Felonious Continued.....

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

The downward spiral continued....

When we left my apartment, we brought two things with us: a claw framing hammer and a crow bar. We were going to need them to get through the skylight.

Shard was there waiting for us when we arrived.

"What took you guys so long?" Shard asks as we come walking up.

"Shard its only 12:30. You weren't supposed to be here until one." Muffin answers.

“Whatever man. Let’s get this circus off the ground”

“Alright. Shard, You and I are gonna climb up to the roof and drop down inside. Ronnie is gonna keep look out while we are inside.” Muffin explains as he pulls the ladder out of the shadows next to the duplex. Shard walks over and helps Muffin adjust the ladder to the proper height to get on the roof. Slowly and quietly they raised the ladder to the side of the record shop the same way the Amish would raise a barn.

Muffin grabs the garden hose from the shadows were ladder was stashed and puts his arm through the coiled hose and rests it on one shoulder and an empty backpack on the other.

He walks up to the ladder and signals me over with a hand gesture.

“Here take this” He says as he pulls the claw hammer out of his back pocket and hands it to me “This might come in handy. Now hold the ladder steady while we climb up.”

With the hammer in one hand I hold the ladder steady with the other while they climb up to the roof. It only takes a few moments for them to scale the ladder before they are up on the roof. I put the hammer through a belt loop of my jeans before I silently lower the ladder back to the ground and slowly stash it back in the dark shadow of the duplex. I look up to the roof and see two shadowy figures moving around. I here a popping noise and they disappear from my view.

I slowly creep along the side of the building hiding in the shadows along the edge of the parking lot. I watch through the window as Muffin slowly lowers himself down the garden hose into the headshop and immediately ducks down to the height of the display counter. He opened the back of the display and begins to fill his back pack as Shard begins to lower himself down.

I was watching Muffin move to the next display case when Shard lost his grip on the garden hose fell 10 feet on to a display counter. The glass display shattered upon his impact letting his body fall further down, shattering the glass bongs and pipes that were underneath the counter.

Muffin stands vertical and looks over at Shard. Shard doesn’t appear to be moving, but I can’t tell from my vantage point, so I move into the light of the parking lot and up to the window of the record shop hoping to get a closer look.

As I look through the window, I can see Muffin is leaned over Shard, shaking him and slapping his face. Shard isn’t responding to the physical jolts that Muffin is providing. Muffin moves away from Shard and begins to fill his back pack again, this time grabbing bottles of detoxifiers and herbal cleansing supplements.

Even from my obstructed view I could see Muffin's back pack was packed full, almost bursting a the seems. He zips up the top and leaves the headshop area and enters the record shop, as he crosses the door way the security alarm begins to wail causing Muffin to head straight for the front door.

He pushes on it and it doesn't budge. He frantically fidgets with the lock but it won't budge. I run up to the front door and look as Muffin drops the backpack and runs over to the counter where the cash register sits. He awkwardly lifts the register and runs toward the door. Ten feet before he gets to the door, the register is pulled out of his arms by the power cord that is still plugged in.

With a panicked look Muffin looks at me and pantomimes a swinging motion with one hand at the door. I grab the claw hammer from my belt loop. I close my eyes and raise the hammer up past my head and bring it crashing down on the glass door of the record shop. There is no sound of glass shattering just a thud of an object bouncing off of glass. I open my eyes. I look inside at Muffin and he has picked up register again. This time it towered above him as he had lifted it above his head. His face contorted as he threw the heavy object at the door. I cover my face with my hand to protect it from broken glass, but there is no glass. Just the thud as the register hits the glass and crashing sound it made once it hit the floor. I bring the hammer up above my head and begin to mercilessly bring it down on the door with all the strength I had. There was a slight sound of glass giving way under the unrelenting pressure of the flat metal head of the hammer. The glass didn't shatter, but the head of the hammer had penetrated it. I pull the hammer free and put my body in position to bring the hammer down one more time, as Muffin on the otherside had begun stomping at the weak spot of the glass.

The beginings of an adrenaline rush hit me as I realize the alarm is still going off. I put my fear of getting caught in check, and bring the hammer down with everything I have.  the bottom panel of glass on the door shatters, and Muffin quickly climbs through.

"C'mon we have to get the fuck out of here!" He shouts as he begins to sprint to the shadows of the nearby side street.

"What about Shard?" I ask as I trail right behind him almost matching his speed.

In the distance I can hear the wailing sirens of police cars peircing the silence of the night as they get closer and closer to the scene of the crime.


We were out of breathe by the time we arrived at Rob's house. 15 blocks is a long way to run, even with pausing briefly to hide in the shadows whenever a pair of headlights appeared on the street.

We came in through the back gate that lead to the sliding glass door across the concrete pad of a back yard. The curtains were closed behind the door so we couldn't see inside.

"So what happened to Shard?" I ask as Muffin begins to bang furiously on the glass door.

"He fell. there was a lot of blood." He says.

"So you just left him there."

"No we left him there, but in all honesty I don't think it matters. I think he is dead. The counter that broke his fall was glass, and everything in the case was glass. It all broke under his weight. There was a lot of blood." Muffin says as he continued to bang on the back door, only now he did it with so much intensity that I thought the glass door would give way under his unrelenting fist.

The curtain suddenly opens to reveal Rob standing in his boxers, a sawed off shotgun in his hand. Before Rob makes eye contact, he cocks the pump on the shotgun and racks a round into the chamber and points it toward the door. A cold sensation ran up my spine and a cold fear began to take over my mind. Panic began to set in as my thought process became fight or flight.

Suddenly there is a flash of recognition in Rob's eyes, and he cracks a smile. He reaches forward and unlocks the door, but quickly returns his free hand to the shotgun.  Muffin reaches out and cautiously begins to open the door. Rob turns around and walks over to his bed and lays sits down on the beaten up mattres and box spring.

"What brings you two dirt merchants to my neck of the woods and why were you compelled to bang on my back door like a couple shit for brains burglers?" Rob asks as he cocks up an eyebrow.

"Its kind of a long story." Muffin says as he walks in the room, takes off the back pack, and sets it down on the floor.

I walk through the door and turn to shut it. My shaking hands seemed to have no strength left. It feels like the door is made of iron, but I managed to pull the door shut and close the curtains. I walk over and sat down next to Muffin. It was more like I collapsed to floor than actually slowly sitting down.

As Muffin began to tell the story of how we came to be at Rob's back door at two thirty in the morning, I laid back and closed my eyes.


I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, Muffin and Rob were talking about some kind of job.

"Whats are you guys talking about?" I ask as I sit up.

"Well, Rob and I have been talking. Nothing but the detox bottles and herbal cleansers survived the journey. Everything else was glass and did not fare well in the trip here." I look at the floor between them. There was a pile of broken glass; Pieces of weed pipes, bongs, and crack pipes that were all broken and mixed together in a semi neat pile on the floor. "Long story short, we aren't going to get anything other than an eighth of weed for the system cleaners."

"Well that fucking sucks." I say.

"Indeed it does." Rob says "But as I was just telling Muffin I have a job that you two could do for me and I will pay you in crystal."

"I'm intrigued. What is it and how much crystal are you talking?" I ask.

“Well you guys know Joker right?” Rob asks.

“You mean the Portland street kid that lives in that one guy’s garage?” I ask “what could you possibly want with that smelly homeless asshole?”

“Well he and I had a business arrangement. I loaned him a fair amount of weed and cocaine and I have not seen nor heard from him in quite sometime.” Rob answers.

I was about to ask for more details, but Rob cuts off my train of thought and says “I just want you guys to go over and pick him up so he and I can discuss Joker’s obligations and his failure to fulfill them.”

“That sounds a little like Kidnapping to me.” I state, popping my knuckles nervously, and follow up with “I’m not exactly comfortable with that idea, plus a quarter ounce seems a little light for that kind of dirt.”

“Well it doesn’t matter what you’re comfortable with Ronnie. If you want crystal then you’re going to have to do this, because you guys don’t have shit-all to trade for some. It may be considered kidnapping, but the only reason it needs to be done is because that asshole won’t come to me to deal with the issue.” Rob says then adds. “I don’t want to hurt him I just want to talk to him.”

“Yeah Ronnie, Rob just wants us to go get Joker and bring him over here so Rob can talk some sense into Joker. It will be easy.” Muffin then adds. “Plus he is gonna give us some crystal upfront to do it.”

Almost on cue, Rob pulls out a pipe and puts a shard of crystal in the hazy glass bubble that is it's bowl. He pulls out a lighter and holds the flame underneath the bowl. It is far enough away not to burn the dope but to liquify it into a smokable form. I'm mesmerized. I cannot take my eyes off the flame and the pipe. Rob lets the flame on his lighter go out and lets the dope crack back into its crystal form.

"How do you know this is going to go so smoothly? I mean after what happened tonight, everything seems pretty fucked up." I say still unable to break away my eye contact from the pipe.

"You know tonight was just a random occurence. A glitch. A minor hiccup." Muffin says "Why don't you just take a few hits off the pipe and then we will see what happens."

Rob reaches out and hands me the pipe and lighter. I bring the pipe to my lips and slowly begin to rotate it while I applying heat to the bowl from below. I inhale the smoke, my taste buds recoil in horror at the awful chemical taste of the dope, but my mind comforts me with joy.



Muffin, Rob, and I sit in a red Toyota Rav 4. We were getting amped up for the dirty deed we were about to do; smoking meth and chasing that with some gut rot whiskey to help with the nerves.It was 2a.m. and we hadn’t seen a person on the street for forty five minutes. I asked Rob if he had a cigarette. He handed me a Camel 99 and says “smoke it quick, we gotta go, no better time then the present.”

I lit it and smoke half of it before we get out of the car to approach the garage that Joker calls his domicile. Rob waits in the car. He is going to be the wheelman; Muffin and I would be the muscle that delivers Joker to the car.

I have a roll of duct tape in my hand; Muffin is carrying a handful of zip ties. Everything you need to hog tie and gag a human being. It was a little odd going through the check out at the Hardware store earlier. The clerk had asked us what kind of home project we had going. Muffin’s response was that we were helping a friend move. It sounded like such an innocent activity.

We come up to the main garage door and then go to the right of the garage. According to Rob, the back door is the entrance.

It is dark and wet. I can feel the moist and slippery mud underneath my shoes. There is a slight breeze that is just strong enough to blow cold air through my hoody and slightly lower my body temperature.

We round the corner to the back door. I am supposed to be the first one through the door and use my size to take Joker down. I reach down and try the door knob, but it was locked.

I shoot a glance over at Muffin. He shrugs his shoulders and motions for me to try knocking. The poor fool wouldn’t suspect us to be doing what we were up to, so he would probably open the door and let us in.

I reach up and start knocking on the door.

“Yo, who the fuck is it? It’s two O’ clock in the fuckin’ morning!” Joker shouts from inside the garage.

We don’t utter a response. I just start knocking again. Eventually he would open the door.

“WHO IS IT?” He shouts.

I continue to knock, and finally I hear the click of a deadbolt and then the clicking of another lock. The door is unlocked. 

I grab the knob and put my shoulder into the door so it swings open with such force that anyone on the other side might be momentarily stunned by it. I couldn’t see into the room, there are drapes hanging from the ceiling blocking my view of the layout of the garage. I assume the drapes help keep heat in; it is a garage after all, it can’t be that energy efficient.

I continue through the doorway and pick up speed as I hit the drapes.  I suddenly hear a sound that I couldn’t place. It sounded so familiar. Why is it so familiar I think as I run through the drapes, I hear a clicking noise and then what sounds like a car backfiring. It was deafening. Then suddenly I feel something fly past my ear at high speed. It whistled as it sailed past my ear.

I hears someone behind me gasping. I look behind me at Muffin, who is holding is holding his throat and falling to his knees. I suddenly realize the familiar sound I had heard seconds earlier was a semi-automatic pistol being cocked. As Muffin collapses on the ground, a torrent of crimson blood flows out from beneath his hands soaking his hoody.

This was definitely a fight or flight situation. I put my legs in motion and begin to run through the drapes, pulling them down from the ceiling as I charge forward. Joker looks at me with his gun raised ready to level to the ground, He begins to squeeze the trigger as I get closer.

The gun cocks like it is about to fire and jams mid-action. Joker's face contorts into a look of shock as he looks down at his gun. I lower my center of gravity like a defensive end going in for a sack as I run toward him. Joker looks up as I hit him in the sternum with my shoulder with the impact of a freight train hitting a stalled car.

Joker falls backward with me on top of him. The impact of the fall and my tackle cause Joker to drop his jammed gun. His head bounces off the cold concrete floor of the garage after the initial impact. Joker was defenseless, but still struggling against me. I sit up and put all my weight on his chest to hold him in place, as I raise up a fist bring it down on his face. I raise it again and bring it down with even more velocity, this time the impact bends his nose sideways and blood begins to pour from his nostrils. I bring my fist up one more time and am about to bring it down when I notice that Joker's eyes have rolled into the back of his head.

I look behind me at Muffin as he thrashes on the ground. The Blood coming out of the new hole in his throat tells me all I need to know. Muffin is about to die. As his blood begins to collect in a large pool around him I realize there isn't anything I can do to help him.

I stand up off of Joker. He isn't putting up much of a fight now that he's unconscious. I run over and grab the zip ties from Muffin's lifeless hand, but I was moving so fast that I lost traction when I stepped in his pool of dark red blood and fell on to his body. I start to stand up, but I slip again and fall on him. I am covered in blood now. I reach over and grab the zip ties out of his hand and carefully stand up.

I run back over to Joker and begin zip tying his ankles and knees together. Then I roll him over and tie his wrist together and then his elbows. I roll him on to his back again and grab the roll of duct tape. I pull a 2 foot long strip off the roll and wrap it over his mouth, around the back of his head, and then bring it back around to make sure he won't be able say a word or even get free of his muzzle.

I stood up and took in the carnage that was now around me. The smell of burnt gun powder singes my nostrils and irritates my lungs. My heart feels like it is beating so hard it feels like it will explode out of my chest. I feel my clothes sticking to me from a mix of Muffins warm sticky blood and my own sweat.

I reach down and pick Joker up and throw his unconscious body on to my shoulder. I carefully walk across the garage carrying Joker; watching every step I take. I don't want to slip in anymore blood. I proceed out of the garage and head straight over to the Rav 4 where Rob waited with the engine running.

I open the door to the back seat and threw Joker on to the seat, pushed his legs inside the car and shut the door. I ran around the car and hopped into the passenger seat upfront.

The car smelled of stale cigarettes, whiskey, and meth smoke.

"Where's Muffin? And why the fuck are you covered in blood?"

"Just drive man. Get us the fuck out of here."

Rob puts the car into drive and steps on the gas and accelerates down the street.




We pulled into Rob's driveway. He puts it in park and we sit in silence. I stare straight ahead at Rob's front door.

"Did I hear a gun shot?" Rob asks as he turns and looks at me.

"Yeah." I say staring straight ahead. I feel his glare burning a hole in the side of my head, but I don't turn toward it. I just stare ahead.

"What the fuck happened in there Ronnie?"

"You know what? You can ask that asshole back there when he wakes up. I'm out. I'm fucking done with this." I say. "In six months of smoking meth, I have gone from being a normal Human being to a piece of human shit. I have been doing horrible things. Horrible things that I don't want to remember. Things that I want to banish from my memory forever. In the last forty eight hours alone, I have been shot at, seen two people die, committed a federal crime, and countless felonies. That is some big time bad shit man."

I turn my head and look Rob dead in the eyes. "I'm out. I'm washing my hands of all this."

Rob sat there speechless.

"Keep the crystal. I don't want it. It has cost me too much of myself as it is." I say as I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door.

"Wait!!!" Rob shouts as I get out and slam the door.

As I walk away from Rob's car, I can hear him inside screaming obscenities. I don't care. The farther I get from this place, better I will feel.

I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. I look at it in my hand. the fissures and seams of the phone have blood stuck in them. I try to clean it with the sleeve of my hoody, but it just smears more blood on it. So I take my blood soaked hoody off and throw it into some bushes. I flip open my phone and dial my Mom.

Two rings before she picks up.


"What is it Ronnie? Do you realize it is four in the morning?"

"I do Mom, but I really need help and you’re the only person in the world I have that will help me."

Submitted: April 03, 2012

© Copyright 2022 Jerad3G. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


iola ried

I like how you've done this, it's really good. Awesome job with the ending =)

Wed, April 4th, 2012 3:59pm


Thank you. I'm glad you liked it.

Wed, April 4th, 2012 9:12am

Jean Lagace

Hello Jerad. You write well and you obviously can tell a story. There are scenes in there with real action and you make us read the piece till the end which is the name of this game. Why do I feel that the story is not finish, though? I do think that Ronnie's problem needs more than mommie's help. So, you have to work the story line. I know. That is the difficult part. But you are lucky. You have the tools to make it work. And the stuff, as it is is good enough.

Mon, April 16th, 2012 8:09pm


Thanks. Yeah I just haven't had time work on anymore of it.

Mon, April 16th, 2012 9:25pm

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