Think I read too many of Raze's prompts
May. 30th, 2014 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breezeshadow "We've been given a second chance, Charlie." She stared down with wide eyes at her hands, coated in drying blood, with a pair of snapped cuffs around her wrists -- the metal chain was rusting before our eyes, like a damn science fiction movie.
"But for what, Amy?" I gestured at the world, at nothing, at anything. I knew the arm was broken but it didn't feel or act like it, moving with ease even as I could see the bone poking out like a straw through a lid--
"I..." She looked up at me with eyes that were more red than white, and blood dried in a trail down her mouth and chin.
And we both realized we didn't know.
---
It was really hard trying to figure out how our lives got to this damn point.
Well okay, we got arrested. That was a good place to start.
Or maybe the reason we got arrested. Armed burglary? Was beating up people for their cash and valuables mugging or armed burglary? You'd think I'd remember this shit from the trial, but all I remember is my mother testifying against me. When that happens, you know you've made some dumb decisions.
I was a straight-A student, graduated college with Honors, and got myself a fancy degree. I just found it all really fucking boring, and found that Amy the Kleptomaniac was a really good fuck. Guess she was also a bad influence, but hey. I was one achievement away from being That Douche anyway.
We probably influenced each other. After all, she was just stealing random shit before I showed up and said hey, you really want to make money? You've got to steal shit properly. And next thing I know we're threatening people on the street for cash. And then they're trying to call our bluffs, and I get so pissed I'm seeing stars and breaking noses.
Didn't think I had unresolved anger issues, but guess something happened.
Amy was all for it. Guess we both had issues. Wasn't until my own mother testified against me, saying how I had been such a good boy and she was ashamed I had done all of this, that I started to feel a bit guilty about it. Caught up in the moment, you know? You get such an adrenaline high from the fight, the chase, the party afterward... I'm a sterotypical case of the stuffy good boy going wild.
We never killed anyone, but we'd gotten some hospitalized, and we were tracked down like a sloppy serial killer. And then we were given five years in prison followed by five years parole and rehabilitation and I thought damn. I'd be nearing forty.
I was all set to do my time. Did the crime, do the time, that kind of bullshit. Then I'd start over proper. Get myself a job, probably at McDonald's or some shit thanks to my record. Help Amy out too, help her get into a community college and turn her life around. She promised to get her GED in prison. We had it planned out. You've got to plan in prison or you'll go crazy.
Well I guess we went crazy anyway. It's not the buttrape fest internet commenters make it sound like, but it's confinement. Animals in a cage. And there's more corruption than you'd find inside of Nixon's back pocket. I could play the system well but I knew it wasn't going to be the turnaround I wanted. Stealing cigarettes to trade for somebody's internet pass? I'd just come out of there stealing cigarettes to trade in for a car.
So I coordinated an escape. I was there two years and been a good little prisoner, so they let me start my volunteering while still there. Still parole for five years, but a bit more freedom. And by dumb luck Amy was on the same trip. We'd be talking as much as we could, and I knew she was working to get her GED, but not as hard as she could.
We were on the highway revving up to 55 from 30 when I slipped my handcuffs free and jumped the driver. Still a pretty dangerous place to do it, but at a stop was too stupid and at 55 was suicide, so it seemed the best bet.
My cohorts helped out, and it started off well. Threw the cops out of the van, got control of it before we hit the wall and I slammed on the gas and went.
And that's when a motherfucking semi merged into our lane, not expecting a police van to be there.
We were going 30. It was speeding -- 65, 70 probably. I looked at that massive box with its warnings and thought well fuck, the world's telling me what happens when you try to cheat the--
And then the impact.
Inspired by![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dailyprompt's we've been given a second chance" prompt. I have some idea of where it's going, but will have to stew on it.
I blame your writing,raze ;)
Tschuess.
"But for what, Amy?" I gestured at the world, at nothing, at anything. I knew the arm was broken but it didn't feel or act like it, moving with ease even as I could see the bone poking out like a straw through a lid--
"I..." She looked up at me with eyes that were more red than white, and blood dried in a trail down her mouth and chin.
And we both realized we didn't know.
---
It was really hard trying to figure out how our lives got to this damn point.
Well okay, we got arrested. That was a good place to start.
Or maybe the reason we got arrested. Armed burglary? Was beating up people for their cash and valuables mugging or armed burglary? You'd think I'd remember this shit from the trial, but all I remember is my mother testifying against me. When that happens, you know you've made some dumb decisions.
I was a straight-A student, graduated college with Honors, and got myself a fancy degree. I just found it all really fucking boring, and found that Amy the Kleptomaniac was a really good fuck. Guess she was also a bad influence, but hey. I was one achievement away from being That Douche anyway.
We probably influenced each other. After all, she was just stealing random shit before I showed up and said hey, you really want to make money? You've got to steal shit properly. And next thing I know we're threatening people on the street for cash. And then they're trying to call our bluffs, and I get so pissed I'm seeing stars and breaking noses.
Didn't think I had unresolved anger issues, but guess something happened.
Amy was all for it. Guess we both had issues. Wasn't until my own mother testified against me, saying how I had been such a good boy and she was ashamed I had done all of this, that I started to feel a bit guilty about it. Caught up in the moment, you know? You get such an adrenaline high from the fight, the chase, the party afterward... I'm a sterotypical case of the stuffy good boy going wild.
We never killed anyone, but we'd gotten some hospitalized, and we were tracked down like a sloppy serial killer. And then we were given five years in prison followed by five years parole and rehabilitation and I thought damn. I'd be nearing forty.
I was all set to do my time. Did the crime, do the time, that kind of bullshit. Then I'd start over proper. Get myself a job, probably at McDonald's or some shit thanks to my record. Help Amy out too, help her get into a community college and turn her life around. She promised to get her GED in prison. We had it planned out. You've got to plan in prison or you'll go crazy.
Well I guess we went crazy anyway. It's not the buttrape fest internet commenters make it sound like, but it's confinement. Animals in a cage. And there's more corruption than you'd find inside of Nixon's back pocket. I could play the system well but I knew it wasn't going to be the turnaround I wanted. Stealing cigarettes to trade for somebody's internet pass? I'd just come out of there stealing cigarettes to trade in for a car.
So I coordinated an escape. I was there two years and been a good little prisoner, so they let me start my volunteering while still there. Still parole for five years, but a bit more freedom. And by dumb luck Amy was on the same trip. We'd be talking as much as we could, and I knew she was working to get her GED, but not as hard as she could.
We were on the highway revving up to 55 from 30 when I slipped my handcuffs free and jumped the driver. Still a pretty dangerous place to do it, but at a stop was too stupid and at 55 was suicide, so it seemed the best bet.
My cohorts helped out, and it started off well. Threw the cops out of the van, got control of it before we hit the wall and I slammed on the gas and went.
And that's when a motherfucking semi merged into our lane, not expecting a police van to be there.
We were going 30. It was speeding -- 65, 70 probably. I looked at that massive box with its warnings and thought well fuck, the world's telling me what happens when you try to cheat the--
And then the impact.
Inspired by
dailyprompt's we've been given a second chance" prompt. I have some idea of where it's going, but will have to stew on it.I blame your writing,
raze ;)Tschuess.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-31 03:20 am (UTC)That is marvelous. I happily accept blame *chuckles*
(FTR: I have reading catch-up to do on your blog; maybe once I have some doxy in me to run off the headache, I'll be more useful at the whole reading thing)
no subject
Date: 2014-05-31 03:38 am (UTC)