Maze Rat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
it's just a weird story. so if u're pissed off at something and wanna take your mind off that thing, this is the story to read.

Submitted: February 17, 2010

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Submitted: February 17, 2010



Someone knocks on the door. I look at mama, who doesn't say anything since she is too busy unconsciously staring at the television screen. From the look on her face, I can't tell if she heard or not. Her blank stare prevented me from disturbing her peace. They knock again. Louder. It's more of a bang bang sound than took took. I look at mama again. We both know who it is. I ask her if she wants me to open it. She turns her head slowly towards me. That blank look is still ironed on her face. She looks at me and nods. I get up from the couch and open the door.

“Who is it?” I ask, while looking through the door’s peep hole.

“C.Q,” he says in a calm voice.

I open the door just wide enough for a child to pass through. C.Q's eyes catch the attention of the TV announcer and sees my mama sitting on the couch.

“Thought you said your mother wasn't home,” he said sounding irked.

“She jus' got here,” I said with ease while shrugging my shoulders. I step aside to make way.

He walks past me, rocking his shoulders from side to side like an alpha male in a group of handicapped chimpanzees.

“Yo' Von, I heard yo' ass got pregnant,” he said while his body purposely covered the TV screen. He wanted to show her who's boss.

“I'm,” my mama said as she looks down at the coffee table. Her eyes fixated at the half filled water glass. C.Q walks towards her. Leans forward and whispers something. She then, looks at me, “Brunell go to your room.”

“No, she stays. This is a family affair!” C.Q shouts while pointing his finger downwards to emphasize his point.

“Brunell Latrice Donald, get your television and go to your room,” Mama said in a serious tone.

I grabbed the mini TV and went to my room. I turned the volume lower as I stood in the hallway to eavesdrop.

“Bitch, where is my money?” I heard C.Q ask.

“You’ll get it when I get my aid check on Friday,” Mama told him in a calm voice but I still sensed her tremble when she spoke those words. Friday is only two days away; he’ll leave now. It’s not like he has any other reasons to stop by. They obviously stopped having sex. I went back to my room to watch the TV.

“You think I'm a joke?! Do I look like a damn fool!,” I hear C.Q shout. I hear his footsteps. The rough movement of the coffee table. The water filled glass stumbling from the movement then giving up as it hits the floor to assemble that crisp sound of frozen bells.

“Ahh!” Mama screams but I don’t move and my eyes continue to stare at the TV screen.

“Ahhh!,” she screamed louder now. I turned my head towards the sound. She screams again. I run to the living room and see C.Q’s hands covered in blood as he stands over my mama’s chest with a pocket knife. He was chopping her up and she was squealing like a pig. I started to scream like a piglet. Our screams got louder and C.Q turned to me and said, “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna kill you too!” I don't move and I don't make a sound. Mama lifted up her head and said, “Brunell.” I paid close attention waiting on her to finish her sentence. C.Q grabbed his knife and continued as if she was a stuffed doll and feeling no pain. As if the blood wasn’t scattering on his lips and eyebrows. As if, I wasn’t standing next to him at all. He continued to pound my mama’s chest like he owned her life and was taking what he thought belonged to him.

“Please stop,” I begged him as I tried to push him away with both hands pressing against his chest but he took hold of my hand and swung my body away like disposable paper.

His bloody hand went inside the dress of my mama's pocket. He took out the keys and headed towards the door.My heart felt like a stone and I wanted to sink down with it. Down to the floor where I could become invisible. I stood there watching him pushing the keys through the key-hole. Fumbling and twirling, they made a chilling sound of ice, as if death itself was ringing the little bells.

“How the fuck, you open this damn door,” he said while forcing his body weight through his slapping palm. He was standing there, being pissed that he lost control of this one little moment.Like a little maze rat, that aimlessly ran around after finding its piece of mozzarella cheese.

“Brunell, open this door,” he said. I don't move.

“Yo, you deaf? Open this damn door!” he shouts, whichwakes me up from my invisible state. I slowly walked towards him. With every step I take, I didn't feel the floor; there was no sensation in my bare feet. My legs are wood, carrying me like a plane on autopilot. I come up to him. My height is to his waist, so I arch my neck to look up at his eyes. He stares right back at me and I see his chestmoving up and down from the door pounding exhaustion. He dangles the bloody keys on top of my head. That sound of ice again. But this time, the drops of blood joined in the ensemble as they drip to the wooden floor. He gives me the keys. They feel cold, despite that his sweaty hands were holding them a few seconds ago. With one turn, the door opens. He reaches his bloody hand to open it half way and looks at me, as though he was trying to read my mind and mentally place himself into the “This Never Happened” club. He slides through the door; not caring if anyone sees him in the hallway. I hear his footsteps running though the stairs. I stand by the door, staring at his smeared bloody handprints. I run to mama and tell her to get up.

“C.Q is gone now,” I whispered as I shook her shoulders. She doesn't move, instead she willingly gave in into the motions that my little hands were making. I look down and see C.Q's outlined shoe prints of blood. The maze rat squeaked but nobody heard him and that's how he got away.

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