Sunday, November 8, 2009

Day of the Dead

Ain't nothin' scary 'bout dyin'. All these people, they, y'know, they, they want to believe in the afterlife, like they call it. Well, ain't nothin' to worry 'bout. There ain't no afterlife. I died, and there was nothin'. I don't even 'member it, it was so, uh, nothin'. My girl, yeah, she pried my mouth open. Then the vomit got out or I woulda' choked on it. Propped me up too, my girl. Sat me up on my ass is what she did. I woulda' choked that way as well, y'know. Ain't nothin' scary 'bout dyin', like I says before. I don't 'member nothin' 'cept nothin'. Next night she raped me, my girl. She liked to wear one of them strap-ons, y'know, a big one that was made to fit her. I tried to fight her offa' me, but she stuck herself right in. Jerked off then, she did, with the strap-on and all. Damn, I says to myself, she don't care nothin' 'bout me. Kicked her out the next day, I did. Laughed and laughed and laughed. I ain't shittin' ya' either. I was poor broke then. I got me a job at one of them brothels and somethin' bad happen made me pregnant. I couldn't pay for no 'bortion, so I made myself miscarry; yeah, I did. Won't tell ya' how though, just that I did it. But when that baby come outta' me, that little fetal thing, I flush it down the toilet real fast. But before it done come outta' me, I just, uh, wanted to jump, uh, outta' my apartment winda'. I woulda' fall real nice. I went on government assistance for a little while after that, and then I was a stripper again; couldn't handle no hookin'. Made me 'member that dead thing comin' outta' me. Shit, ain't every day for the dead?

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