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She’s not even here. Still,
I can’t let it go. Girl. Man. Mostly
dead or no, a predator is a predator.
You can’t let it roam unshackled.
“What did you do to Ashante?”
I demand, stomping right up
in front of her and grabbing
her by her hair. I expect her
to jerk away, swing at me, or
something. But she just sits
there like a mannequin.
I didn’t do anything to her,
but she did plenty for me.
ZERO REMORSE
Zero guilt. Zero emotion.
She really is evil, or at
least what she smoked
this afternoon is. I can’t
take it. I want her to hurt.
I swing a stiff backhand,
slap her face. Hard.
She animates suddenly
and we are on the floor.
She is stronger than I thought.
Her right hand connects.
Fingernails bite into my
cheek, sink through my skin.
All the hate and pain and fear
I’ve ever felt in my life ball
up into one vicious biting,
