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Putting my joint out against the stone wall, I slip the roach into my pocket and stalk down the sidewalk. The chill night air bites my skin despite the thick hoodie, and I shove my hands in my pockets as I hasten in the general direction of the market.
It’s well past three in the morning, so no pet stores will be open to get what I need. Luckily, Larry’z Lizardz isn’t just a pet store. You can’t tell from its looks, but they’ve been a front for the club for years now.
I just have to hope someone there knows a good present for a bird.
CHAPTER FIVE
LILLITH
“No!” Mommy wails, her face twisted in agony as she falls to her knees. She reaches out with fumbling hands, taking my daddy’s lifeless face in her hands.
I twirl the flower between my fingers, watching as the blood drip, drip, drips from the petals onto the pavement.
Bang! Bang!
Mommy’s body slumps over Daddy, two bright red spots blossoming from her shoulder and chest. I stand frozen in place, watching her crisp white blouse soak up the crimson like a sponge.
“Mommy!” I scream, dropping the flower as I stumble over my light-up sneakers trying to get to her.
“Lillith… “ she moans, reaching out to my face with the last of her strength. “My beautiful flower.” Her thumb brushes my cheek, leaving a streak of something warm and sticky. Then her hand falls to the pavement, her bright blue eyes wide and lifeless.
“Mommy, wake up!” I cry, brushing clumps of matted hair away from her pretty face. A trickle of blood falls from the side and onto the pavement. I watch it drip, deaf to the sound of a gun cocking above my head.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll be with your parents real soon.”
I can’t move, can’t take my eyes off the slow drip… drip… drip…
“NO!” I gasp, sitting straight up with a jolt. I clutch my necklace in my palm, the contents of my bedroom coming into focus as my pupils adjust to the morning light.
I fucking hate that nightmare.
Groaning, I swing my legs over the bed and begin my usual trudge to the bathroom. A furious tapping sounds on my window, and I nearly piss myself.
“Damn, someone’s hungry this morning,” I grumble, rubbing my sleep-crusted eyes as I step over to the window. I’m about to open it when I notice a large plastic bag on the sill. I can’t make out what’s inside, so I crouch down, putting my nose within inches of it. And that’s when I notice it.
The bag is wriggling.
With an ear-piercing screech, I stumble backward, my heart trying to beat its way out of my rib cage.
Taptaptap! Taptaptap!
Herb pecks the window like a madman, trying with all his might to get to the sack of slimy, wriggling earthworms. I think I’m going to be sick.
I race to the bathroom, barely having enough time to curl around the toilet before my stomach empties into the bowl. Every time I close my eyes, I see the bag of worms, and another dry heave wracks my body.
Taptaptap! Taptaptap!
“Stop it, Herb!” I howl, slamming my palm on the tile. “Please, stop it!”
He does for a moment, and then I hear it again. That relentless, gut-churning tapping. I pull my body from the floor and stumble back into the bedroom, opting to leave the lights off.
Taptaptap! Taptaptap!
With a sigh, I step over to the window again. Now that I’m past the initial shock of finding a bag of worms in my room, the sight is much less terrifying. After all, it’s not like they can escape the bag.
“Sorry, Herb,” I mutter, pinching the top of the bag between my thumb and forefinger. “No worms for you.”
As soon as I lift the bag, I notice a small note underneath. I pick it up with trembling fingers, and my heart lodges in my throat.
