Chapter 106

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One. Two. Three. Four.

One guard for each side of my RV. Les isn't playing around.

They stand about 50 yards away on each side.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four black dots in my vision. Like four shadow people.

I know they're guards. My mind sees them differently. Projects my subconcious into the night. The shadow people are back. Even after the sky turns black I can see them. Darker than dark. Blacker than black. Holes in the night.

Sleep is out of the question. I go through the RV instead. Try to find anything that could be used as a weapon.

Les's guys already sifted through everything. No knives. No clubs. Not even a can opener. Must've done the search after they knocked the door down.

They half-assed the door. It's hanging in place with duct tape. Good. It'll make it easier for me to leave. Because Sam is somewhere in the camp. And there's no way in hell I'm spending the night in here.

I'm right back where I was before I came to the Man Camp. Able to look out at the world. See the illusion of choices in front of me. But stuck like flies in a jar.

Seriously.

Like flies in a jar.

Seriously.

I look out at the shadow people. They stack on top of each other. Like acrobats. Make a tower. No. A silo. Or a grain bin. I know this is my imagination. I let it play out anyway.

My fingers go for an eyelash. There's nothing left. I hook the edge of the lid with the corner of my black fingernail. Dig until the tender skin is dirty red.

It mimics the feeling of plucking a lash. The pain is sharper, though. Cuts all the way down to my feet. Unzips a hole in me big enough to slide a coffin through. Or two. Stacked like sentences on a page. Like a grain bin.

Joe.

Elma.

I killed them.

I remember everything.

*** PLEASE SUPPORT MY WRITING! ***

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