Black Grass

“God damn sonovabitch cunt muffin, cum bucket, beer drinking, Nas Car watching, hill billy fuck face…..” I muttered as I walked down the streets of down town Albuquerque. If you’re wondering why I’m currently whispering profanity’s to myself while walking alone in the bad part of Albuquerque, it’s all because of one white trash red neck named Dillon. I know, I know. Young ladies like me shouldn’t be using those kinds of words. But when you have a guy like Dillon for a step father (or step fucker as I have come to call him) you need to use this kind of language to get through his thick head.

It all started when I ate the last pop tart. Big mistake on my part. Now you’re wondering, “How could something as simple as a pop tart force a seventeen year old girl to walk the streets of down town Albuquerque?” Well Dillon loves pop tarts, especially with beer. So when he found out that I had eaten the last one, shit hit the fan. He had come close to smacking me; I could see it in his eyes. But he didn’t, and instead settled on sending me to go to the fucking store at 1:00 in the god damn morning. And did I mention that we live in THE BAD PART OF TOWN? A place where drug dealers, gang bangers, and hookers all do whatever they want? Well that’s where I am.

Honestly, I really don’t care about walking around alone. Sure I’m a little scared, but I’m used to it. The main reason for my anger is the fact that, brace yourself for I am about to sound like a major brat, I didn’t get to go to a concert. But not just any concert, a Green Day concert. And not only was Green Day preforming, but so was My Chemical Romance. Two great bands in one night. But of alas, Step Fucker just had to spit on my dreams and light them on fire. I never ask for anything! And I’m not just saying that because I didn’t get what I wanted, I literally don’t ask for anything. Not even for simple things like tooth paste. (Don’t worry my breath doesn’t smell that bad.)

As I walked into the store I tried my best to forget about my problems. I headed straight for the pop tarts on the other side of the small store. No one was in the store, which was normal considering the time, but I for some reason I couldn’t find anyone who worked there. I was expecting to see at least one person mopping the floors or something. I ignored the emptiness and snatched a box of pop tarts, strawberry to be specific.

I walked to the checkout isle and waited for someone to come to the register. No one came.

“Hello? Is anyone here? Hellllooo?”

No one came so I just threw some money on the counter and headed for the door. The moment my fingers touched the door, I heard a low moan. I slowly turned around and yelled, “Who’s there? You okay?”

The only answer I got was another moan. I started to walk towards what I assumed was the source of the moaning. I was expecting to find someone hurt, so I got out my phone just in case I needed to call 911.

I turned the corner and entered the canned food isle and saw a man on the floor. Water from the bucket he had been using to mop (so there was someone mopping!) covered the floor and the mop was lying next to his body. As I got closer I noticed the water was tinted red so I scrambled to his side on the floor.

“Oh my god are you okay?”

He moaned again though this time it sounded slightly….. Angry? Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

Out of nowhere the man bolted up and grabbed my shoulders. I quickly scrambled back with a scream. “What the fuck?!?”

The man was now on his feet and started to come at me. He ran like he was drunk so he stumbled a lot and that gave me time to get to my feet and sprint down the aisle. He gave out frustrated groan as he ran after me. He was stumbling quite a bit so I knocked over some racks of food as I ran. When I looked back he was on the floor, desperately trying to get to his feet. I took the time to look at his face.

He was a shade of gray and multiple gashes on his body, his hair seemed to be falling out, and his cheeks were sunken in. His eyes are what scared me the most. They were a strange yellow color and they were blood shot. He seemed to be on some kind of drug.

I ran out of the store and kept on running all the way to my small house. The moment I barged through the door, still sweating and breathing heavily, Dillon was on my ass.

“Did you get the pop tarts?” At first I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, but then I remembered why I was at the store in the first place. I had dropped the pop tarts when the guy attacked me, because seriously I was not thinking about fucking pop tarts at that moment.

“I-I d-dropped them. This guy- h-he attacked me!”

I was shaking furiously and could barely speak. For a moment I thought I saw concern on Dillon’s face, but then he just said, “So you didn’t get the pop tarts?”

Even though this is Dillon, I still would have though he would have at least blinked when I told him I had almost been killed by a crazy druggie. But no, all he cared about was the damn pop tarts.

Without a word, I walked past him and into my room. Calmly, I quickly packed a bag with clothes and things I needed. I walked back out of my room and headed straight for the “rainy day jar” that was really beer money and didn’t say a word as I grabbed the whole jar and dumped its contents into my bag. Dillon was shocked. He didn’t yell or scream, he just stood there sputtering and trying to make sense of my actions. Before he could come to his senses and kick the bejesus out of me, I walked out the door.

The calm persona I had put on for that whole act whore off and I ran. I didn’t know where I was going; all I knew was that I had to leave. I didn’t care that I was in a dangerous place, or that the druggie could come and attack me at any moment. I just wanted to leave.

Pretty soon I slowed down to a walk and sat down at a small, crappy fountain. The paint was chipping and there was more trash in it than pennies. Suddenly the song Early Sunsets over Monroeville came to mind, probably because of the whole penny thing.

I looked into the water and because of the street lamps I could see my reflection. I guess it has come time for you to learn what I look like. My black hair is about shoulder length. My eyes are a washed up blue and I’m lanky and a pretty average height. Okay I’m super short. Just shut up.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I felt something rub against my leg. I jumped a bit but calmed down when I saw a two big green eyes staring up at me. The little black cat was by far the most adorable thing I had ever seen. The thing that got my eye was that on its chest there was a white spot that looked a hell of a lot like the bat man symbol.

“Here kitty, kitty.” Sure enough the cat jumped onto my lap and rubbed its head against me. I checked for a collar and didn’t find one. “I hereby call you Bat Man,” I said as I lifted the cat into the air Lion King style. When I lifted Bat Man up I saw that he was indeed a man, or boy I should say because he looks very young.

I suddenly felt very tired so I carefully set Bat Man in my duffle bag. I put him on some comfy clothes and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. I walked around for a while until I found a place that mocked me. In front of me was the Sunshine Theater. The concert I had mentioned was over and nothing remained except for the two tour buses, one for Green Day and one for MCR. For a second I let my inner fan girl come out and thought about sneaking on one of the buses. That’s what all the girls do in fan fictions, right? The get on the bus, tell the band about how crappy their life is, get asked to go on tour (even though most of them are not old enough to go without parent permission, something I will never understand), and then fall in love with one of the band members.

I shook that thought away and was about to walk away when I saw that someone had left the back door to the theater open. Without thinking I walked in and started to wander around. I’ve been to Sunshine but I never imagined it to be so scary when it’s empty. I walked around for a while until I saw what seemed to be a dressing room. Surprisingly it wasn’t locked so I waltz on in there and didn’t hesitate to claim the small sofa that was sitting there. I set the duffle bag carefully on the floor next to the sofa and started to drift to sleep. But before I let out a small, weak, “Happy eighteenth birthday Chernobyl.”