didn’t know what happened and of course, the time it took to look around the house for her contributed to the delay. Uh, I also called Max…twice. I called him to find out if Alvina was with him and to find out what he had done, then I called a bit after that to tell him that I was going to call the police if he did not bring her back. He just cursed at me and hung up. I’m more than willing to give you my cell phone and phone records to verify the calls.”
Nearby, a patrol officer carefully placed a blood covered knife into a plastic bag. Henry didn’t expect Max to pull the knife from Alvina’s chest, but that action served as a stroke of luck for him. {That fucker’s prints are all over that thing! HA!} He leaned back in his sofa, fighting his urge to smile as he looked around at his handiwork. {The knife, covered in prints. The bloodied prints on the storage room door when he got the tarp, the glass of rum Max drank out of placed on the table near Henry’s own plate of untouched food. Perfect! I nearly fucked up when I forgot to take the gloves off before Max came back with the tarp. He nearly had me! I guess being a lawyer does have its perks…I’m so used to coming up with logical answers on the spot. If it wasn’t for that skill, I might not have convinced him that I wore the shit to clean up}
Jordan asked a few more trivial questions, collected the remaining evidence and began to leave the home. “Mr Cunningham, we’ve got everything we need for now. Of course, you know we will need you to be available for any other questions or statements. We appreciate your help and we will keep you informed about the case with your wife.”
Henry shook the detective’s hand. “Thank you detective. I plan to cooperate with you to the fullest.” After the door closed behind the last officer out, he entered the living room once more and scanned the scene. Alvina’s blood pool had soaked into the carpet, thick and black.
{Leave me with Max huh? Well, you got what you wanted love…you got what you wanted.}
END
Me.
I'm taking a total shot in the dark. What I gather so far is that you are a fan of poetry (read some of your work.) You are either a high school student or in college. (Based off of profile pic and your poem about changing class seats.) Your not over twenty one (just a guess.) You like goth (totally prejudice I know.) Thats all I got.