Luca: The ShakesMature

Word Count: 898


Joe curled up on the backseat of the car after Harley had locked us in the car. I didn’t mind too much really. I didn’t appreciate being locked up like a dangerous pet, but it would take more than that to stop me if I really wanted to get out of there. Joe just seemed to be happy to be around other people for a change, so even though they were all assholes, I did my best to just shut up and take it.

Once Joe was asleep, I reached into the foot well by his head and pulled out my bag, reaching straight for the drugs hiding at the bottom. The only needle I had left was the one I’d used when I’d tried to save Rayn. It was crusty with dried blood, and totally useless to me. I tried anyway, but nothing went into the needle. I cursed it, throwing it at the windshield. It bounced back at me with a quiet clatter against the glass. I laid the spoon down on the dash and banged my head down on the steering wheel. I wanted to scream at something, but that would’ve woken Joe up, and then he’d want me to talk to him again. I was done sharing and caring. I didn’t want to fucking talk anymore.

All I wanted anymore was to curl up and get high and just let the world slip away. I could die in another reality that I’d believe was really what was around me. Joe could stay with the group. He wouldn’t have to be on his own anymore, and I’d have kept my promise to look after him.

My gun was in my hands, shaking violently. I tried four or five times to screw the silencer on before I dropped it. It thudded to the floor at my feet, the barrel resting on my toes. I punched the steering wheel trying to vent my anger as quietly as I could. It was fucking impossible.

My fingers found the door lock and tugged it up. I stumbled out of the car with just my knife and left the camp behind me. I just needed to walk. We were far out enough that the only thing I had to worry about was the people in the camp, but I didn’t even really care about them. They could do whatever the fuck they liked.

It took about ten minutes for one of them to catch up with me. Footsteps fell heavily behind me, too steady to be a zombie. There was no growling to go with it, so I figured I was pretty safe. The knife was in my hand quickly enough anyway. I spun around to see the husband from the couple that was there – the couple without kids.

He had his gun out, pointed straight at me.

“Get back in the car,” he said.

“You forgot about the fact I can unlock it from the inside,” I replied flatly, lowering the knife. I wasn’t in the mood. I felt like my insides were having a riot under my skin. I needed a hit, I needed to stop thinking and caring. Being cold suited me, I didn’t like this change.

“Don’t be a smartass,” he flicked the safety off. I rolled my eyes.

“What’re you gonna do? Shoot me? Go ahead.” That took him by surprise. “I just wanted to go for a walk, and a piss. I wasn’t about to go around your tents and fucking murder you all.” I might be a killer, but aside from not trusting me just because I’m trailer trash, they hadn’t done anything that made me especially angry – they weren’t in my way, they weren’t trying to hurt anyone I cared about. Not like anyone can do that to me anymore.

“Why don’t you just get back to the car and save us both the hassle, hmm?” he didn’t lower the gun.

“You’re gonna stop me from going for a piss?” He looked like he wanted to. “I’ll piss on you, if you want, you stuck up fucking asshole,” I growled, earning myself a blow to the face. The numbness in my head was shot through with the pain for a moment. I found myself wanting to egg him on, just to feel something.

‘Til I threw up anyway. His second punch landed in my stomach and I couldn’t stop my half digested dinner from escaping me. I staggered back a couple of steps, heaving again. The man snorted a disgusted laugh. His eyes went past the gouges healing on my arm and straight to the needle marks.

“Figures. You’re no threat in this state,” he smirked, just watching as my stomach tried to turn itself inside out in an effort to be empty again.

“Fuck you,” I spat out a mouthful of bile, feeling like a breeze could knock me over.

“How long has it been since you had a hit? A day? Two?” his voice was pure venom. If I hadn’t felt so brittle, I’d have floored the bastard. Instead I just shook my head and wobbled further off into the woods, trying to get some distance between me and the inevitable. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t take my temper too long to return, and I didn’t want to get Joe kicked out if he was happy here. 

The End

55 comments about this exercise Feed