Church laid there thinking of the insanity that had unfolded in La Nueva Era today. It was like something out of a movie, it all seemed so surreal to
him. Like he was a character in a game, the thought made him shudder with repulsion. Now he was lying here on a cold steel floor staring around this
bunker and looking at all the weird posters someone had put up.
This has got to be a dream. Dad is dead. He's dead Churchy. What're you going to do, man? This is so messed up... wake up Church, wake up!
If he was
dreaming, Church didn't wake up. It was killing him, why the sudden guilt? It just didn't make sense. He had bullied these kids for a
while now, some even longer, so why the sudden guilt? He never felt anything before, stuffing them in lockers, bloodying their lips on the water
I am such an ass
, He thought.
Church brushed a strand of hair back from his eyes and remembered the crusted blood. He really needed a shower or something
. Not to mention he
was feeling more than a bit famished but the thought of moving around terrified him at this point, the thought of disturbing his classmates, drawing
attention to himself. In the half-light of the bunker Church gave a wayward glance toward Jackson.
He freaking hates me. I don't blame him, I hate me too. What a tool I was, if there were some way I could fix it I would, in a heartbeat. Why the
It was gnawing at him, a flesh eating virus tearing away at the soft sticky morsels of what suddenly seemed to pass as his conscience. Was it his
brush with death earlier this morning that caused it? That's it! The thought struck like lightning. Death, dad's death. The threat was gone. There was
nothing left to prove to anyone, no front to keep up. It was just Church now, his dad was a cold slab on their living room floor. Thinking about it
made him feel better, talking it over silently with himself. He had never really been able to hear himself think over the rage swirling through his
head, It was actually quite nice. Then out of the blue...
“Jack, you awake man? I... uh... I have to tell you something. Look you don't need to say anything... but I'm sorry man,” Church couldn't help it,
he started crying, sobbing he went on, “my dad is dead, you know. He bled to death on our floor. He was a prick, he deserved it. Nobody knows that,
Jackson, you know? Nobody knows what a piss-poor father he was,” Church wasn't sure if Jack was even listening but he carried on nonetheless,
“Dude, I'm freaking sorry man. To everyone, you were the only one who ever had the guts to stand up to me. I don't deserve to be here man. I'm just
dead weight, Jack.”
When church stopped speaking the silence was like to deafen him.
edit on Cpm6Thursday1720141430Thu, 05 Jun 2014 18:17:14 -05002014 by CagliostroTheGreat because: (no reason given)
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