Wednesday, 7 December 2016

Your Mid-Week Update for 12/07/16

I think my sister is going back to her old ways. I don’t know for sure and part of me doesn’t want to condemn her right away but the rest of isn’t remotely surprised when I have to pick her up from a freezing back alley downtown so she doesn’t have to call her parole officer. It’s the first time since she’s been released but that doesn’t mean it’s the first time it’s happened. I knew my sister very well at the height of her criminal career, I know the signs when she’s headed down this path again. But we’re both different people than we were ten years ago – this city is different.

Alright, that sounds incredibly clichéd but I’m not wrong. Ten years ago, we were in an economic boom, unemployment was at an all-time high and we didn’t know it yet but we had one of the most corrupt and morally bankrupt Mayors of all time. Now temperatures are up, pricing is up, and our Mayor is a joke but at least he’s an honest one. I don’t know if this city could handle two villains prowling the streets every night.

This is what I feared when my sister said she was rejoining society. Total chaos.

To be fair, it hasn’t happened yet; and I know, I know, I should give her the benefit of the doubt. But I’ve been down this road before. I won’t walk it again. If she skips curfew again and brings me into her lies, I won’t hesitate. She’s my sister and I love her but we’re all safer with her behind bars.

Naturally, out of frustration, I took a walk after I dropped my sister off and ended up in a darker part of town. Every neighbourhood can be a bad neighbourhood with the right spin but when the city doesn’t bother to replace the streetlights when they burn out, that’s when you know you’re in trouble. They’re easy targets. Everyone on that street is looking for a victim, not a fight. They don’t expect to one from a woman walking alone. So when I do end up in the darker parts of town, I always play the part; it’s routine by now. I carry my keys in my fist, ready to strike at whoever comes too close, I have a hand in my pocket over what looks like pepper spray but it’s just perfume. And then some twenty-something white kid who thinks he’s tougher than he is comes up behind me and I start walking a little faster. So does he. I turn a corner. So does he. I turn into an alley away from prying eyes. So does he. Just as he’s about to strike, I strike first. It’s over in an instant and the statistics for gang-related deaths goes up.

This time was a little different. I followed my routine to the letter but then I started thinking about my sister and I got distracted. Suddenly I was backed into a corner with my keys in my hand and I’d lost the advantage. So I swung. And he was bleeding so I thought I’d gotten the advantage back but then I saw the damage and I just started laughing. I’d stabbed him in the eye with a key. He was screaming but there wasn’t a lot of blood. Then he was lying on the ground motionless so I grabbed the key and ran away.


The key got stuck. So I pulled. And then the eyeball came with it. Then there was a lot of blood.

The news said he died of a heart attack but they aren’t sure why his eye is missing so they’re opening an investigation.

It’s sitting in a pickle jar in my sink. I don’t know what to do with it. When I brought it home, James just started laughing and he still has no idea what to do with it. I just…there’s an eyeball in my bathroom and I have no idea what to do with it.

Should I flush it down the toilet? Sell it? Keep it as a trophy?

Any ideas, dear readers?

That’s not even the most dramatic thing that happened to me this week.

I think a figure from my past is coming back to haunt me. Someone came to my office last week, asking for me and refused to leave until my boss came down and escorted him from the building. I was still in the hospital so I got a call from Heather. She sounded frazzled and it takes a lot to frazzle that girl. There are two men who I think could do that to her and her ex-husband is still out of town arranging a new life. If that means what I think it means, I have every right to be very worried.

Pray for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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