Jan 09 2009
The wrong place, the wrong time
This is a short story, its violent, and not for the squeamish. You have been warned!
It’s another beautiful day. I’m visiting my mother at her home in a little town about an hour away from where I live. She’s getting older these days, and ever since dad died last summer she’s been a bit lonely. So, being the faithful son I am, I come out here to this Podunk little place about once a month.
As I pull up to the quaint little house on the cul-de-sac I see construction going on and people are working on the street. They seem to be repairing something or other and the sharp stink of asphalt lies over the street like a cloud. I shake my head and smile at the familiar city smell as I walk to my mother’s house.
I knock on the door and let my self in, as always she’s sitting in her favorite stuffed recliner. With her feet up, laid back, a book in one hand, and a drink in the other she’s the picture of comfort. She looks up from her book, and jumps to her feet to hug me. We sit down and talk about life, and what she’s doing these days. We reminisce about my childhood, life in the country, and what she’s doing these days. Somehow, the time just flies by, and when I look out the window and realize its late afternoon I tell my mother that its time I got going.
I head out to my car, and hear a commotion down the street. A woman is screaming and crying as she staggers into the street. I run over along with everyone else on the street to see if I can help, and what happened. The girl is sobbing, she’s covered in blood, and looks like she was beaten and she’s shaking with fear and pain. She begins to stammer out a story of a strange guy with long hair who broke into her house, beat, and raped her. I start to feel a strange vibe from some of the other guys crowded around her. As I watch, their faces twist to resemble demons with the need for revenge, and their need to lash out.
Suddenly the woman sees me. I’m standing with my back to the sun, so all she sees is my long hair, and a silhouette, but that doesn’t matter. She shrieks and points “THAT’S HIM!” I begin to back away, and too late realize I should have run. Hands seize my arms, and I’m bodily lifted into the air. I try to lash out with fists, and feet, but my hands and legs are caught and held. The people drag and carry me back to the center of the mob, fists strike me, boots crush me, and they yell like devils the entire time.
They drag me to the construction area, and throw me down to the ground. I crumple, and lie there trying to catch my breath. I hear a click sound, it doesn’t mean anything until I am flipped onto my back and held there. I see a man, in one hand he holds a blow torch, and in the other he holds a switch blade. “You like raping women do ya boy?” I desperately try to back away as he edges closer. The men holding me down chuckle darkly, “IT WASN’T ME I DIDN’T DO IT” I scream, then I scream again only much louder.
Strangely enough, the cutting doesn’t hurt at first, but when he tosses the bloody bits onto my chest I completely lose control, the pain is excruciating as he uses the blow torch to stop the bleeding. From a distance I hear the roar of the crowd, like a distant ocean. I can barely understand anything through the ringing in my ears, I think I hear my mother shrieking to let her through, but I could just be imagining it.
Suddenly I’m floating, I don’t know how, but I feel like I’m lighter then air “maybe I’m dying?” I think, and I look for a bright light. Suddenly I stop floating, and I have been dropped into a hole. It’s about 4 feet wide, and 7 feet deep, my mind notes this subconsciously, as all the pain returns tenfold. When I landed I must have broken a leg, because I can’t get to my feet. Suddenly everything goes quiet, the only thing I hear is my mother screaming and yelling, I call to her and then I see a dirty cylinder begin to obscure the sunlight out of the hole. I wonder what it is, when suddenly I hear a “THUNK” and a motor kicks in.
As the concrete begins to pour, I scream.
