Day 22

The coffee she’d prepared was only partially brewed. No matter. It was something with weight to it and she knew it’d hurt. That’s all she wanted. Something that hurt.

“MOTHERFUCKER,” she screamed. She hardly ever raised her voice, much less cussed, and abhorred physical violence of any kind. Yet there she was, slamming a pot of hot coffee all over the suit’s face.

This isn’t me, the real Jenn cried. But she was tiny at that moment, hiding behind an enraged heart, her voice fainter than its pulse. Jenn watched herself. Her hands did things she never thought they’d do, horrifying things. But the presence wouldn’t relent until the suit was nothing but dead.

And upon taking in the damage she’d done, she couldn’t help but hate herself even more. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the presence had its hold on her. “Michael,” she sighed. She wanted to curse the man who made her this way, but the energy was gone.

The steam trickled upward, a steady flow emanating from the pile of black, red glass that used to be the head suit’s face. His leg stopped twitching before Jenn even noticed it move. What little life he had left seeped out incessantly.

“We should get going,” the gruff man said towering over her, surveying her work. He startled her, yet she had no fear left. Just remorse, but for what she couldn’t say. “Come on,” he said, and dragged her by the hand through the chaos. “There’s either bodies or napalm coming our way, I ain’t gonna be here when they show.”

He dragged her past the debris, the bodies, the violence that used to be this quaint diner. The broken shards of the life she knew. She didn’t see how the rugged man did it, but the other suits weren’t moving much either. Were they still alive? Or was this man a monster as well, just like her?

“Where are we going?” And he looked at her, as if he didn’t understand this ‘we’ person she was talking about.

Hrmph, was the noise he made. “You owe me a cup of coffee, I suppose.” They left the diner. The man hotwired poor dead Marco’s rusty sedan. Jenn wouldn’t realize until much later that he took away her chance to say goodbye to it all. She’d thank him for that.

 

2/27/14 thurs. The Terrible Infant.

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