Note to Self



This is the first chapter in my story of criminal deviance and kidnapping. Unfortunately, this story reflects the insanity of our times.

Waking to the noise of the kids in the car, I curse myself.  Why in God's name didn't I bring them in the house and show them their rooms and bathrooms?  '4RKARMA's got to be filthy with their shit and piss, probably vomit.  It's an royal pain in the ass, but I'm going to clean that car inside and out, erasing any sign they were there.

I stumble toward the kitchen, roaring, "Shut the hell up!"  Now they're screaming, wanting their mama.

Pitiful, these boys, but I need coffee before I deal with them.  Yes, relax and think.

Why the hell did I end up with Greg?  He's a perv, I knew that when we got together.  Didn't care at the time.  Kinda kinky, I thought, interesting.

I've always loved 'interesting,' so that's probably why I'm in this mess with him.  Note to self-leave tomorrow.  This is really just too weird. 

I married Greg at the courthouse last month, thought it would be fun-you know, having kids around.  I knew we'd have to take them, but tried not to think about it.

All these screams are getting on my nerves, but I'm only on my 2nd cup, so they'll have to wait-I'm good at blocking things out.  Anyway, what's one more hour? 

After my coffee's done, I go to the junk drawer to find the duct tape.  I can't stand the shrieking.  I've got to silence them before bringing them in.

The door hinges to the garage are noisy with rust, so my entrance will be announced.  Oh well, I'm sure they're hoping I'm their mama, coming to save them.  Too bad.

Opening the trunk, I can only see their eyes-it's so dark in this damned garage.  But that's the way Greg likes it when he's not around.  He hates waste of any kind. 

Shrieks have  limped into moans and muttering, I'm relieved.

I reach for the light switch, snap it on.  The boys look afraid and confused.  I'll bet.  So am I.

I  take the little one first, the one who's been making the most noise, I think.  He wiggles so much, I have to squeeze him hard to get him safely in the house.  I settle him in the Lazyboy, he'll have to stay there while I get his brother.  This one isn't so much trouble, he seems frozen in fear.  They're in, finally.  And Greg's not due to come home until around dinner time.  Thank God, he wouldn't like the way I'm doing this, and I don't give a rat's ass.

The boys aren't even moaning any more, so I guess the duct tape isn’t needed.  First, I take them together to the bathroom, allowing them to do their business.

The morning sun floods the hallway, I notice as I wait.  So bright.

I hear a flush and running water.  Then again, whimpering.  I remember there are no towels in there.  Can't they just wipe their hands on their pants?    Then I realize they are so young, they probably don't even know that's an option.  Reaching for a towel in the side closet, I hand it to the older one.  Their faces, unreadable.  "Boys, it's time to go to your new rooms, okay?"  They look at one another, obviously confused, timid.  But they follow without a word.

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There's more where that came from!