Chewing On Glass Presents… New Year’s Eve…

New Year’s Eve

“You know what the best part about New Year is?” The question hangs in the air. An open wound dripping from her face. “I could give a fuck, you fucking piece of,” she is cut off. Silenced by a dirty finger on her lips. Her own blood and who knows what else. “Now, now it’s best you listen rather than blurt out useless words that hold no meaning. For warning the next time you speak to me like that I’ll cut off something that matters not simply bust you up side your head,” he tells her. A fire burns in her eyes as she snaps her powerful jaws at the dirty finger. Useless attempt to hurt her captor. He doesn’t say a word at her sad attempt to hurt him. With a look of disappointment displayed on his face he plunges the knife in his hand into her leg. Precise he misses anything vital and inflicts a pain that she can only imagine is the beginning of the end. Screaming, crying her pain takes over her emotions. Breaking the tension and the air that he has been trying to create. He grabs her by the back of the head, “I’ll ask you again. Do you know what the best part about the New Year is?” A dirty mix of snot and tears falls from her face as she speaks, “Can you. Can you take the knife out of my leg?” He touches the handle of the knife ever so gently. “There is a long answer here as to why I can’t and I would love to explain it to you, but I’m not really all that interested. So the short answer is no,” he takes his hand off the handle of the knife. “The resolutions,” he announces moving on from her disobedience. “Take last year for example my resolution was to not kill anyone. Worked out for a time, but let’s face it a wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf. Is he not? God you whimper a lot,” he complains. “I can’t help it. My leg hurts so bad,” she cries. He caress her hair, “Sweetie you haven’t even begun to understand the word hurt. Now where is that darling friend of yours?” He grips a handful of hair. “I don’t know,” she says through tears. “Not good enough. I’ve been watching the two of you for a time now. Don’t think I don’t know any and everything about you. Your girlfriend is never late and today of all days she happens to be late? Consistency the world runs on consistency,” he says to her. “I don’t know,” she cries once again. “Please don’t hurt her,” she begs. “Please don’t.”

“So what’s the plan this year?” Her hand is intertwined with hers. “I don’t know really. I was thinking this year we could have a calm night at home. Watch the ball drop or something that normal people do. What do normal people do?” Her girlfriend asks. “What do boring people do?” She rephrases the question. “I have no idea what boring people do. I want to go out. Do something exciting,” she smiles. “I’m sure we can find something to do,” her girlfriend reasons. They stop just outside of her apartment building. They kiss passionately. “I guess I don’t have much time to show you the time of your life,” her girlfriend jokes. “Nope, not really,” she smirks. Her girlfriend lets out a sigh, “I’ll see you tonight then?” She smiles and puts her arms around her, “You better.” They kiss once again before parting. She watches her walk away before entering her building. A man waits in the driver’s seat of the car nearby. Rolling the passenger window up. He waits some more. Waits for the right moment.

“Can’t hurt what isn’t here. So where is she?” He asks impatiently. “She should be here already. She should have been here by now. She is never late,” she tries to reason. He grabs the handle of the knife and moves it ever so slightly. She screams out in agony. “Now there is no reason to lie to me. Lying to me will only bring you pain,” He says calmly. “I didn’t lie,” her tears dripping off her face. “She is never late?” He questions. “Unless you are speaking of a different woman. Then you of all people should know she is always late,” he releases the handle of the knife. “How the fuck long have you been watching me?” she asks. “Long enough to know everything I needed to know. Long enough to know that no one is anywhere to be found. You’d be amazed the amount of information people are willing to give. I mean willing. Not knife in your leg willing, but pretty close. People never shut the fuck up really. They just talk and talk. About anything and everything,” he lectures. “Kind of like now?” She asks. He smiles under the mask, “There we go. That’s the kind of wit that will get you far in this game. Quick. Always be quick. Don’t let anyone take advantage of you.” She looks puzzled, “What is that even supposed to mean? Besides you know one is taking advantage of me.” He pretends to be pondering something. Acting out all the nonverbal expressions hidden behind his mask. He rubs the chin of the mask. “Are you sure?” He asks. “I mean where is she?” He wonders out loud. “I don’t fucking know,” She screams agitated. “Really? Because I think you do. I mean I know I do. But between me and you where do you think she has been spreading her legs lately?” He asks. “You are fucking sick to think that I am going to play along with your stupid little games,” she says in a pissed off tone. “Oh, you are going to play the game,” he says as a matter of fact. “Why the fuck would I give you the satisfaction?” she asks. He reaches for his bag resting next to her chair. His breathe brushing up against the skin of her leg. “I’ve been telling the truth. I have been talking,” she pleads in a panic. He pulls a camera out of his bag, “You seems rather nervous for someone who doesn’t want to play, the fucking game,” he mocks before laughing. He holds the camera out for her to take, “Go ahead take it.” She dead stares into his masked eyes. “My hands are bound,” she reminds him. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t want to see what I’ve got anyways. I mean you don’t want to play the game. You don’t want a chance to live,” he repeats back to her. In one quick motion he pulls the knife out of her leg and presses the blade to her throat. “So what is it going to be?” His voice deep and serious. “Are you going to play the game or am I going to slit your throat and fuck the wound while you slowly bleed out?” Her words are barely audible. Somewhere between a whisper and a cry. “Speak up or forever hold your peace,” he shouts. “I’ll play the game. I’ll play the game,” she shouts each word and each breath pressed against the blade. “Good then let’s begin,” his voice completely different as he takes the blade away from her throat. “How have we already not begun?” she questions as blood seeps from the wound in her leg. He shrugs his shoulders, “Because I make the rules?”

“Your whole life is based on rules. When do I sit? Where do I sit? What are the rules to sitting? Just relax. Go with what feels right. Be yourself,” the woman before her says. “I think you mean what is the proper etiquette to sitting,” she responds back. They both burst out into laughter. “Of course you would focus on that and nothing else I said,” the woman smiles. She puts a puzzled look on her face, “Did you say anything else?” The woman takes her by surprise into her arms, “I could say or not say anything to you, and still find things to not say to you.” She kisses the woman, “Good.” A server walks up to them. “Excuses me ladies your table is ready.” He walks them through the dining room of the restaurant. They take a sit at their table and he hands them their menus. “Your server will be with you shortly. Is there anything I can get you to drink in the mean time?” he asks. They order drinks and he walks away. She looks over the menu. Eyeing something light for tonight. Talking as she reads the menu. The woman keeps taking glances just past her. “I said do you think I should have the salad or the salmon?” she asks again. “What?” The woman asks burning holes into her menu. She glances behind her to see what her girlfriend was looking at. She doesn’t see anything beyond more people eating and drinking. “Did you see someone you know?” She asks. “No, I thought I did. But I didn’t,” the woman says quickly. “Okay,” she says awkwardly. “So should I get the salad or the salmon?” She asks one last time before picking the menu back up. “Which one do you want the most?” The woman ask. “Neither, what I really want is the nachos with extra shit,” she jokes. The woman smiles but even a blind man could see she is somewhere else. “Then get the nachos with the extra shit,” her girlfriend says. She puts the menu back down, “What’s wrong? Where did you go all of a sudden?”

He snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Did I lose you there for a second?” He asks. “If you know where she is. Then where is she?” She asks. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says before closing the knife and putting it in his pocket. “First I have to ask though. Where do you think she is?” He asks while turning on the camera. “I’m not even sure I want to know as much as I think I do,” she says in a low tone. “Well that’s not an answer,” he mocks. “She is probably with some whore right? That’s what you want me to say. That is what you want me to believe. Let me guess you got some photo of some hot bitch with her head between my girlfriend’s legs?” She says through gritted teeth. “I’ve got something better than that,” he moves the camera preview screen just in front of her face. It takes her a second to focus on the tiny image. “That fine looking bitch sure does have a pretty hairy ass,” he jokes. Her face is filled with confusion. “Seems your girl needed a little bit more than you could provide,” he offers as a relief. “She said that was her brother,” she says out loud. He flips the camera preview back so he can look at it, “Nope, that’s not her brother. I have seen her brother. Not in the same night mind you. But even creeping through his apartment in the dead of night. I can tell you that is not her brother,” he says. “You fucking think? Jesus what the fuck,” she screams in agony. “Damn, that really wasn’t the reaction that I was going for. I almost feel something. I almost feel bad, but mostly I feel jealous,” he says tapping the side of the chair with his foot. “What the fuck are you talking about?” She asks. “I mean here I am. I got you strapped to a chair, I put a knife in your leg, and I was already to torture you for hours. I mean hours to get a scream like that out of you, and all I had to do was show you a picture? I really need to up my game,” he says before flipping through the other pictures on the camera. They sit and stand there awkwardly. The sound of the next photo button filling in the silence of the room. “Did you want to see this one where she shoves his whole dick in her mouth? I was able to get a before and after shot. Like going in her face was fine and then taking it to the point of tears. It looks pretty sexy to be honest. I got this other one where she is sitting on his face. Did she sit on your face too or was that more of your thing? Maybe she just needed a new kind of domination? I don’t know how that works really. I’m not going to lie. I don’t know. I’m not good with relationships or human interaction for that matter, but how does that work? One is the man, one is the woman, or you are both women?” He keeps pressing the next button. “What the fuck are you rambling on about? We are both women asshole so, we both play the woman. Is this insanity really part of your sick twisted fantasy?” She asks annoyed. “Not really. I’m kind of torn really. I did all this research and all this planning. I’m not feeling it. I felt it when I stabbed you in the leg. Maybe I need to do that again?” he questions. “You already broke my heart. What difference would it make at this point?” she asks. “That’s it? You just want me to kill you? No passion, no rage, no god damn fear. How am I supposed to work with that? I mean you want me to stab again? That’s really what you want right now?” He asked confused. “Yeah,” she says. “Jesus Christ,” he screams. “We were supposed to get married, she said she loved me, she said that she wanted kids, and it turns out all of it has been a lie from the start,” she thinks out loud. “What do you want to do about it?” He asks. “I want to kill the bitch. Rip her heart right from her chest. Just like she did to me,” she says intensely.

He walks over to her and begins to untie her. “What the hell are you doing?” She asks. “Well you can’t kill her strapped to a chair now can you?” he asks. “I guess not,” she says stretching her arms. The feeling comes rushing back into her hands. They sting like pins and needles as he unties her ankles. “Sorry, about the leg,” he says in an embarrassed tone. She smiles, “I’d like to say it happens, but honestly this is a first for me.” He smiles back under his mask, “This is a first for me too. I usually don’t relate to the victim so much, but for some reason this time I really do.” They sit and stand there awkwardly for a moment. “So are we really doing this?” She asks. He nods his head yes. “So what is the plan then?” she asks. He lets out a large sigh, “I guess drive over to her boyfriend’s place. We might have to take them out of there. Not sure what the visitor situation is over there. He doesn’t have a roommate or anything so, that is pretty convenient. Do you think you have the will power and the strength to stab her? I mean with your leg and all?” He asked genuinely concerned. She looks down at the bloody mess that is her jeans, “It hurts like hell, but I think I can manage. I’m going to have to change my pants before we go though. The adrenaline has to take over at a certain point right?” He takes the knife out of his pocket, “The adrenaline is the best part. The feel and the rush of it all. Here you are going to need this.” She takes the knife into her hand. “Thank you,” she says looking down at the knife. “Hey, no problem. Again sorry about the,” his words are cut off as she rams the knife into his throat. The knife lodged at an awkward angle from his throat to his spine. His knees buckle from the weight of his own body. He falls down to his knees and she catches him. Supports his weight and hers with the one good leg she has left. “I made a resolution last year too. One I failed at until today, but where does it say you have to complete your resolution before the day ends? It doesn’t. Lucky for me or unlucky for me. Depends on how you look at all I guess I’m not as weak as you are. My resolution was to not follow the rules. Go with what feels right. Go with what feels like me. So thank you for helping me complete my New Year’s resolution,” she pulls the knife out in one swift motion. Blood sprays all over her one clean pant leg. The alarm on her phone starts to go off and she lets him fall to the floor. He digs and scratches at the carpet in agony. She walks over to the kitchen counter placing the knife next to the phone. She swipes the alarm off with her bloody finger, “Looks like you ran out of time to complete yours.” She limps her way to the door dialing the police as she does, “This pants are fucking wrecked and there is no way in hell I am getting the deposit back on this apartment. Fucking asshole. Hello.”

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

You Will All Have Your Turn…

Addiction

It itches and it burns
It’s cracked and it’s torn
The nails rip flesh from bone
I want more, I want more
I want one more
To live and to die
Living and leaving one vice
At a time
You’re young and it’s new
You’re old and it gets old
The damage is done
But the fun has just begun
To live and to die
Only to sit and wonder why
Do you do this to yourself
Because it itches and it burns
It’s cracked and it’s torn
The nails keep digging
But the addiction just keeps going

Now Available On Amazon

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

You Will All Have Your Turn…

501 Reasons

The infection it spreads
Like the virus in my head
Love is loss and loss is expected
Life goes on, if only for a minute longer
Don’t know when to give up
I can feel the human condition
It’s spreading
Down my limbs and into my spine
Everyone wants to know
The reason, the why
No answer is given, no answer to find
This information is deadly
This information can kill
For without this reason
No reason to live
Lost control, control has been lost
If you can’t make your millions
We will surely die off
This information is toxic
This information is unclean
Unholy, whatever it may be
No weapon is greater than
The one inside your head
Your mind left wasted as you go on
Survival instincts weighted down over time
501 reasons you must lay down and die
For your sins and not your crimes

Now Available On Amazon

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Happy Halloween…

What… No horror story?… honestly couldn’t come up with anything more terrifying than the idea that I won’t be back until January…

That’s right… it is that time again… really hope that you have enjoyed these last few months… the stories… the Broken Thoughts… and the rambling… enough about looking back… it is time to go out and get some candy… never too old for free shit…

Pro tip… Take a kid… people ask way fewer questions… Outside of who’s kid is this and what not… unless you already have your own… then you are playing the game on God Mode…

In the mean time enjoy this video… while I figure out what to do with it…

More to come… hopefully… not sure I needed to add more shit to my plate… but fuck it… crazy train is rolling out of the station… good night… and good luck… Hope all is well… I’m out to fucking lunch… see you all in January…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

The Memorial Day Incident

                “Just a little bit further Jason we need to get a good spot for your first parade.” The woman pulls her son through the crowd. The child looks scared and continues to mumble louder and louder after each person he brushes past. “What are you saying Jason?” The mother stops to hear her son in the large crowd. “I raped that little girl and it burns in my mind. I wonder if she even remembers, but she was so drunk she probably doesn’t,” the little boy says. “What are you talking about Jason?” the mother shrieks in horror. “I don’t like the crowd mom can we go back to the car?” “What were you saying before Jason?” “I didn’t say anything before mommy,” the boy says confused. The woman crouches down to be face to face with her son, “Yes you did and you should never repeat whatever it is you just said. You are much too young to be using those words or to even know them.” “What words? Are you mad at me?” The woman stands up and takes her child into her arms, “Never mind, I’m not mad at you sweetie.”  “Can we go back to the car?” the child asks once again. The woman puts him back on the ground. “Yes we can go back to the car,” she says disappointed. “We just have to go back through the crowd. Can you do that?” The little boy nods his head yes and she takes his hand once again. They start to make their way through the crowd and almost immediately he begins to mumble again as he slips by people in the crowd. This time however it is a different woman that hears him not his mother. “What did he just say?” the stranger asks his mother. “Sorry?” she asks the stranger. “What did your son just say to me?” Confused Jason’s mother tells the woman, “Nothing he doesn’t know what he is saying. The crowd is making him very nervous and scarred.” “That’s no excuses for lying about my father like that,” the stranger says in anger. “What?” Jason’s mother asks. “Your little bastard kid just said my dad like to touch me in my sleep and that I liked it. Which is bull shit lady my dad’s a fucking saint.” The crowd around them grows slowly quite to hear what they are saying. “Why is she yelling mom?” “Because she is confused,” his mother says while taking his hand again. “Fuck that I’m not confused your son is just a sick freak.” “Like I said he is scarred and nervous because of the crowd. He doesn’t know what he is saying and you are just making it worse for him.” “I’m making it worse?” the lady says while throwing up her arms. “I’ll show him what worse really is.” The stranger eyes the child as someone steps up to them. “Excuses me is there a problem here?” a uniformed police officer asks the two ladies. “Yes there is her fucking bastard child is making up stuff about my father and me.” “Ma’am the language is not appropriate. He is just a child he probably just doesn’t know what he said.”

The cop kneels down to be at Jason’s level. He places his hand on the child’s shoulder, “Why don’t you just say you’re sorry, and you and your lovely mother can enjoy the rest of the parade.” “I shot him because he was black. I knew he didn’t have a weapon, but I shot him anyways. What’s the world with one less black man? A better place,” Jason says to the cops face. The cop turns a lighter shade of pale, “Excuse me?” “Oh my god Jason I can’t believe you just said that. That is enough,” his mother says while picking him up. “I’m so sorry,” the mother tries to explain to the cop. The police officer ignores her. “That never happened. He had a gun so I shot him,” he says to himself. The crowd grows even quieter as the cop backs away from the mother and child. “Told you the kid was a freak,” the stranger says. “Shut up,” the officer says to the woman. The crowd murmurs while staring at the cop. “So what if he was black?” the cop asks while looking around at the people around him. “A criminal is a criminal and I did what I had to do to protect myself,” the cop mumbles to himself. “Mom I want to go home I’m scared.” Jason puts his head in the crook of his mother’s neck. He buries his head as deep as she begins to speak, “I’m just going to take my son home if that is okay with you officer. He didn’t mean what he said and doesn’t even know what he is saying.” The cop doesn’t look up as he speaks, “That is probably for the best ma’am.”

The mother turns to walk through the crowd once again. Two people in front of the crowd move right out of the way making sure to not touch the child as they pass by. “That’s it,” the stranger shouts before throwing her arms down and walking away. As his mother tries to go around a rather large man Jason’s dangling foot lightly touches the man’s arm. “I buried them under my house. The smell is starting to get to me but in a way I like it,” Jason says. The man has a face of shock as he tries to move away without anyone noticing. Jason mother stops dead in her tracks as someone from the crowd shouts, “Someone get that man.” “Why I’ve done nothing the wrong here,” the man says while trying to push through the crowd that will not move. “Just because a child says something that makes it true?” the man asks the crowd. Jason’s mother sets her son back on the ground, “What did you do?” “I didn’t do anything,” the man says nervously. “This is Officer Johnson, I need back up on the intersection of Fifth and Jackson,” the officer says into his communicator. “Backup?” the man questions out loud. “There’s no need for backup I didn’t do anything.” The officer pulls his gun from its holster, “Please put your hands behind your head.” “Hey, watch it there trigger finger I didn’t do anything.” “Then you won’t mind putting your hands behind your head? I won’t ask again.” “Okay so some crazy fucking kid says something and we’re all going to believe him?” The crowd is still silent as the people behind the man slowly move away. “My son is not crazy. I don’t know what is wrong with him, but he is not crazy.” The man grabs her throat and begins to choke her. “Your son is crazy,” the man grips tighter on her throat, “Fucking say it.” The man pulls her in front of his body as the officer fires two rounds. The two shots hit her right in the chest. The man releases his grip on the woman’s throat as she falls to her knees. Jason’s mother coughs up blood as the officer also goes down to his knees.

The crowd begins to cry out and run in all directions, “Nice job officer dip shit. I guess we will just have to add another innocent death to your list.” Jason has not moved from his spot as he stands there stunned. The large stranger walks up to Jason and grabs him by the shoulders as he raises him high into the air. “Why did you do this you little brat?” the man screams as he shakes the child. Jason begins to cry out a mixture of mumbles and tears. “I sliced her open like she was a deer or some other wild animal.” “Shut up,” the man says as he shakes the child harder. “Put the kid down,” the officer tries to say but the words just fall to the ground. “Another, I fucked her while she bleed out all over my garage floor,” Jason begins to laugh but it is not the laughter of a child. “Shut the fuck up,” the man says as he wraps his powerful hands around Jason’s throat. The man squeezes as hard as he can as Jason fights to say something, “I prefer to asphyxiate my victims and I save it for the special ones.” Too weak to move Jason hangs there as the man begins to shake him once again, “I said shut up.” “Put the kid down,” the officer tries again. The officer rises to his feet, “What’s another dead piece of shit?” The cop fires all of the remaining bullets, but one into the man’s body. The cop takes the burning hot barrel and places it into his mouth blowing out the back of his head. Back up finally arrives on the scene to find all the dead people on the ground.

True fucking story I tell the people across from me. A few of them are my friends and a few of them aren’t.  They even have a name for what happened even though most of the people back home like to pretend it never happened. “What’s it called I’ll Google it right now?” a naïve girl asks from across the fire. “You won’t get any signal out here. We are in the middle of nowhere,” another girl says. “Okay whatever I’ll write it down and look it up later what was it called?” As dramatically as I can be I tell them what it was called. It is called the Memorial Day Incident. “What kind of fucking name for something is that? That stories such bull shit,” the girl says. “No it really happened,” a friend of mine says. “Okay then what happened to Jason?” I start to say something, before being cut off. “I want him to tell me,” she demands. “What happened to Jason? That’s what you want to know?” my friend asks. The girl nods her head, “Yeah what happened to Jason?” “Jason died that’s what happened to him. The large man shook him so hard that his neck snapped,” the friend explains as he looks over at me. “I still think it is all bull shit, but whatever. Who else has an actual scary story to tell?”

More short stories and stories like this can be found in Drinking Bleach… my book of short stories… now available on Amazon… check out some more cool stuff on Threadless… and tell me how much I suck over on Twitter… I feel so dirty… but my doctors tell me I have to eat… and to pay their bills… bunch of quacks if you ask me…