Andrew III
“Death is closer than your friends and things,” those were the last words my mother ever said to me.
It’s that ghost that claws the back of my neck, inch by inch, day by day.
-
The second dead body I laid my eyes on was Joel. We weren’t close but was the town’s drug dealer before me. I met him when I was 11 and always let me smoke weed with him. I thought he was the coolest guy ever and I wanted to be just like him. I wanted to be a part of everything he did. He died when I was fourteen, killed by some junkie in a drug deal gone wrong right in front of me.
That’s how I got introduced to Lyle.
He came to Darkwood after learning what happened just to come to talk to me. All he wanted to know was who did it. Lyle recognized the guy from how I described him. I didn’t know who Lyle was, I didn’t care. I knew he could give me what I wanted, so I asked him if I could tag along. He just stared at me eyes and smirked.
Lyle and Acid took me to the junkie’s house and I watched as Acid subdued the guy and tied him to a chair. Acid chopped one of the guy’s fingers off with a bolt cutter. It shocked me. It excited me.
Lyle turned to me and asked, “Do you want to leave?”
“No, I told him.
He just laughed and told Acid to chop off the toes next. I can still hear the scream and see the blood. Lyle walked up to him and grabbed him by his hair, “Sorry, but I have to put on a show for the kid."
The man screamed and begged for Acid to stop. No one listened. Lyle went on a long monologue then.
“Men are not born good or evil. Men are cultivated to one side or the other through their experience of being alive. Their pain chips away at one’s soul and through time the soul starts to repair itself. One such soul could see the absurdity of life as a neverending struggle and then start to resent it. Another may find beauty in such pain, in how it can make someone feel so alive. The path you chose in your life, Claud, made you resentful. Your soul is lost, full of hate and it drives you to hurt others in your selfish desire. The pain you feel now is the manifestation of the pain you hid from your entire life, is it not? I want you to remember this pain for the next few minutes while you contemplate all of the mistakes you have made,” then Lyle grabbed the man’s tongue. The scream screeched ears. “You are not beauty.”
Acid cut the man’s tongue off and then kicked his chest, knocking him down to the bloody floor.
This was the third body I’d seen.
-
Lyle is tall and skinny, pale like a ghost, and has menacing glacier eyes that can freeze you just by looking at them. He keeps his hair short and in a fade. His face is defined and sharp, his jaw being strong. I've never seen him dressed with anything that didn't build a suit. I’ve never met a man with an aura so intense that it had actual pressure.
He’s the person I’ve asked to help me look for Sara. He has the resources and connections around the state to find her. If she ran away, he’ll find her. If she was kidnapped, he’ll find her.
I refuse to believe that she’s gone. She has to be stronger than our mom. She has to. She came out to me, she smiled, she laughed. She was happy. I don’t understand what happened. I thought I was enough to keep her happy. Fuck.
I don’t give a fuck if they found her shoes. I don’t give a fuck if they found her phone. Sara isn’t dead. She didn’t jump off the fucking pier and drowned. I don’t give a fuck if she sent that text to Emily. She didn't kill herself. Someone took my Sara and I won’t stop until I find the motherfucker and kill him.
But there's so much I can do as I started to work for Lyle full-time. Maybe I’ll find her inside one of the random junkie’s houses.
That’s all I’m good for anyway. I don’t need school, I don’t need friends. The only good things in my life were ripped away from me. Sara’s gone, and Emily blocked me on everything. Looking back at it now, have I ever done anything good? I always did what I wanted and I still do. I’m a fucking piece of shit but that’s always has been me. So why the fuck am I having these pussy ass negative thoughts.
This isn’t me.
I’m better than that.
If the world wants to reject me then I’ll just have rejected it back. Fuck it. I don’t care anymore.
-
My first deal of the day is at Alyssa Ibarra’s house. The fucking enigma. “You do coke now?” I ask her when she opens the front door to her house.
“So you’re still alive? Everyone thinks you dropped out, that true?”
“The fuck does that matter? Hand over the money.”
“I don’t actually want drugs, Andrew. I just want to see you.”
“The fuck you care?"
Alyssa crosses her arms. “I’m just checking up on you. No one else wants to.”
I laugh, “You inviting me in? I'm good for a quick fuck.”
Alyssa giggles, “No, no, you lost your chance at that.”
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“If I recall you pushed me away, want to redact that now?”
“I’m not talking about that night, Andrew,” she smiles but for reason, it’s so infectious. “I guess you were too high to even remember.”
She’s right. I don’t remember. “So you ain't buying and you ain't fucking me, what the do you want then?”
“I just told you,” she leans on her door frame. “Any luck on Sara? I know you’re still looking. I hope you find her, I really liked her.”
“Weirdo. I’m leaving then. Thanks for wasting my time.”
Alyssa smiles again, “Bye.”
Whatever.
I finish my rounds as I drive down to Seattle to meet with Lyle.
“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.
“Jes?” a chubby Mexican woman answers the door.
“I’m here to collect,” I tell her. I hate doing this, but I have to. It's part of my initiation.
“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 later 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 who 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. “By the way, who’s that kid who always wears the green parka? He's the one you gave the vial to, right?"”
“Who? Chris? What about him?”
“I’d like to meet him. Acid said you told him he does research?”
“Yeah sure, but the dude’s a fucking autist; always says the weirdest shit.”
“I’m used to weird.”
He takes me to the western side of Beacon Hill, near the Jungle. Fuck. I've been dreading this one. I hope it goes the way I hope.
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 fucked.
I knock on the badly damaged door, but 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 make sure not to touch anything in case there is something dead here and I’m left leaving my prints. Everything inside the house is a mess, it’s dirtier than mine. There’s vomit and weird stains everywhere, even on 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. Then 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 and take out the gun Lyle has given me. As I point it to the addict. He stares at me with dead eyes. I’ve always known this day would come. It’s the fate of everyone who decides to work with Lyle. This is who I wanted to be, this is who I’ll become. Fuck this world, I hate it. This guy doesn’t fucking care, so why should I?
I sigh one more time, “Bitch,” and pull the trigger.
I don’t feel a thing. I thought I was going to feel something, but no. There is nothing but silence and an emptiness that surrounds me. I just killed someone and I don’t feel anything.
The rest of the pickups go better. Lyle drops me off where I parked. “You did well 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.
I don't remember how I got home. I don't remember driving. 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’s dead, I’m delusional to think otherwise. Emily’s gone and fucking hates me now. Everyone fucking hates me. I just killed a guy. My dad doesn’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care. Nobody fucking cares about me.
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 people with Mom's sickness. 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 fuck anything that moves because it's better to not think about how the shit person you are. You don't hate the world. You hate yourself.
Mom would be fucking disappointed. Sara was fucking disappointed. It’s why she fucking killed herself. 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 have warned 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 drugs and you took advantage of that. You thought it would be funny and wondered how it felt to steal someone’s girl. Do you think she was telling you the truth when she told you she was pregnant? She fucking killed herself because of you. You introduced her to Lyle. You let Lyle take control of who you are. You let Lyle own you. Don't you think it's time to admit what you've been thinking?
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. But no, you hated her because of how she treated you. You hated her because she didn’t see you as her son. After all, she would yell at you and hit you. You couldn’t see the pain past her actions. That’s why you let her die.
You are garbage.
You have nothing good to offer the world anymore. Just go fucking die already. Nobody needs you anymore.
You haven't been innocent for a long time now.
But there is someone who is.
I call Sara. She doesn’t answer. I call Sara again, but no one answers.
I sigh and lay down on my bed. So I text her. 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, the time I spent with her 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.