Andrew III

“Death is closer than your friends and things,” those were the last words my mother ever said to me. A few minutes later, she got into the bath and Sara found her dead an hour later.

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 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 recognize the guy from how I described him. I didn’t know who Lyle was, I didn’t care. I knew he give me what I wanted, so I asked him if I could tag along. He just stared at me with his frighteningly bright blue ocean 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. I watched as Acid chopped one of the man’s fingers off with a bolt cutter.

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, “I would say it wasn’t personal, but it is. And I’m also showing the kid something.

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. You do not have the right to play God and take another soul’s life. The pain you feel now is plain child play to the pain you felt 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. “Repent and be reborn a better person.”

Acid cut the man’s tongue off and then kicked his chest so the man fell on his back on the chair.

This was the third body I’d seen.

Lyle is tall and built, pale like a ghost but has menacing blue eyes that can freeze you just by looking at them. He used to have long slicked-back white hair to go along with his ghost of a persona. I’ve never met a man with an aura so intense that it caused me to wince.

He’s the persona 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 drown. I don’t give a fuck if she sent that text to Emily. Someone took my Sara and I won’t stop until I find the motherfucker and kill him.

But roaming the streets of Seattle every day isn’t effective, so 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 anyways. 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 doesn’t ever want to see me again. Looking back at it now, have I ever done anything good? I always did want 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 how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing great as ever, the fuck you care.”

Alyssa crosses her arms. “I’m just checking up on you. No one else wants to.”

I laugh, “I’ve always known you wanted to fuck me. You inviting me in?”

Alyssa giggles, “No, no, you lost your chance at that.”

“If I recall you pushed me away, want to redact that now?”

“I’m not talking about the 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. Don’t be afraid to let people in next time.”

Whatever.

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. 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. “By the way, who’s that kid who always wears the green parka?”

“Who? Chris? What about him?”

“I’ll like to meet him. You said he’s the only one smarter than you at school, right?”

“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 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 answered. 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 feels 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 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. 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 again and take out the gun Lyle has given me. As I point it to the junkie, 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, “die,” then shoot.

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.

I’m out of Seattle in half an hour. Lyle drops me home, “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 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.

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 a 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 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’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 control of who you are. 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. 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.

I’m not innocent anymore.

But there is someone who is.

I call Sara. She doesn’t answer. I call Sara again, but no one answered.

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.