Original Short stories.

Terrance

Times are harder these days…but all I can blame is the man in the mirror

My life was just fine until it all came crashing down, with a deal I made with a child.

When I met her I was at the lowest I could have ever been.

Or so I thought…

My pockets were always filled with either one of two things, drugs or cash. I'd resorted to working for a 24-year-old woman as a 36-year-old man to stay off the streets. Which is ironic because I work on the streets. The only difference between my life and back when I still had my old life, was I'd be met with a hot meal and an even hotter wife. Her name was Tracy, and I'd give anything to see her and my son again.

I was stupid enough to not appreciate her when we were still married, but I'd treat her like a queen now if I were lucky enough to be graced with her mercy and forgiveness.

Which she never gave out easily.

The moon was nearly full tonight, shining down on the dangerous city I started calling home about 3 years ago. The streets were filled with dirt and grime from lack of care, not even the people sentenced to community service cleaned it. Though somehow they always end up back on the streets just to do it all again. Vivian told me to hang out on old 27th Street; there would be a lot of crackheads and depressed teenagers coming out tonight. A new school year started only weeks ago, and every day, I see more 16-year-olds walking around in jet-black clothes with their heads down like their mother just slapped them across the face for waking up in the morning.

One of the little twat waffles was walking behind me now, his hair looking wretchedly cut off as if a drunk man tried to give him layers. I could feel my eyes twitch from how cringy it all was; for some reason, depression was a trend nowadays,  as if having your entire world crushed was the hottest thing to have. 

Occasionally I'll give the screen moths some drugs, just because I have a quota to meet, or Vivian will give me an ear full.

However, I want to make something clear.

I'm not intimidated by her, she's just annoying as hell, and honestly, if I wanted to have a headache, I would just go to the local bar and stand in the bathroom listening to women crying about their husbands cheating with other men.

As I was walking I noticed the street sign,

Old 24th street

I then looked around for the cops, before heading into an alleyway to stand there mysteriously. Yes, I did feel silly, but it was all part of the job.

But it was times like these when all I could think about was disappointed Tracy would be in me right now. She always said drugs were only created to ruin lives, despite being a doctor and pumping all sorts of drugs into people to save them. For once, I miss her ranting to me about my health and how I need to hang my jacket up on the coat rack and to actually wash it more than once a year, or to comb through my hair and not just brush it once a week.

You never appreciate those things until they're gone...

______________

By now, half the day had gone by when I got a message from my landlord; it made my heart pause when I saw the ID on my phone. This couldn't be good news at all, like getting a call from the bank.  When I answered with a hesitant

“Hello..”

I was met with a pleasant enough.

“Good afternoon Terrance, I hope you're doing well”

I rolled my eyes because it was a better day before he called.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine”

I replied, hoping he'd just get to the point.

“Well I've noticed you've been behind on your payments, and wanted to know when you send the check, otherwise I believe it would be best for you to find a different place to live”

Son of a-

Before my thoughts could finish I saw an obnoxiously bright little girl beside me.

In all honesty, she looked like Barbie's little sister.

She was wearing a very light blue shirt that had a collar on it and some kind of white scarf tied loosely around her neck, along with a matching white shirt that almost reached her knees and white sneakers.

I wouldn't be surprised if they lit up.

She had platinum blonde hair that reached the middle of her back, ocean-blue eyes, and a face of innocence. But if I knew what kind of freak she was back then I would have shot her when I got the chance.

“Hi!” she sang with a little wave, her hair swinging with her head.  “I didn't mean to overhear, but it seems like you're having trouble with your living situation,” she said, with a small tilt over her head, looking at me like I was an unfortunate soul.
To this day I still don't know how she heard my conversation when I didn't even have my phone on speaker. Still, I stupidly replied, “Look, kid, my situation has nothing to do with you. Don't you have to be in school or something?”

She giggled, taking a step towards me. “No, I don't go to school, though you look like you should go back,” she said, positive energy resonating off her.

I did not fully grasp what she had said to me until the encounter had ended. “Well, what do you want then?” I asked, practically telling her to decide my fate.

She smiled at me; at first, it seemed innocent enough until I realized her true intentions later down the line, only to look back and realize that was the moment she thought of what to do with me. “I'm glad you asked!” she beamed, and that's when she reached into her skirt pocket because that's a thing now and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper.  “Feel free to read it first, I have nowhere else to be,” she told me, handing me the now creased paper. 

Stupidly, I only skimmed it and signed it the minute I read it.

40,000$ per assignment.

My eyes almost popped out of my head, that amount of money could change my life.  I looked over at her, without questioning how she could even afford to pay me this kind of money. She had a pink pen in her hand and a smile that I should have known meant. Trouble.

Once I signed my name, she took the paper from me and then handed me an index card.

And my blood immediately ran cold.

I looked at this little girl and asked with a horrified look on my face. “You're joking, right?!” Panic started to set in. “Tell me you're joking!.. You've got to be messing with me!”  I yelled, realizing I was grabbing the attention of too Many people.

I looked at the card again, only to see the same instructions.

Bring me a human heart from a 12-year-old