I am certain I felt the chopper set down. The telltale bump of the ground is another clear memory. As certain as I was that we were back on the ground... I was equally certain I could do nothing about it; not even open my eyes.It was during that period of partial consciousness that I was aware of someone holding my hand, and stroking my cheek. The hand was shaking quite a lot, but since I couldn't see, and could barely hear, there was nothing I could do to calm them.The next conscious thought. ..uh throw it,” I tried “Hell no man, come get it…” I walked over to the couch to get it. Still in a stupendous haze from the previous session I shuffled over and plopped next to him on the couch. I packed the bowl and we smoked what must have been our 5th of the night. “Wow its early” Justin said, looking at his phone, “only 10:13…” He sort of trailed off like he had something he wanted to do. I think I knew what it was and I knew I wanted it too. We were silent for a few moments, and then I. Although he would pop in to see me from time to time, he never became a real nuisance. The only fallout from his visits was that my booze cabinet took a severe knock after he had popped in. Dylan was a party animal and drank like a fish. There was a club in town where he loved to hang out on weekends. Having taken a page out of his father’s book, Dylan also loved getting into fights at the club. His passions in life, as he told me, were fucking, fighting, and drinking. As far as the fucking. She had rested long enough. I popped the cap from a bottle of bleach Id brought downstairs and as it clattered to the concrete I upended the bottle over her head. As it poured through her hair and over her face and into her wounds she jerked and started. Her muffled scream doubled in volume as the bleach oozed into her swollen eyes and her body bucked and struggled. She tipped over onto her side awkwardly, I had cut the zip tie on her wrists while she slept and handcuffed her around the pole.
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