The dry encrusted blood stretched from my eye straight down my cheek. Parallel by its kin from my nose, around the edge of my lip and down my chin. Heck I should say my skin sat in streaks across my face encrusted in blood. At least it had stopped dripping. For a while I thought, I would have bled to death.
My chest painted in the dark deep red of stale blood, one of my teeth sat upon my lap in an admixture of blood saliva sweat and cloth from my boxers. My hands were still tightly bound and had been chaffed by my struggle to get free and by natural reflex as I tried to protect my face from the blows it was receiving, not that it helped. But a drowning man still catches at a straw right?
I had fully accepted the inevitable, though I still hoped somehow a change would come. My insides felt weird from the stab wounds that had been inflicted upon them. At one point I could feel the blood draining into the bottom of my torso. But now I couldn’t tell what I feel.
Death was a guarantee at this point.
All I did was try to remain relaxed if that was possible. As I sat there I hoped for all purposes they had been gone for the day. I could not endure another episode, not at all. I thought of my life, how I would be home now just having a beer, Enjoying being alone. Yet, now I’m alone, I want to have them here in my final hours talking to me, comforting me.
I had failed them all. Failed me. It’s hard to think everything could go awry in so short a time. How did I let this happen? Did I have a choice? Could I have done things differently?
I almost chocked on my saliva just now, the coughing hurt so bad. Its like getting stabbed all over again. God I’m so thirsty! It’s unbelievable. Inside my mind I secretly hoped the shutter would slide up and rescue would come rushing in, if only to give me some dam water. Christ! Yet it never comes. At least not yet.
My eyes had grown so badly swollen, I couldn’t see shit! The light entered them in a fuzzy spotted scene, no definition no texture. They could have left the tools to free myself on the table across the room … they could have even left them at my feet it wouldn’t matter I couldn’t see it anyways I wonder if my tooth is even still sitting upon my lap? Probably had fallen on the floor by now. Ah fuck! Some water and a cigarette! Then I could give a fuck less if I died! Least I would have gotten rid of this wretched thirst and had a last bit of pleasure.
About the Creator
Stieve Fernandez
Hello am a 36 year old Jamaican national three years into my journey of creative writing
of
Keep reading
More stories from Stieve Fernandez and writers in Criminal and other communities.
Powder
“Dale wei!” a group Hispanic males moved feverishly back and forth bringing packages to a parked minivan. The location is quite remote and suggests a forested area. Nothing stands out as to the location except for the thick jungle foliage and mountainous scenery. A soft fog skirts the valley and the leaves of the plants still hold the remnants of the afternoon shower of rain that recently subsided. The earth is a deep reddish brown which hangs unto most surfaces within its reach. Mud puddles litter the immediate vicinity and makes splashes as the exhausted men scramble with huge bales upon their head or shoulders. There are a series of huts some of modest sizing others quite grand. Their roofs made from palm fronds intricately woven, designed to hold the wrath of nature at bay. The floors are raised platforms with at least eight feet between it and the ground. The space underneath seems to be for security and or storage. The huts were place with a randomness suggesting convenience as the deciding factor during construction. The occupied land has been stripped of vegetation in a wide area covering at least four acres. This creates a dramatic contrast where the bare earth coupled with the effects of human occupation stands out against the lush jungle greenery which surrounds it on all sides. Three dark green minivans sat beneath a roofed structure lacking the flooring of the other huts. There were a few men who occupied vicinity of the vans they were dressed as though they had only recently arrived to the jungle and probably would be leaving just as quickly as they’d arrive. They sported cowboy hats and leather boots, their shirts neatly pressed tucked into jeans adorned by oversized ornately engraved belt buckles. Chatting nonchalantly they each held onto glasses containing a brown liquid. Next to them was a wooden shelf which ran the length of the canopied area they shared with the vans. A radio played softly from the shelf and what appears to be the bottle from which they obtained their beverage sat next to the radio.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
For Survivors of Assault and Battery: When to Call the Police and Why It Matters
Calling the police in a moment of danger can be one of the most important decisions a person makes. Although it doesn't solve every problem and may not be the right choice in every situation, when safety is at risk, involving law enforcement can be the most effective way to prevent further harm and create the legal foundation needed for restraining orders, criminal charges, and civil claims.
By jason escoto5 days ago in Criminal
YNW Melly’s Witness Tampering Charges Dropped Ahead Of Trial
YNW Melly’s had a long and arduous road. Does he deserve it? That’s for a jury to decide January of 2027. Meanwhile, he scored a huge legal win when one of his charges got dropped. Related to witness tampering where he allegedly told his girlfriend not to participate in the case, he got the charge dropped ahead of the upcoming trial.
By Skyler Saunders2 days ago in Criminal
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.