One Hundred and Twenty Nine

A peek into the past – Rameez:

I sigh heavily, trying to wrap my head around everything Venom had just told me, asking him the things he said to make sure I’ve understood correctly.

“You mean my father didn’t go to the bank?” I ask, a deep frown wrinkling my forehead.

“Yes,” replies Venom.

“So when you’ll got him, he didn’t have the money you’ll thought he would have?”

“Yes.”

“You were supposed to have used that money to pay for the package Scar and I collected last night?”

“Yes.”

“But because you’ll didn’t get the money, Scar had to kill the man?”

“Yes.”

“There’s drugs in there,” I say, looking at the brown paper wrapped package on the table between us.

“Yes.”

“And I have to sell them?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t supposed to, was I? If my dad had withdrawn the sum he intended to, you would have taken that and left him. That money would have then being used to pay for this,” I say, gesturing to the package. “But because my dad didn’t withdraw money, you’ll took him, and are now using him to get what you’ll want from me?”

“Yes.”

Pathetic. 

“And what you’ll want, is for me to sell the contents of this package, and then return with the money?”

“Yes.”

“So what do I get?”

“You get to see your father.”

I laugh a hollow, humourless laugh.

“See my father???” I say, my tone contemptuous. “You mean see him f****** die?”

Spitting a string of foul words his way, I walk out, my blood boiling.

*****

Base 2 is located within the graffiti covered walls of an abandoned railway tunnel.

I glance over my shoulder at the small shack to the side of the entrance of the tunnel which I just walked out from, praying Venom doesn’t follow me out.

The door remains closed but I see Scar watching me from the side window.

Quickly I return my gaze ahead, kicking at the overgrown weeds.

Disturbing thoughts fill my head, my heart silently wishing for terrible things.

If only a train could come rushing past and crush me beneath its steel wheels, puncturing my lungs, flattening my heart, leaving me dead; for death seems ever so inviting. How much better would it be to actually die, than to live a life of death..

I slip on my earphones, turn up the volume, and continue walking.

My legs grow tired, but still, I walk; trying to clear my mind, craving a sense of peace.

Is this it? Is this really happening? Is this what my life has become?

I zone out, lost in a realm of troubled illusions, wishing that things could be different.

The tunnel comes to an end, the daylight shining through, making the railway tracks glimmer dully.

I stop and stare ahead.

My eyes follow a yellow bird flying high in the clear blue sky, and a desperate desire to be as free as it is settles within me.

I am trapped.

Inside me, something has broken..

I feel it every time I wake up, the heaviness of tiny pieces trying to fit together within me, weighing me down, leaving me with no desire to get up.

I feel it when the wind the blows, whistling a merry tune, rustling the uneasiness inside me.

I feel it when the rains falls from the clouds, washing away everything besides my pain.

I feel it at night, when the sky is dark and the owls are hooting, an emptiness so heavy, so filling, so torturous.

My soul remains alive yet all it craves is death, for a part of me has already died.

I am trapped within myself, my mind a horrifying dungeon, my heart a bleeding wound.

I am trapped, and only I have the ability to free myself.

*****

3 days later:

The pungent smell of dust, paint, and urine, combined, makes my head spin.

I focus on the faint yellow light in the distance, trying to keep the contents in my stomach down.

Usually when I hear The light at the end of the tunnel, a spark of hope ignites inside my heart.

But not this time.

At the end of this tunnel, is hell.

I stumble feeling the thick wad of notes inside my sock rub against my leg.

Quickly regaining my balance, I stop.

“All you have to do is turn around and run,” my mind whispers.

But I cannot do that.

I will not do that, because behind that battered wooden door, where that gleam of light shines, as dull as my hope, is my father.

A face appears at the window, watching me silently, carefully.

I begin walking again, forward, towards the little shack.

On reaching the door, I stop.

I breathe in deeply, inhaling the fetid air, trying to slow my racing heart. I clench and unclench my fists, force myself to relax my jaw, trying to calm down.

For a moment it almost works..

But then, the door opens.

Fang grinning face appears in front of me.

“Eh kid, you come!” he exclaims, blocking my view of the inside.

A strangled cry reaches my ears.

I use all my strength to push Fang aside and move past him.

The sight that meets my eyes makes my heart stop just as quickly as it started racing.

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15 thoughts on “One Hundred and Twenty Nine

  1. Loving the way this is written but HATING how cruel these people are to poor Meez! I have a good mind to throw THEM under a train !! Look at me turning all violent and losing patience now lol . Just shows how realistic your writing makes it all seem❤

    Liked by 1 person

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