Terrance in the Lottery

Dennis Talks to the Police

"The poor family," the tall one said, the wind started picking up, and he grabbed onto his blue hat. "What are you talking about? I'm still here, and Dennis is right here. Where are you taking him?" I kept asking, and asking but they didn't seem to hear me. I stepped in front of one, and I waited for him to bump into me, but he kept on walking down to their car, putting Dennis in the back.

One second I was on the grass, the next I'm next to my brother, music playing quietly. Then it started pouring outside, the rain tapping loudly like tap dancers. The officials pulled out cigarettes, and lit them with a lighter, the smell really strong. I scrunched my nose, and turn to Dennis, who started to move. He groaned, and touched behind his head, flinching.

"What happened..?"

"Son, you're going to jail for assaulting a federal officer." The official who had been hit by Dennis rubbed his jaw as he said this, and put his cigarette back in his mouth. I looked over to Dennis, and his face changed from confused to angry. I think he remembers why now...he's not happy. But why did he go off like that in front of the town?

Dennis spoke this time, but he sounded different...it was lower, and cracked at certain points. "Why is our town running like this..? Why do we do this to ourselves? Financial gain? Overpopulation?" He crossed his arms, and looked out the window.

One official shrugged, and said, "Well, I don't know, kid. But we agree with you on this, Dennis. We don't like it, either, but....it's our job-" my brother looked at them in the mirror. "Then why don't you just quit from this piece of crap job?" They both sighed.

"It's the only job we've got, Dennis," the one who got hit looked over to him with a look in his eyes....was he sad? "It would take us weeks, or even months to find a suitable job like this." Dennis's face only grew angrier, and angrier.

"So what you're telling me," he states, "is that you'd rather commit murder, which is against the federal law, than be in poverty?" The officials looked at each other with wide eyes, and back to Dennis. Murder? Why did he bring up murder? They turned down the radio, and turned to the side of the road, stopping.

"We didn't want to kill your brother, we didn't want to do any of this." Kill? They killed me? I'm dead..? " Dennis...I can't be dead," I asked. "Right..?" Dennis didn't hear me. "Dennis?"

I tried to shake him, but my hands went right through him. Is...is that why you yelled? Why Momma, and Marie cried? It's because I'm dead?

Dennis looked down, and folded his hands together. "Can I have a smoke?" The official raised an eyebrow.

"How old are you, Dennis?"

"I'm eighteen."

The official with the cigarettes handed him one, and Dennis muttered a 'thanks', taking the cigarette. He lit it, and opened the window. The smell of it was really strong now. If Momma saw him smoking, she'd be so mad.

Dennis sighed. "So...I'm going to jail for assaulting murderers?" They shook their heads. "No. We're letting you go, because you're right. It is wrong to commit murder, any kind of murder, and our government is pretty corrupted now that I think of it." Dennis paused for what felt like years.

"Well," he started to smile. "I'm glad you came to your senses. Ya'll need to quit your piece of shit jobs, and find new ones." The officials shook their heads, and laughed.

After they laughed, everything went silent, and all I could see was white.