Johnny Scaletta / d6 / fin

j o h n n y .

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead

"Get rid of the bodies, then you can clock off for the night." Mr. Garner directs, shrugging off his lab coat to head home for the night. Strapped to the surgical chairs were a young couple, the young man had died from a heart attack, the woman had multiple strokes before her heart had gone into heart failure. I think back to the first time I saw a dead body I had been so disturbed, disturbed by how quickly they seemed to deteriorate, but Mr. Garner had made it very clear that I had no choice but to work for him otherwise he would hand me over to the peacekeepers for the crimes I had committed...

Coming from a family of crime, I had a lot to hide from the peacekeepers. Break-ins, stealing, drug dealing- a range of other crimes that would have had me locked up for the rest of my adolescent years hanging over my head, all in Mr. Garners manipulating hands. One wrong move and I would find myself in a cell, tortured and tormented by peacekeepers and other Capitol Officials.

That night I had carefully unstrapped the body, her body, from the chair. She had only been small, and her wrists were ringed with red. Mr. Garner had not given instruction on how to dispose of the body, had only told me to get rid of it and that if I was caught it would be on me. Carefully I had wrapped her body in a sheet, carrying it through the district under the cover of night. It had taken me hours to get through the district, carefully looking around each and every corner for the suit of white that would set off alarms through the whole district.

I had buried her in a shallow unmarked grave at the edge of the district. Then I had retreated home, tail between my legs, and cried myself to sleep.

Now as I unstrap the dead male from the chair I don't even flinch, quickly removing the restraint that was wrapped around his throat. Mr. Garner didn't talk a lot about his work, but I knew that he spent his time in his laboratory testing drugs which always ended with bodies that needed to de disposed of. That's where he came in, Johnny Scaletta, Declan Garner grunt boy. Though our relationship started with blackmail, I had come to think of the man as somewhat as a father figure in some twisted way. My father was out of the picture, and despite the threats, Mr. Garner had always ensured that I had a place to sleep, and food to eat- even on his if things it was out of convenience.

Nonchalantly I drag his body over to the plastic sheet I had laid out as Mr. Garner had begun to pack away his things for the night. "Sure thing Boss," I say with a salute as I drop the man's shoulders, he hits the ground with a deep thud. Over the years I had become more careful, more creative with the ways I disposed of the bodies. This afternoon I had already scouted the location of the burial. Not far from where I had buried the first, the very first. It was an abandoned part of town where mostly the homeless lived there, with the company of pests. It had almost been my home back before I had met Mr. Garner.

I wrap the sheet across his body before I begin to roll, concealing the deteriorating body under a sheet of material. Just as I am lifting the body into the wheelbarrow Mr. Garner bids me goodnight. "Make sure you turn off the lights before you leave," he says as a farewell, not waiting for my response before slipping from the building leaving e alone with the company of the dead.

Grunting I managed to get the body securely into the wheelbarrow, before making quick work of the deceased female. The process was much easier with her, her body was small and light, after all.

The streets are quiet, and I toss a nod at a pass buyer before pulling my baseball cap lower over my face. Over the years I had learned that it was best to not appear suspicious and most people barely gave you a second glance. Though every now and then I would get the odd look or two, or a few suspicious glances that would have me turning my gaze to the ground quickening my pace.

Tonight flowed seamlessly with no incidents or near misses. There would be no shallow graves tonight, tonight he would be tying boulders to ankles and shoving stones in pockets. A murky, waste-filled lake neighboured the abandoned part of town. Decaying trash and rotting food floated with the current- and the smell! The smell was atrocious, burning my nostrils and forcing tears to well in the corner of my eyes.

Huffing I pull my scarf up to cover my mouth and nose, before tipping the wheelbarrow over and watching the bodies tumble from its depth. I have methodically tied tight ropes around their bodies, separating them into segments with just enough room to be able to shove rock into the folds, securely so that they would not slip from the material, exposing the bodies, and the murder for the sake of medicine that had taken place.

It takes time, and patience, but when I am done, I stand back with my hands braced against my hips as the bodies disappear under the surface of the polluted water.

"Adios amigos," I say as I salute the sinking bodies with a dip of my hat.

After another moment I move to collect my wheelbarrow, pushing it back through the abandoned part of town, my eyes skimming over the place where I had buried my first body. I pause, frowning I examine the place where I imagined the girl's body to be rotting beneath the earth's surface. Cautiously I move towards the unmarked burial, abandoning my wheelbarrow in the middle of the street. Pulling down the scarf from my face I try to imagine exactly where I had disposed of her body. By now the soil had done its job, weeds, and wildflowers concealing the sins that hid beneath.

I used to wonder who she was, how she found herself in Mr. Garner's care. I used to wonder if she had a family who wondered where she had gone, or if she was alone in this world, and that perhaps no one even noticed her disappearance. Over the years it became easier, and I stopped questioning the background of those who fell into my hands.

But I ever now and then I found myself thinking of her, my first.

Sighing, I once again pull my cap deeper over my face, returning to my wheelbarrow I disappear into the streets, pushing her to the back of my mind.