Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

            Just under seventy hours.  That's how long I spent laying in the dark of the closet trying to avoid the world and what the future held for me.  There was never a need to eat, drink or pee.  Or really sleep, for that matter.  I lay in the room and closed my eyes and went back over the last few weeks in my mind, but I can't say I ever really lost consciousness.  It's been a weird sensation realizing I haven't slept in over half a month, and the lack of sleep hasn't adversely affected me at all (Not sleeping certainly isn't my biggest problem right now.  The reason why I don't have to eat or drink any more is the much bigger issue.).

            I did take one small break some thirty hours into my seclusion to make sure Lazzy still had access to his food and some water and that I had left a side door open so he could get outside if he wanted to.  After that I made sure to leave the closet door cracked so he could come in to me if he wanted to, and he did off and on over the previous day and a half.  It was nice to have his unconditional love, and soft fuzziness, smashed up against me.  His presence has made getting past the darkness a little bit easier.   Without him nuzzling me from time to time, I'm not sure I would have the strength to face what is coming.

            "Hey Lazzy.  Come 'ere boy," I say softly and finally commit to sitting all the way up.  I can hear him snuffling around outside the closet door before he pops his head through and jogs over to me.  Since living with me here in the warehouse his hair has started growing in thicker and shinier.  Something tells me that getting a regular meal is a good thing for him.  He wags his fluffy - yet still slightly scraggly - tail at me and proceeds to lick my cheeks and ears.

            "Good boy," I tell him and dig my fingers into the hair on his back side and scritch it back and forth (with the grain, and then against the grain) in the way I know he likes.  "You're a good boy, Lazzy," I tell him in that annoyingly pitched voice that all dog owners seem to innately adapt when talking to their canine friends.

            It's refreshing to have some unconditional friendship right now.  I need it after what happened at those houses.  I know my intentions were good and I destroyed a house full of poison that was meant for the streets, but I also did some bad things, too.  I destroyed a house and most likely burnt it to the ground.  I hurt people.  They weren't exactly innocent people, but they were still living beings that I inflicted torment upon.  And I did worse than that.  At least to two people I did something even worse than just inflict simple pain.

            I shake my head and vow not to dwell on what occurred.  It happened, and it is now in the past (And if they hadn't already chosen a path of evil, then they never would have been at that house in the first place.).

            After a few more well-deserved behind-the-ear scratches, I release my beloved fluff ball and push myself to my feet.  I should be wobbly after being curled in a ball for three days, but I'm as steady as a decades-old oak tree shrugging off the spring winds.  My body feels good.  Nothing in me feels tight or cramped or out of place.  I stretch and wiggle my extremities to get the blood to flow through them evenly.

            "Uhmmmm," I moan as I release the stretch and settle into a relaxed stance.  "Might as well get this started."

            Just outside the closet door I see the duffle bags from the other night, undisturbed and still stuffed with cash (I can't see the money, but the distinct scent of sweat and cloth and greed clings to the bags and loudly declares what's hidden just behind the zipper.).  I have no idea what I'm going to do with the bills yet, but I know it's better that they are with me rather than still be at that house.  I'll find a use for them at some point.  Maybe I'll even get a real home instead of this warehouse.

            Looking up at the warehouse's large windows, I can see the night sky beckoning to me.  I'm not necessarily eager to go out to another house and repeat what I just went through, but I know it must be done.  The longer I put it off, the more excuses I'll find to avoid it.  To be honest with myself, aside from sitting around here and letting depression wrap its gray fingers around me, there isn't much else for me to do.  I no longer have a home.  I don't think it's safe to go back to my family.  I can't really be trusted to be around people.  I'm just a girl with a dog and a mission.

            To make matters worse, and I don't want to completely give in to this part of myself yet, I enjoyed dismantling that drug house and stopping the illegal activities that were occurring there.  I felt like I was doing some good in the world.  Whatever happened to me in that alley weeks ago created a fork in the road of my life, and I have had to choose: either take the heroic path or an evil one.  I don't think I'm allowed to just coast through life anymore.  That option no longer exists for me.  I need to either give in to the darkness and see where its warmth can take me, or I need to resist it for as long as possible and abuse the powers it gives me so that I can make a difference in the world.

            Destroying these drug houses is how I'm going to change the world.  I will destroy each house until I find the man responsible for them, and then I will destroy him.  By doing that I will have helped reestablish the balance of good and evil that my very existence seems to threaten.

            Looking down at the burned and shredded (and now partially blood-covered) clothes I've been wearing for the last few days (Clothes don't matter much when you're living in a giant warehouse by yourself.), I contemplate changing into one of my few other outfits.  My ensemble makes me look absolutely horrifying, and I realize I might as well be a horror movie monster.  My pants are in tatters from the explosion and there is blood and ash stained all over them.  My tank top is in slightly better condition after the blast with only a few holes in it, but the entire left side is caked in my dried blood from the gunshot wounds I sustained.  To round out my horrifying look, I've also got dried blood down my face and throat and onto my chest.  An impressive amount of blood that isn't mine (I know how it got there, but it’s also something I refuse to think about right now.), and I'm sure the sight of it will give any normal person pause.

            I realize there is no other outfit I could put on that could possibly work more to my advantage in startling people tonight.  I might not even want to hide myself once I arrive, and instead I'll use my visage to my advantage.

            On a whim, I bend down and open one of the duffel bags and pull out a small stack of hundred dollar bills and shove them into my front pocket.  I have no idea if it will be useful or not, but I figure there isn't much else from here that I can bring that would benefit me in any way.  And it was nice being able to pay those people for their propane tanks to assuage some of the guilt my thieving generated.  Maybe an opportunity like that will arise again.  Best to be prepared.

            "C'mere Lazzy.  Give mommy a kiss before she goes," I say to my only friend left in the world.  I let him jump up on my hunched form and lick my cheeks and ears again (He avoids my chin and neck where the dried blood is.  I don't blame him for being bothered by it.).  His slobber is reassuring and helps ground me. 

            This is my happy moment, I think.  This is what helps make it all worthwhile.  A flickering image of my parents jumps in my mind for a moment, but I push it away.  That's too painful to think about.  I can't think about what my disappearance has done to them.  If I start thinking about that, I'll give in and visit them or contact them.  And what happens if the dark hunger strikes while I'm there?

            "No," I tell myself and shake my head.  "That part of my life is behind me now.  Let's just think about tonight.  And doing good things."

            I pause and look at Lazzy and smile.  "And some very, very bad things to some very evil people."