And Happy Endings Are Promised Only In Fairy Tales
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***
It's been a month since I moved away from my parents. I'm slowly settling into the flat that one of the dealers helped me rent. Far from being called cosy, it's a one-bedroom in a neighbourhood like this.
The neighbourhood doesn't bother me, though. Firstly, I'm a guy, not a girl, so nobody sends slanted glances after my arse, thank God. Secondly, I'm quite large, which clearly demonstrates that if I get jumped on, it can be fraught. Third, people know who I am.
- Yo, Bart. Anything? - and I'm not talking about my sports background.
The hardest part is the budget. For some damn reason, school teaches me all kinds of crap, but not how to operate in society. So I go from one extreme to the other. I save money like a bum, then I buy expensive and tasty-looking meat to fry it in oil, without spices or anything like that.
Yeah, cooking is the second problem. Most days I go from convenience foods to bichpaks. But sometimes you want to eat something homemade and..... Let's just say after I cook, I don't want to eat homemade anymore.
I burned two pots trying to boil pasta-- that's how much I suck at cooking.
- Bart, can you take this to Washington, white, okay?
- No problem.
- By the way, Lucy's in that room. She's a dumb motherfucker who's just so ready to jump on any dick. - the dealer gave me a stupid smile. - So, are you staying with us tonight?
Sometimes I spend the night in the joint. And no, not to get laid. I still have a bit of a head on my shoulders, so I'm not looking for a venus cure. At least not until I'm at least 25.
- Got it?
Of course, I still visit Gina from time to time. As her sole dealer, I feel safe letting my mate inside.
- Not only that. - I got Chinese food from behind my back in addition to the usual.
- Oh, yeah? To what do I owe the pleasure?
- I delivered a white man today, so I'm allowed to splurge.
- Come in, then. - Gina let me in with a smile.
.....
I guess in the time that my relationship with Gina has lasted. How long has it lasted? I can't remember... It doesn't matter. In that indefinite time, I should have developed some feelings for Gina, however ....
- ...
- ...
- And he says your mum!
- *very natural crowd laughter, recorded back in the forties* ...
If we're not shagging or getting stoned, it's only when the telly's on that there isn't complete silence between us.
- Ha!
- What's so funny? It's a stupid joke.
- No, I was just thinking. That this is the healthiest relationship I've ever had in my life. - or at least honest.
- Yeah, a relationship. We don't have one, I fuck you for weed. - Gina rolled her eyes and slumped back on the couch. - Speaking of her...
.....
- Ahem! Deeper. Tear my hole, Bart. - Gina pulled her face away from the pillow.
- Haa. Damn, why do you have such a nice arse? I just want to put it between your buns.
- Don't you dare. I like to take it in-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!
- Kggh!
After I'd finished, I fell off Gina. Who was breathing heavily, straight into the pillow as her legs continued to shake, as did her voluminous arse.
- Oops...
- Wh-what's wrong? - With cheeks not ruddy red from her orgasm, a panting Gina turned to me.
- Well, remember when you told me to rip...?
- If you bleed me, I'll stab you for sure! - Without a second thought, Gina rushed to check on her baby girl.
- No. I didn't mean torn. - and then I pointed to my condom, which was definitely burst.
- You don't want to imagine what I'd do to you if I got knocked up. - Gina pulled a knife out from under her pillow and stared at me with a blank stare.
- Marry you? - I assumed the worst.
- Dead people don't get married, Bart.
I'm telling you, it's a healthy relationship.
-The next day-
The morning began as usual. I woke up in my hut. I had breakfast. The milk was a little sour.
- I'd heard somewhere that it was healthier that way... - but I drank it anyway.
And no, it wasn't because I was too lazy to wait and then go grocery shopping at the nearest shop, a few blocks away.....
- Ugh! I want to die.
It's just that for today, I originally had a plan to shout curses at the white mate....
.....
Due to a sudden and unwarranted bout of diarrhoea, I got to the brothel much later than usual and...
- What happened here?
I was met with an unexpected sight. The building in which the brothel was located had been sealed off at the entrance with police tape. Apparently, the tenants of the block of flats had been thrown out into the street and a crowd had gathered.
- Cops finally busted the joint. I heard there was some gunfire.
What's that bullshit?
Am I not awake yet?
Yesterday everything was fine, they even offered me a fuck-
- Honourable citizens. - Springfield police would be very grateful if you could help us with the murder of a local woman. - murdered someone?! - A simple, innocent little girl named Lucy Quimby.
Quimby? That name sounds familiar.
- If you have any information, please report it to one of the uniformed officers. Remember, it's your moral obligation.
Does the last name matter so much if I know the name?! Did the girl I was offered to fuck yesterday pass away?!
- Holy shit. - What if she died at the same time I was there?
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck!
FUCK!
.....
Tight-lipped, unwilling to accept reality, I went to relax at Gina's place. Unfortunately, her door was locked, and it looked like she wasn't home.
- Probably at another new job...
Not knowing where to go or what to do, I stupidly walked down the wall, sitting down by Gina's door.
What had happened at the brothel in the last 24 hours?
Some chick died, but of what?
An overdose?
Did the wrong guy get on top of her?
Maybe the shooting had something to do with it?
And if it wasn't, then who was shot?
The supplier?
A permanent resident?
- Hell, what if--
They turn the police on me?
I had nothing to do with any of this, but--
- Fuck! Oh, fuck! - I jumped at the realisation.
I'm definitely going to be blamed!
Just like with Sherry, no one will listen to me!
What's more, there's already a precedent for my beastly treatment of the girl. The tabloids will say I just went one step further.
- No! No! No! No! - fear made me ruffle my hair.
I'm definitely going to jail this time!
Even without proof!
Even if it's for drugs, I'm sure I'll go to jail!
- ...I could use a smoke right now. - I responded to my own remark with a slap.
But what should I do?
Who do I go to?
- Maybe? - my eyes fell on the door to Gina's flat.
That's right, she's been in jail. More than once. She's probably got a lawyer, too, and she knows something about the system that an outsider like me doesn't.
- And really, who else am I gonna go to?
.....
Every second of the wait was both a torture and a blessing. Torture because my head kept throwing up all sorts of scenarios that made me want to jump out the window right now.
- Hoo... Haaah.
And a blessing because after a few hours, I managed to calm down a bit. Which when talking to a girl like Gina, who goes for a knife at any displeasure, is a must.
- ... I wonder if I could have helped her.
At some point, the mind came to thoughts of a dead girl .... Lucy, I think? It's so strange that the person I might have met yesterday is dead today. What's more, I could have fucked her like a free prostitute... But in the end, apart from her name and the fact that she's dead, I don't know anything about her.
It's really weird, isn't it?
I probably shouldn't have called her 'wench.' I don't know what kind of person she was or how she got where she is. Yeah, the 'free prostitute' thing was redundant, too.
- God, what is wrong with me? - Have I always been so rude and insensitive? A man is dead and all I care about is my own skin.
Have I changed so much? Or have I always been like this? Please, someone tell me?
- Haa. Who am I talking to? - Who cares about a loser like me? Especially when I've sunk so low.
- Bart? - When I looked up, I saw Gina coming back with her bags. - It's good you're here. We need to talk.
.....
- I was supposed to start a cycle today...
- A cycle of what?
- Haa. Would the phrase 'I'm late' make more sense?