Crouched in a ball, Drew's body rocked in a motion as if swayed by a tide. His curved spine facing the cell window—he didn't see the guards studying him. He mumbled nursery rhymes and quadratic equations in a single stream.
"Ya think he needs to go to suicide watch?" the first guard asked.
The second guard flipped through a few papers on his clipboard. "He testifies tomorrow. He's just anxious."
Drew's body flowed back and forth. "Hickory Dickory two times ten makes pie." He laughed.
The first guard shook his head. "Kid's broke. Seen it a hundred times." The two walked away to continue their rounds.
"Mary had a little fucker and he tried to kill you. He tried to kill you. The mouse ran up the clock and took a lamp and smashed it into his skull. Jack and Jill couldn't breathe and four times any variable is not your fault." He looked at the same gray wall he'd studied for months. "Fuck it," he said.
YOU ARE READING
HARMONY
General FictionHer father left. The perfect house in the perfect neighborhood. Claire needed her father. Her mother works hard, but hard to keep the neighbors impressed. Then, her dad runs away to be a rock band roadie. Her 4.5 AP Nerdfest brother is accus...
