I shut my eyes on this bus ride. Sterling was next to me, hushed by a spirit. He talked to himself some. Outside the windows, I saw one of those men follow the bus.
In the realm you can see them. The Conconosse but we say crackheads. The shadow that most people see running with the car. That's a crackhead that's lost themselves on the street.
Drunks in the first stages.
It's crazy how drugs kill your spirit. You leave a lot behind in this world but to think it leaves you. Like your soul just can't take it and it just leaves.
That's crazy.
I can't help my scratch my chest. I'm not a wolf anymore. I'm normal, I'm drug free, but I can't have my happiness.
We passed a park, a camp, and a pool area. When we get there, we passed the house. The Smiley Residence. "Y'all close yo ears." a nigga shouts. I cover my ears as we pass. The bus stops and the driver covers their ears. "Is the zombie got?" says Ms. Skipper.
A thought randomly came to me. Do people look where they stepped? Do people look where their going? I mean, I think I can see myself. I can see my life path. It's a long road with blue butterflies, it's a trashcan alone the way and a shop to the right of the road.
What does it mean? Well, I don't have a specific color. But I like butterflies and I used to get happy at the kennel knowing a children's book had butterflies mentioned.
A trashcan is useful. You throw things away you don't need. Things that are clutter, nasty, extra. A trashcan is good to have.
Shops have many things. Some you don't need and need.
I'm an ok person. I look at Sterling looking at me. He doesn't have his ears covered. "I wanna die."
I furrow my brow. "I'm sick. I'm nasty. I told black to stop breeding. I give up racist because… I saw my mom in the store yelling a black woman. She couldn't stop talking about it. She just exploded in the house."
Why do we have to close our ears? "You didn't know?"
I tilt my head. "The Smiley Family is wicked. You pass the house, you hear the screams, it stays in your head. You're haunted."
That's sad.
The factory was about six miles from the house. The busses stopped and Ms. Skipper told us to wait while she went inside the building. I looked over Sterling, there was sign in front of brick wall that surrounded the factory.
The Gougehold Brewing Factory is your portal to adventure of nostalgia. The only vampiric liquor crafted by The Growdens. It's the only liquor a black man can get down with.
That's not true. There was some chatter but I didn't pay it no mind. Ms. Skipper came back with a dark skin man wearing a mask and the bright glow of fluorescent pink orbs.
He walked on the bus and tucked in his wings. It was so hot, a drip of sweat travelled down my forehead.
I ain't wearing weave. "Ok, this is Bobby Wilcox. He works in the factory. Bobby will you do the honors?"
"ǝq ʅʅᴉʍ noʎ uoos puɐ pɐǝp ʎpɐǝɹʅɐ ɯˌI"
He doesn't pull down his mask to talk just look at the heads on the bus. "Bobby will guiding through the factory." states Ms. Skipper.
"noʎ ʅʅᴉʞ oʇ pǝsoddns sˌʇI"
"That's right Mr. Wilcox." she nods. "·ʇᴉ ʞuᴉɹp noʎ ǝʞɐɯ ʎǝɥꓕ ·qoꓩ ɹnoʎ sᴉ sᴉɥꓕ ·pǝʅooɟ ǝq ʇˌuoꓷ"
"We won't be here long. So don't get attached." says Ms. Skipper. Bobby turns his head, he pulls down his mask. He has a row of teeth and cracks on his mouth. "Stop… white bitch…"
Ms. Skipper gawks at him. "Alright. Let's hustle! She claps. Bobby looks at the passengers, "·ǝɹǝɥʇ ʇsoɯʅɐ ɯˌI sʍouʞ pɹoꓶ ·ʞunɹp ʇǝꓨ"
I don't wanna get off this bus…
B U T Y O U W I L L D R I N K
.
.
.
I admit. I had gin and juice before. I get tipsy sometimes. But the definition of a Drunk vamp is a cannibal or a drug addict. And if they recover, you get to be a conscious witch.
I haven't heard of a witch going back to drugs. But I do know, they have a lot of chains in the face. They have tattoos. Some sell drugs, ironically.
At least they asked for help.
Some support the antichrist but you know what else. Secret DOHRCC policy. Witches can't have kids.
None.
There was a copy of the DOHRCC's Restraining order against Mothers. It told that witches could not contact their children after a drunken state and they were labeled as SENSELESS. Appreciatively, Witches are terrible people. Some witches are made through practice.
Then the stereotype is that all Witches are 'Shook'. Again more irony, The Head Witch of Lon Hir High married Attaullah and he's a vampire.
Now I'm sour. My mother is Arab…
"Welcome, Welcome!" a man that came to Bobby's upper arm sped to the entrance with his plaid green and grey double tail coat and black bottoms fitted with black shiney tap… shoes.
Nigga is that Willy?
"I'm so happy for another round of workers!" he puts his hands together. "My name is Seth Halten Growden!"
What!
"I'm Zebedee's fifth son, I have a brother named Ande Ablesen Growden. We are so happy you came today. We here at Gougehold. Love liquor; but I'm not drunk! Also…" he sighs. "We make tea… who likes tea?"
Everyone is silent. I turn my head and catch sight of Shabana. "Today you will receive your mask and maps."
Because I'm finna work. "At Gougehold are workers are separated from Hunter, Mixers, and Drunkmaids and men. Some of you might be drunk, but hopefully not." he giggles. "And some of you may be Mixers or Hunters. Hunters have to look for bodies so that we can have liquor. Sometimes you will be asked to pick up bodies from Plantations. I hear it's more rewarding if your hunter. Are workers do get paid and everyone will receive a sample of money on their way out." he waves his hand to his back. "Now let's go!"
Somebody rose their hand. "How much are we getting'"
Seth halts. "Oh, don't be a money hungry nigger. You get paid when you get paid! Now follow!" Vamps snarl some eyes light up like head lights. I look over at Shabana. She waves at me with energy.
I wave back.