Statistics
Posted in experimental novel, regret, statistics
Her sobs go unnoticed in the dark alley. Blood-soaked, hurt and half-naked, 17-year old Katie struggles to keep hold of her sanity while the rain vainly tries to wash away her guilt.
She knew this was all her fault.
Marco's body lay meters away from where Katie slumped. He was quiet. He looked nothing like the horrible beast that just a couple of hours ago ravaged her over and over again behind a dumpster in that dimly lit alley on Third Street. Now, the beast is dead.
Unable to walk, she stared at the .45 caliber pistol still clutched tightly in her shaking hand, the same gun that her drug dealer Marco used to rape her at gunpoint. It was the same weapon that killed the beast.
She had only been using for 5 months. Marco was a college drop out who gave her crystal meth at her high school soiree. Her eventual addiction made her steal money from her parents, or take off with various things that she would sell off for drugs like jewelry or small appliances. A week ago her last deal with Marco went fatally south. He gave her more meth and she promised to pay him back. The next day her dad caught her stealing his cellphone and she ended up running away.
When Marco found out she couldn't pay him back, he went ballistic. He caught up with Katie and demanded that she pay him back somehow. They argued, and Katie made a run for it. She got cornered in a dark alley. Then the monster reared its ugly head. It dragged her behind one of the dumpsters just as the rain started. The storm raged on even as the monster continued to devour Katie. No one could hear her scream.
Her ordeal only ended when she got hold of the gun. They fought for it and she accidentally pulled the trigger. Next thing she knew the monster that was Marco fell with a sickening thud, blood all over his chest. Katie was terrified. She didn't know what to do.
As the police sirens drew nearer, Katie put the gun to her mouth. Her last thoughts were about regret and retribution. She closed her eyes and it was all over.
The hand that held the gun fell lifelessly to the ground. She had just become another statistic.
She knew this was all her fault.
Marco's body lay meters away from where Katie slumped. He was quiet. He looked nothing like the horrible beast that just a couple of hours ago ravaged her over and over again behind a dumpster in that dimly lit alley on Third Street. Now, the beast is dead.
Unable to walk, she stared at the .45 caliber pistol still clutched tightly in her shaking hand, the same gun that her drug dealer Marco used to rape her at gunpoint. It was the same weapon that killed the beast.
She had only been using for 5 months. Marco was a college drop out who gave her crystal meth at her high school soiree. Her eventual addiction made her steal money from her parents, or take off with various things that she would sell off for drugs like jewelry or small appliances. A week ago her last deal with Marco went fatally south. He gave her more meth and she promised to pay him back. The next day her dad caught her stealing his cellphone and she ended up running away.
When Marco found out she couldn't pay him back, he went ballistic. He caught up with Katie and demanded that she pay him back somehow. They argued, and Katie made a run for it. She got cornered in a dark alley. Then the monster reared its ugly head. It dragged her behind one of the dumpsters just as the rain started. The storm raged on even as the monster continued to devour Katie. No one could hear her scream.
Her ordeal only ended when she got hold of the gun. They fought for it and she accidentally pulled the trigger. Next thing she knew the monster that was Marco fell with a sickening thud, blood all over his chest. Katie was terrified. She didn't know what to do.
As the police sirens drew nearer, Katie put the gun to her mouth. Her last thoughts were about regret and retribution. She closed her eyes and it was all over.
The hand that held the gun fell lifelessly to the ground. She had just become another statistic.
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