B01M0OJOU7 EBOK

by Unknown

  TRASHED

  Edited by John Ledger and Dawn Cano

  Cover Art by:David McGlumphy

  http://jellingtonashton.com/

  Copyright.

  T.S. Woolard, Toneye Eyenot, Dani Brown, Andrew Bell, Brian Barr, Tristann Jones, Lyndon D. Johnson, Mark Woods, Danielle Raschel Mathews, John Ledger, Dawn Cano, Essel Pratt, Jim Goforth, Amanda M. Lyons, Justin Hunter, Michelle Garza & Melissa Lason, Michael Noe

  ©2016 Authors

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book, including the cover and photos, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. All rights reserved.

  Any resemblance to persons, places living, dead, or undead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Substance-TS Woolard

  The Bladder of Jackie Daniels-Toneye Eyenot

  I'm Going to Fuck the Pretty Boy and Get Your Brother High-Dani Brown

  1234 Boom!-Andrew Bell

  Buffa: Sweets and Spectrums-Brian Barr

  IRL-Tristann Jones

  Maggot Brain Theory-Lyndon D. Johnson

  One for the Road-Mark Woods

  The Sign of the Fridge-Danielle Raschel Mathews

  Meet the Chunks-John Ledger

  Into the Light-Dawn Cano

  The Man-Essel Pratt

  Strange Old Brew-Jim Goforth

  Riding the Caterpillar-Amanda M Lyons

  Spout Hole-Justin Hunter

  Black Top Ground Beef-Michelle Garza and Melissa Lason

  In the End Only Darkness-Michael Noe

  SUBSTANCE

  T.S. Woolard

  The scared mother prays at the alter

  For sobriety, that she won't falter.

  It's more than she can bear,

  And she's nowhere near prepared

  To give up her soul-killing juice.

  She questions herself. Are the prayers any use?

  She lies in bed, shattering to pieces.

  She hates the pain, hates a man named Jesus.

  Would he do this to her? Could he really have heard?

  If she is to be the child's mother,

  Why has she got to be smothered?

  The sun comes on a day anew.

  She knows now what she must do, with 90 proof.

  With a fresh sense of direction

  She catches a glimpse of her reflection.

  Wrinkles age her once lovely face,

  So she has another taste.

  The hospital separates her with glass.

  She waits for the crowds to pass.

  Then there are only three on the hall--

  The baby, a nurse, and the one to end it all.

  She pulls the gun from her leather purse

  And blows away the unknowing nurse.

  She breaks into the dependent infant's room,

  And takes the baby from the capsule of doom.

  She cradles the beautiful child

  And tells it all about an addiction gone wild.

  "I love you," she says, with the gun to her head.

  And gave the child to God, in her death.

  THE BLADDER OF JACKIE DANIELS

  Toneye Eyenot

  I could really use a piss right now.”

  “Again? But you just went, not ten minutes ago!”

  “Aw, c’mon, man! You know I have a weak bladder. That was uncalled for.”

  “Sorry…”

  Seventeen-year-old Jackie Daniels and his best mate, Bluey, sat shivering in the early evening moonlight, passing the bottle between them. They were waiting for the security guard to finish up with his patrol of the recently closed down amusement park. It’d been all over the news, the loud bang and suspicious fire that had flared up suddenly, tearing through the Ghost Train attraction, gutting it, and killing several people.

  Bluey was a bit of a scallywag, but he hadn’t expected his stupid prank to cause such devastation and gain such publicity. He and Jackie were always getting up to some sort of mischief in their drunken revelling. Like the time Jackie had passed out at the train station, pissing his jeans and throwing up all over himself, while Bluey went along the platform, lighting all the garbage bins on fire. They were caught, only because Bluey couldn’t wake his pal, and he refused to try picking him up after messing himself so thoroughly. He was a fiercely loyal mate however, and didn’t leave Jackie stranded to cop the blame for his shenanigans. There was minimal harm done, and they were let off with a stern warning along with a phone call to their parents to come pick them up.

  This time, what was meant to be just a harmless scare tactic had produced catastrophic results. The two boys were riding the Ghost Train, drunk as usual, when Bluey thought it would be a good idea to jump out and hide in one of the dark nooks with a pocketful of crazyjacks and a lighter.

  “This is shit,” he had said. “Is this really supposed to be scary? Fuggit. I’m gunna give ‘em a fright they won’t soon forget!” Before Jackie had a chance to say anything, Bluey had vanished into the darkness, leaving Jackie to finish the ride on his own. He sort of agreed with Bluey. This wasn’t really all that scary, but he had jumped a few times, and very nearly wet his pants, when some mechanical spook in tattered rags dropped from the ceiling, or when a screaming face sprung up from the floor beside their little carriage. He knew it was all fake, just a silly ride in an amusement park, but the goings on in the dark tunnel still managed to get his heart racing. Not Bluey though. He was definitely the most daring of the two, and almost always the instigator when it came to getting up to no good.

  As the next carriage rolled through, Bluey pulled a handful of the firecrackers out of his pocket and lit them all at once, flinging them after the passing train and running for his life back towards the entrance. The fun park was jam-packed with people that particular Saturday afternoon, and Bluey managed to slip, unnoticed, behind the ride’s operator and blend immediately into the milling crowd. Not a moment too soon, either. The instant he made his stealthy exit, several small bangs and an explosion rang out from the Ghost Train, followed by screams of very real fear. Smoke billowed out of the tunnel and the carriage inside failed, leaving the terrified occupants trapped in the rapidly expanding fire which ensued. Jackie found Bluey hiding behind a fairy floss cart, white-faced and shaken.

  “What the fuck did you do, Bluey?” Jackie whispered to his freaked out mate.

  “It was just some crazyjacks! Harmless damn crazyjacks, man!”

  Jackie clapped his hand over Bluey’s mouth. “Ssshhh! We gotta get outta here, man! Let’s go, come on!” As flames engulfed the doomed ride, the two scoundrels made their getaway amongst the panicking crowd. Once outside the gates, Bluey stopped, as Jackie looked around for somewhere he could take a sneaky leak.

  “Fuck!” Bluey exclaimed, frantically rummaging through his pockets. “My lighter! I dropped my lighter!”

  “Well, we can’t go back in there now,” said Jackie, shifting from one foot to the other and grabbing his crotch. “Besides, I really have to piss. My fuckin’ back teeth are floatin’, man!”

  “Yeah, when don’t ya need to piss?” Bluey scowled at his distressed friend, who looked at him with a scowl of his own.

  “Fuck you, Bluey,” he retorted.

  “Fuck me? Nah, fuck you! I gotta find me lighter! The pigs’ll be here searchin’ the joint before long, and if they find it, I’m fucked!”

  “Well, you go find your lighter. I’m gunna go fin
d a tree.”

  Only the exit gate was open, and people poured out in droves. Nobody was getting back inside now. Bluey stood, swaying in an inebriated panic, hoping for a chance to push through the exiting crowd. It wasn’t looking very promising, but Bluey was determined.

  “Excuse me… Excuse me… Excuse me.” He squeezed his way through the mass of people, only to be stopped at the gate by a park official.

  “Sorry, buddy. We’re clearing the park. There’s been a terrible accident, and nobody can come in.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Bluey. “I was in there. I lost my wallet. There’s three hundred bucks in it, and I have to find it. Please, can I just run in quickly? I know where I had it out last.”

  “Sorry, mate,” replied the attendant. “Nobody’s coming in. If you give me your name and address, we will contact you if we find it.”

  Bluey threw the guy a fake name and address on the spot. He was good like that. Real quick-witted. Grudgingly, he turned around and left to look for Jackie, who had found a hidden spot to relieve himself, and was now sitting on the grass, puffing away on a smoke.

  “Did ya find it?” he asked.

  “Nah, man. The bastard wouldn’t let me in. We’re gunna hafta come back tonight, when it’s dark.”

  “Bluey, the place will be crawlin’ with pigs. Think about it!”

  “Then we’ll come back tomorrow night, and hope to Hell they don’t find my lighter in the meantime,” Bluey replied. He had a worried look on his face. Jackie wondered if he was more concerned about his missing lighter than he was about the people who had died, thanks to his idiot stunt.

  “Alright,” said Jackie. “Any sign of bacon though, and the deal’s off, OK?”

  “Alright, alright! Fuck, you can be such a chicken shit sometimes! You got any more grog? I need a drink.”

  “Nah, man. You had it last.”

  “Haha! So I did!” Bluey laughed, pulling the hip flask from his denim jacket, and taking a large swig before handing it to Jackie. Together, the drunken buddies staggered off toward home.

  ***

  The security guard had finished his sweep of the premises and was driving away. It was time.

  “Wait. Just let me piss first. I thought he was never gunna leave! Back in a sec.” Bluey impatiently watched Jackie disappear into the darkness, but kept his mouth shut, for once. He never meant to, but he always hacked out on his mate and his pea sized bladder. It was like an OCD thing, or something. Jackie would announce his urge, and Bluey would invariably have some smart arse reply to throw back at him. This time he held his tongue. Jackie didn’t have to be here with him. This was going to be risky. More risky than most of their drunken adventures together, but that’s the way it always was…Together. A blood oath they had made two years previous, after polishing off nearly three goon sacks between them. They had identical scars on the heel of their right hands, which they had inflicted with a piece of broken glass to secure their pact.

  Jackie returned from his business to an anxious Bluey. During the few minutes he was gone, his best friend was struck with the seriousness of what he had done yesterday. People were dead because of him.

  “The fuck was I thinkin', Jackie? I killed those people, man! I fuckin’ killed ‘em!” The look of deep remorse he held made Jackie’s eyes well up. His best friend in the whole world had fucked up royally, and was now realising the impact of his brainless actions.

  “Don’t worry, brother. You’re secret’s safe with me, you know that. Nobody will ever know.”

  “But, I know!” Bluey yelled. “I know…” he repeated again in a mournful whisper, more to himself than to Jackie. Jackie didn’t say anything, but patted a reassuring hand on Bluey’s shoulder, then began walking towards the high fence surrounding the park. Bluey jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and hurried to catch up. They scaled the fence easily and dropped down inside the eerie stillness of the amusement park. They stood for a few moments, listening intently for any signs of security patrolling the grounds. Satisfied by the silence that ensued, they made their way towards the devastated Ghost Train.

  “Man, it’s so different here after dark! Spooky!” Jackie said, as a shiver ran through him. He didn’t want to mention it, but he really needed to go… again. You can hold it in for now, he told himself, unconvincingly. Bluey didn’t answer. He seemed lost in his thoughts, so Jackie didn’t say another word. They walked together in silence through the morbid scenery. Jackie couldn’t keep his mouth shut for long, though.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I dunno. You don’t seem yourself tonight.”

  “Would you? Can you imagine if it was you who was responsible for killing innocent people? There were fuckin’ children in there, Jackie! Little fucking children!”

  “I know,” Jackie replied and put his head down. “Sorry, man. I’ll just shut up now.”

  The boys continued on once again in silence. Bluey pulled the bottle from his jacket and looked at it for some moments as they walked, then cracked the lid and took two big gulps without breaking stride. He handed the straight bourbon to Jackie who accepted it wordlessly and stopped to take a drink. Bluey kept walking, his shoulders hunched and a little wobbly on his feet. The burn of the liquor as it went down renewed Jackie’s urgency to relieve himself. Without a word, he ducked behind a wall and let flow. When he reappeared, Bluey was once again standing there, waiting impatiently. Jackie ran to catch up to his friend, feeling much better.

  “Hey, what if the Ghost Train has real ghosts in it ooooOOOoooo!” He was starting to feel pretty pissed at this stage, and forgot his friend’s sullen mood momentarily. Bluey just shot him a bemused glare and kept walking. They could see the burnt out hulk up ahead, and Jackie began to fall into the same mood as Bluey. The smell of smouldering ash was heavy in the air as they approached the Ghost Train. Its entrance was blackened and dilapidated, gaping at them in a miserable moan. There was a slight warm breeze in the air, and the wind whistled morbidly within the uninviting tunnel. Bluey gave a violent shudder as he stepped over the single line of police tape stretched across the entrance, lost his footing and hit the ground hard.

  “Fuck!” Bluey exclaimed, picking himself up off the rubbly ground, as Jackie hurdled the police tape clumsily, nearly going down in the process himself.

  “C’mon. Let’s do this,” said Jackie. “I don’t wanna be here any longer than we have to be. This joint is creepin’ me out. Here, you’d have a better idea of where your lighter might be.” He flicked on the torch, handed it to Bluey, and in they went.

  Once inside, it wasn’t just burnt ash that assailed their nostrils, but the undeniable odour of charred flesh and burnt hair. Jackie paused for a moment, the alcohol churning in his gut and threatening to come up in a fountain of spew. Bluey seemed undeterred by the smell. He was slowly walking along the track, panning the torchlight side to side on the ground as he went. Jackie got a jolt of panic, as if somebody or something were behind him. He quickly ran to Bluey’s side and began helping him search. After only a few minutes, which seemed like forever, their search had still produced no result.

  “Let’s go, man. Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this.” Jackie said nervously.

  “Just a bit further up. Remember where I jumped out? It was around that next bend. If we don’t find it by then, the pigs probably found it… in which case, I guess I’m fucked.”

  They continued to search as the tunnel around them got darker, and considerably warmer. The fire had been ferocious, and parts of the building were still smouldering, more than a day later.

  “We really shouldn’t be in here, Bluey. What if the whole fuckin’ thing collapses on top of us?” Jackie’s nerves were at an all-time high and, sure enough, his bladder responded with a twinge.

  “We’re nearly there, chicken shit. Don’t go fuckin’ pissin’ yourself over it. We’ll be outta here in no time. Just help me look, man!”

  “You c
an be a real cunt sometimes, y’know that?” Jackie whined.

  “Yeah, I know. Suck it up. You want me to get locked up for this? Man, if I get done for this, they’ll put me away forfuckinever.” Jackie didn’t respond. He was too busy trying not to piss himself. He was a lot drunker than he had realised, and he was having a bad time trying to hold it in.

  “I gotta…. Ah, whatever.” Jackie stumbled on ahead into the darkness while Bluey kept his slow, methodical sweep with the torch. Jackie climbed up onto a fallen beam and took a leak on the wall.

  “YES! I FOUND IT!” Bluey’s voice reverberated throughout the Ghost Train, as he yelled out in excitement. “Jackie, let’s get outta here!” Just as he spoke, a loud rumble shook him to his bones, then the cut off yell from his blood brother…his best mate, as a part of the roof crashed down upon him.

  “Jackie!” He yelled and started to run towards him in the dark. There was no response. “JACKIE!” Jackie Daniels lay face down. His head was concealed by what looked like a large slab of concrete, and his body was motionless. He had been killed instantly.

  “NO! FUCK NO! JACKIE! No no no no no NO!” His desperate howls were answered by another loud rumble, and Bluey turned tail, bolting back for the entrance. Outside the Ghost Train, Bluey dropped on the ground and cried his eyes out. “You and that fucking bladder. Ya just had to go ‘n’ piss there. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

  Bluey lay on his back on the dirty fairground. Not only had his stupid, drunken stunt cost the lives of several innocent people, but he was now responsible for the death of his best friend as well. He sat up and wiped his eyes, then pulled out the bottle and drank it until it was empty. He hurled the bottle with all his might at that damned Ghost Train, then fell back onto his back and let out a series of anguished growls and yells. His mind began to get very dark. He was well and truly fucked now, and there seemed no way out of it.