Page 34 of Hearts Etched in Glass
Kenneth turns up his face in disgust. “Fucking hell. I’m not rubbing my dick on—” Baba interrupts him, “Shush, don’t interrupt my plan!”
Then she continues writing down her thoughts, as she conveys her monstrosity of a mind. “We hide the weapons, except for yours. You’ll have yours on you and at the ready. As they are losing their minds on drugs, fuck with them! It will be utterly hilarious and poetic. For they have never been truly fucked with. They have never lost control of anything, let alone their own state of mind. As they are roaming around envisioning Odin-knows-what, we will be torturing them with sounds, makeshift ghosts, stab them a little here and stab them a little there. They will be in such a vulnerablestate!” Then she lets out the most devious laugh, as I nearly piss myself.
I hope to God I never get on this woman’s bad side.
“You are fucking mental,” Kenneth says, as he takes a drag of his cigarette.
“And you’re so lucky that I’myourBaba. So, respect your elders. After they have been running around, losing their minds and a little bit of blood. The drugs will start to metabolize faster since their fight-or-flight will have kicked in from panicking. Thus, you have your fun with them. Rich prick dies by Marcus.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe strangling him and Tilly lobs off bellend’s dick. Or!” She peers over to look at Tilly who has fired the shotgun off, several times now. “Tell her to shove the shotgun up bellend’s arsehole and ‘boom’.”
I can’t help but rub my backside at the thought.
“Sounds like a good plan, then I’ll clean it all up at the end with the twins.” Kenneth stomps out his cigarette and then throws it in the bin. He points at Baba and I, “I’ll gather supplies, you start cooking.”
Biscuit comes over to the table. “Oi! We cooking something? May I try it?”
Baba gives a wide-toothed grin.
“No! No, you do not want to try this recipe,” I warn as he looks confused, but I shout, “Risotto!” Then he takes the hint and turns his face up in disgust.
Looking back to Baba I ask, “You think we can give them chocolate cupcakes, or cookies but mix some of the horses’ shit in there?”
Her fingers twiddle together at the maniacal plan. “Oh, I love the way you think. I have just the thing to mask the scent!”
Chapter 18: Tilly
She’s Long Gone,Black Keys
The night is brisk, but my heart is warm.
We are returning home from a nice dinner out before tomorrow’s ‘big day’.
Peering up to my right, I see my dear Marcus, his sun-kissed skin, brown eyes and onyx hair shining under the streetlights of Lockham. On my other side is my darling Bobby, his platinum-white hair, ivory skin and stark icy-blue eyes glance down at me. Even though I am rather tall, they still tower over me. It makes me feel safe, and their devotion makes me feel loved.
We march in unison down the cobbled street. A sight to behold, as our steps echo. Individuals wave as we pass by, and others hurry into their homes. Looping my arms through theirs, I squeeze them tightly to me.
“I must say, I am so happy.” I can feel my smile stretching from ear to ear.
Marcus leans down and kisses the top of my head, as Bobby cocks a half smile. “I’m glad, darling.”
“What’s wrong? You seem glum?” Rubbing the back of his hand with my fingertips, I peer at Bobby longingly.
“Just a bit worried for tomorrow and I’m pissed my plan didn’t work.” Bobby kicks a rock and it goes skipping down the cobblestone street.
I furrow my brow, as Marcus chuckles to himself.
“You know I am getting rather tired of being left out of everything or being the last to bloody know!” I exclaim, pinching the back of his hand.
“He bombed the wrong car.” Marcus flexes his jaw, staring down the road, trying to maintain composure.
“What?” I nearly shout, but remember we are in public.
“And a house.” Then Marcus releases a bellowing laugh.
Narrowing my eyes at Bobby, I await his explanation. He exhales in frustration as we turn onto the street for his town home.
“I.” He stops taking a second to think, assessing my reaction. “I bombed the correct town house, you bellend, but the vehicle wasn’t his. It was the neighbor’s, so I went down to the dealer and had to get him a new vehicle. Kenneth already chewed my ass for it. Please don’t rip it off as well.”
We enter the building, hanging up our coats as the macabre decor eases my spirit. I’m not sure, but I prefer the dark, forest green walls and black interior to white, plain living rooms and bright establishments. Maybe I have grown sick of the indoctrination my mother poured into me. I finally am beginning to recognize the things I actually admire.
