Andrew III
February 14th, 2013
I used to hang around this guy who was six or seven years older than me when I was 11. He was a pretty chill dude that let me smoke weed with him. I used to think that was the coolest shit ever. Pretty sure that’s how I got introduced to it in the first place.
His name was Joel and was the town's drug dealer. We weren’t too close but I was shadowing him and learning things from him. I wanted to be part of everything. Joel was shot and killed in a deal gone wrong with a junkie. I was in his car when it happened and it was the second dead body I ever have seen.
That’s how I got introduced to Lyle. He came to the town after learning what had happened. He tracked me down to find out who the killer was. After I told him, I asked if I could come along. I didn’t really know who Lyle was. He just stared at me and smirked. It didn’t take long to find who killed Joel. Lyle took me inside the man’s house with Acid while Acid tied him to a chair. I watched as Acid chopped of the man’s fingers off with bolt cutters.
Lyle turned to me and asked, “Do you want to leave?”
“No,” I told him.
He just laughed and told Acid to chop the toes off next. All I can remember were the screams and blood. Lyle walked up to the man and said, “It’s nothing personal, just showing the kid something.”
Acid lobbed the tongue next and Lyle pulled me out of the house to give me a piece of paper. It was his number. I was in.
The news never mentioned the story.
Lyle is tall and built. He’s pale like a ghost and his eyes can freeze you just by looking at them. He had long hair but now he has it short which makes him look older than he is. It’s been a couple of months since I last saw him. He’s the one who found Sara for me and now I owe him.
He tells me that he found Sara near starvation in The Jungle nearly dead. He says that he tried to get her to eat and stay alive for a couple of days so she can get better and avoid the hospital. I know he’s lying. He likes to play games with people, he likes to manipulate them and bend them to his will. I know he was trying to make Sara a slave to his will.
I can’t do anything about it, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters right now.
Lyle has me sitting in a dining table at a house in Madison Park. It’s unconventional and I believe this is the favor I owe him. The house we’re in belongs to one of his partners. I don’t quite understand what I’m doing here. I already know he’s a very powerful man and doesn’t need to show me he has powerful friends too. There’s something different going on. The possibility of my being killed isn’t far off the table.
The man who owns the house is a businessman. There’s plenty of photos of him and his family. He has two sons and a hot fucking trophy of a wife. Lyle and he are talking about their last golfing game that doesn’t interest me. I try my best to tune our boring fucking conversation. Maybe Lyle is trying to give me more power and finally have me move up in rank. No, that’s too simple.
Music starts playing and both Lyle and the man start singing. The way they act with each other, I can tell they’re close friends. I haven’t seen this side of Lyle either. It’s all business with him. He’s actually laughing and enjoying himself and resembles a human being.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, the music gets louder and Lyle shoves a fork through the guy's throat. He never raised his voice or showed a hint of anger. Lyle takes the kitchen knife on the table and slashes the throat open. The guy just looks at me with shock as he gasps trying to breath.
Lyle stands up and makes a phone call. I assume to Acid. “I got a clean up for you to do. It’s at Michael’s. Yeah, Yeah. It’s fine.” He says then turns to me. “Come on, we got errands to run.”
We leave the house without a word. I want to asks what the fuck that was about but I know Lyle expects me to know better. This was a message for me. I get it now. He’s on to me.
“Y’know what you have you do,” Lyle tells me when he stops by one of the run-down houses in Roxhill. We’re collecting debt again but I’m doing it with Lyle this time. It’ll be my first time with him.
As I stare into the small little house it reminds me of my own back in Darkwood. A little Mexican kid is playing outside by himself. When I get out of the car he stares at me and I ignore him as I walk up to the front door.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“Jes?” a chubby Mexican woman answers the door.
“I’m here to collect,” I tell her. I hate doing this, but I have to. I owe it to Lyle.
“Oh, jes jes. Un moment plis,” the woman says with a smile as she turns around to go back inside the house. She comes back a minute after with a white envelope. “It’s last paymint, jes?”
I take the money out of the envelope and count it. Lyle told me the amount she should give me, and it’s all there. This lady isn’t like everyone else that thinks they can be late. “Yeah, It’s the last. Goodbye,” I tell her as I walk back to the car.
“That went well,” he says as I hand him the money. “Next one, probably not so much,” he chuckles.
He takes me to the western side in Beacon Hill, near the Jungle. Fuck. I know this one isn’t gonna go well. The house we stop in front of is even smaller than the previous one. I get out and there is barely any noise outside. It’s eerie and I don’t like it. The whole thing is uncanny.
When I knock on the badly damaged door, no one answers. So I knock again, harder, but no one answers. I sigh and scan the area to see if anyone is around. I catch Lyle smirking. I take a step back and kick the door as hard as I can. It falls quite easily and I go inside the shitty house.
I’m immediately blown back by the rancid smell and pungent taste that fills my mouth. I take off my hooded sweatshirt and wrap it around my nose and mouth as fast as I can. God, It smells like rotting corpses.
I travel down the house and making sure not to touch anything in case there is something dead here and I’m left dealing with the cops. Everything inside the house is a mess, it’s dirtier than mine. There’s vomit and weird stains everywhere, even the walls. Who the fuck can live like this? I kick down a door where I assume the master bedroom is. Right, only junkies can live like this.
He stares at me and doesn’t say anything.
“I’m here to collect.”
The junkie lays on his bed and rests his head on the headboard. His needle is beside him and there’s a bunch of bottles around. The junkie shakes his head and tells me he doesn't have anything. He sighs and closes his eyes.
It reminds me that there’s so much more to this world than what we did in Darkwood. There are people like this, people who are so gone and fucked up that this is their reality. People just like Elizabeth.
I sigh again and take out my gun. As I point it to the junkie, he stares at me with dead eyes. This guy doesn’t fucking care, so why should I?
I sigh one more time, “I’m sorry,” then shoot.
I don’t feel a thing. I thought I was going to feel something, but no. There’s is nothing but silence and an emptiness that surrounds me. I just killed someone and I don’t feel anything.
I’m out of Seattle in a half hour. Lyle drops me home, “You did good today, Kid.”
I watch him drive off and look at my hands. I didn’t touch a thing inside the house, I should be good. There isn’t a way for anyone to trace it back to me. Nobody even knows I have a gun, and I make sure I wipe it clean and hide it where it'll be hard to find. The person who died was a nobody, he shouldn’t be missed. I should be safe.
When I went inside my house I find my dad passed out from drinking again. The bathroom window stares back at me and it’s smug. What the fuck is even going on even more. Sara left because she doesn’t feel safe here anymore. Emily’s gone and fucking hates me now. The only girl I possibly ever emotionally liked fucking hates me. I just killed a guy. My dad doesn’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care.
What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Andrew? You were never like this. You used to care about being successful and using everything you know to better the world. You wanted to explore medicine and be the first person to figure out how to cure disease. That was your goal. Now, look at you. All you care about is getting by. You like to hurt others and like to fight. You don’t care about anyone anymore and you see yourself as the only one in the world that matters.
Mom would be fucking disappointed. Sara’s fucking disappointed. It’s why she fucking moved in with Grace. She can’t fucking stand being in a fucked-up home anymore. She can’t stand being around you anymore you fucking pathetic piece of shit.
When Joel died, that was your fault. You could’ve gone to the deal for him. you saw it coming. Don't fucking lie to yourself when you tell yourself you didn’t. When Elizabeth died, that was your fault. She relied on you so much for the fucking cocaine that you took advantage of that. You thought it would be funny and wondered how it felt to steal someone’s girl. When she found out she was pregnant, that was the last straw so she fucking killed herself because of you. You introduced her to Lyle. You let Lyle take your sister hostage. You let Lyle own you.
When Mom died. THAT WAS YOUR FAULT. You could’ve been a better son. You could’ve picked up on the subtle clues she left behind and helped her. You could’ve told dad. You could have told her you loved her. You could have made a million memories and now it’s all just wasted breath.
You are garbage.
You have nothing good to offer the world anymore. Just go fucking die already. Nobody needs you anymore.
I’m not innocent anymore.
But there is someone who is.
I call Sara. She doesn’t answer. I call Sara again, no one answers.
I sigh and lay down on my bed. So I text her. Then I call Emily, but she has me blocked. I haven’t seen or heard of Emily since the moment she was rushed to the hospital. I heard she moved to New York City with her sister and mom. It’s for the better I think. I don’t deserve to be happy anymore. But still, that week was the happiest I have ever been in a while.
I want that again.
But fuck that shit.
I’m not some bitch motherfucker who’s gonna start being sad over dumb shit like people and my own emotions. It’s not who I am. So fucking what I have to do shit for Lyle and that I don’t have any friends anymore. I’m the motherfucking greatest and the world will soon see that.
I’m unstoppable and the world will recognize that.
Because I’m motherfucking Andrew Mera.
But today I killed someone and I didn’t feel anything.