askook 'snake' maskwa. district nine. fin.

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 18, 2024 19:50:20 GMT -5	askook 'snake' maskwa. district nine. fin. Sept 6, 2021 21:52:55 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2021 21:52:55 GMT -5 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊 '𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄' 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐖𝐀 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄
	Last Edit: Sept 6, 2021 23:07:32 GMT -5 by Deleted

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askook 'snake' maskwa. district nine. fin. Sept 6, 2021 22:13:11 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2021 22:13:11 GMT -5

I didn't mean to murder him.

Hell, I wouldn't even consider that murder. But they did. The newspaper. The Peacekeepers. The people whispering in the streets. Whoever left that manila envelope on my doorstep. Everyone else called it murder. But, it was an accident. I was sixteen and somehow managed to avoid living a life of crime in nine - why would I have thrown that all away?

Let me go back to the beginning. It was just over a year ago and it was late. I normally tried to avoid going outside after dark, the district gets dangerous after dark. But, I thought I would be fine. I was just going from my friends house back home, maybe two blocks. Then suddenly, I felt followed. I felt a pair of eyes down the back of my neck.

And, I began to feel a sense of anxiety and dread fill me. I needed to get to where I was going quickly. I made a sharp turn down an alleyway. Normally I stuck to the main, better lit roads, but this was a shortcut. Or, I thought it was a shortcut. In my anxious state, I wasn't thinking clearly and I made a mistake. That was the first mistake that night.

I turned early. The alley I turned into went to a dead end - the brick back of a building was at the end of the alley. If I just went down one more I would have been there. But, I turned too early. And as I heard footsteps echo behind me, I knew I was right. Someone was definitely following me.

As I turned around, I saw a guy about ten years older than me, dark clothes and a hood up. This guy was bad news clearly. My brain told my feet to run, I was a quick guy. But, my feet didn't listen. It was like my shoes were filled with cement all of a sudden. Instead, I tried to talk my way out of it. The second mistake I made that night.

"C'mon man, I don't want any trouble. Let me just go."

"Empty your pockets."

"Fuck off."

My third mistake I made that day, but the one I'm the proudest of. I told a mugger to fuck off. In hindsight, I should have just tossed him my empty wallet and ran. But, I guess I was feeling like a smart ass. Honestly, I thought I was sort of funny. Unfortunately, he didn't find it very amusing. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over holding my stomach. He had punched my gut.

But, I wasn't going to just take that. I punched him in the face then I noticed it. He was reaching for a knife in his waistband. I needed to do something. I might have ended up dead if I didn't do something, anything. It was too late to talk or even call for help. In an instant, I put all my strength into tackling him.

We were both on the ground, fighting over his knife. I got a deep cut down my forearm, but I ended up grabbing the knife. My body acted before my mind could stop it. In a mixture of fear and adrenaline, I plunged the knife into his stomach. And then I did it again. And again. And again.

I must have stabbed him six or seven times, though it all seems like a blur to me even now. I was shaking as I darted out of the alleyway and into the correct one. I sprinted home, hood up and head down, knife in my jacket pocket. Thankfully, when I got home my parents were still working. I stripped down and threw all of my clothing into the wood stove, knowing I'd never get all of the blood out anyway.

I took the knife and cleaned it off, then hid it under my pillow. I'd figure out what to do with it later. I took a shower, watching as that guys blood and my own washed down the drain in a swirl of red. It hadn't hit me yet. The guy was dead or dying out there. I didn't even bother getting him help. But, what could I have done?

I ended up shoving the knife and my shoes - knowing they would be way too hard to burn - and wrapped them up in an old blanket. I then put them in a box with a bunch of junk piled on top. After that, I tapped up the box and threw it under my bed. Hoping that would somehow make it all disappear. But someone wasn't planning on letting me forget. Someone knew what had happened.

The next day when I got home from school, there was a manila envelope waiting on my doorstep. In big letters was my name "ASKOOK". Most people just called me my nickname, "snake". Even some teachers did - mainly because my actual name was too hard for them to say and they didn't give enough of a fuck to learn how to pronounce it. I took the envelope and went right into my room, ignoring my mom as she asked how my day at school went.

As soon as I opened the envelope and realised what was inside, I dropped it. The first was todays newspapers. On the front page was an announcement stating that Peacekeepers were looking into a murder from the previous day. There were no suspects, thank god. But, that wasn't it. There were photographs. Photographs of the man laying on the ground, blood pooling around him. Photographs of me on top of him, stabbing him. Pictures of me running from the scene.

Someone had seen it all happen, and this was them letting me know they had seen. And finally, there was a baggie of drugs with an address written on it. I knew what this meant, I deliver the drugs for some gang, or they go to the Peacekeepers with everything. So, I did it. Later that night, knife with me, I went to the address and delivered the drugs. When I went back into my bedroom, the window was open and on my bed was a wad of cash.

I ended up putting the manila envelope in the box with the knife I used for the murder and the shoes. Putting all of the evidence in one place seemed stupid, but it was supposed to be temporary. Yet, there it is. It still sits under my bed. And, I still receive letters from that anonymous source with instructions. But, the pay is good. And, now other gangs hire me for odd work, I've sort of built up a reputation.

My family doesn't know about any of this, of course. My parents would be so disappointed in me. I told my parents I ended up getting caught on some barbed wire and that's how my arm got fucked up, but the large scare reminds me of the truth. My parents are too nice, too sweet, too kind and loving for me to break their hearts.

My parents both work in factories. My dad does metalworking. And my mom is an on-call nurse for a factory, you never know when someone might accidentally lose part of a finger. Neither of them make a ton of money, but we have what we need. A little two bedroom house and we have enough for food and bills. And now, I help out when I can.

My parents thing I've been doing labor and other odd jobs for my cash. They aren't exactly wrong. I've told them I've done lawn mowing, fixing fences, tutoring, painting walls, building tables, and anything else. Really I've been laundering money, burying evidence, and delivering drugs. Sometimes I want to stop, but I know that whoever took those photos has been keeping tabs on me. And I know that they have evidence of everything I've done since.

Last Edit: Sept 6, 2021 23:07:15 GMT -5 by Deleted

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 18, 2024 19:50:20 GMT -5	askook 'snake' maskwa. district nine. fin. Sept 6, 2021 23:08:21 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2021 23:08:21 GMT -5 ripred_bot

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	“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”