BANG!!!

BANG

I’m sweating profusely. The day is over cast but still the shore is still bustling with beach goers. The tiny brass wheels of the suitcasethunkdown the boardwalk as I approach the pier as I’ve been instructed to do. By now I’ve given up trying to make sense of the past 24 hrs. I’m so exhausted, I’ve almost forgotten that I’m completely naked. This will all be over soonI think. At least that’s what the stranger says.

I proceed toward the end of the pier where my final task awaits. Streaks of tears and mucus run down my chubby cheeks. I’ve always been the emotional type. It’s part of the reason I was picked on in gym class and the main reason I can’t keep a job. The doctors say I’m manic depressant, but what do they know? Mother is the only one who understands me and I’m her special boy.

The phone rings.

“Nice job Milton! You’re doing GRRRRREAT!!” the voice says in that game-show-host kind of way.

“Please! I’ll do whatever you want! Just leave her alone!”

“So far, you’ve proved to be a real trooper and I admire that about you Milton.!” The words drip from the phone like snake venom.

“Isn’t that right MOTHER” the voice growls like a rabid dog. In the back ground a woman screams and I vomit”

“STOP IT…PLEASE…STOP IT! DON’T HURT HER! YOU SAID YOU WOULD’NT…….”

“6431. That’s the code. Now open the suitcase.”

I drop to my knees and begin fumbling with the tiny number wheels. Tears cloud my eyes and I’m running on no sleep.

“Hurry along Milton” the voice growls again. “Mommy’s running out of finger nails”. There’s another blood curdling scream from the other end of the phone.

“MOMMY“ I cry

I cradle the suitcase in my lap and lean against the rail of the pier. I find the first number, the second, the third, and then final wheel clicks into place. The Suitcase opens.

On a normal day, the contents of the suitcase would have seemed strange to me but considering the things I’ve done today, a plastic jug inside a suitcase with a small pistol taped to the side seems as normal as a street sign. Next to the jug of dark liquid, is a bag of Little Debbie powdered doughnuts and an envelope with the letters M I L T O N stamped festively across the seal.

From the contents of this package, this final task feels much worse than the 6 homeless men I dyed green; worse even than the unidentified corpse I dug up and threw into traffic from an overpass an hour ago.

“Are you ready to prove that you really are a special boy?” The voice says, switching again from savage to game show.

“Y..Yess”

“Say it Milton…Say: I’m a special boy”

“I…I’m a special boy” I sob.

“Say it like a man Milton OR I’LL CUT MOMMY TO PIECES AND FUCK HER HEADLESS CORPSE!”

“I’M A SPECIAL BOYYY!!!” This time squealing at the top of my lungs.

“You’ll have exactly 10 minutes to complete the tasks sealed within the envelope. Once you’ve finished, I’ll send Mommy home to you. If you don’t, I’ll kill her slowly…piece by piece. Your time starts now” The call ends. The clock on the screen reads 2:17 P.M.

Through the madness, I haven’t noticed the crowd of beach goers gathering around me. Some of them are joyously documenting the scene via social media.

I tear at the envelope. Photos, several of them, and a stack of three festive cards labeled 1,2, & 3 all spill out onto the deck of the pier. On all fours, I’m scrambling, knees digging into the wood, splinters stabbing beneath my finger nails. My nude skin is scorched red by the sun, especially the parts I’ve always kept hidden. It’s stings like hell but I can’t focus on that now. Like the knights of old, or the hero I am online, I am on a quest to rescue the woman I love. Then I catch a glimpse of the scattered photos and freeze in horror.

A tsunami of self-disgust punctuated by sexual arousal washes over me. There scattered before the world, on the deck of the Jersey shore, is my darkest secret. I know why mother calls me her “special boy” and now everyone else does too. How the stranger got the pictures is inconceivable, and he’s been watching me for some time. It has been a long time since I’ve given into her advances. The therapy is helping and until now, I thought maye I didn’t need her anymore. I guess you don’t know what you have until someone threatens to take it away from you. The onlookers don’t know what they are seeing but they sense the gist.

“Shit’s fucking sick bro” says one guy.

“What the fuck’s the matter with you” says another

I’m running out of time and force myself to tune them out. I need to focus. Just like before, the cards are banded in exact order of what’s expected. For the first “Mission”, I tried to cheat. This resulted in a horrific phone call from the voice torturing a screaming woman who I believe to be my mother. The instructions were to be taken literally. Dying someone green meant exactly that: find a person (in this case, 6 people) and dye them green. The homeless were an easy target.

Card 1: DYE YOURSELF GREEN

From the dark liquid in the suitcase, I know someone, or something will again be dyed green. To learn that I myself was to be the victim came as some relief. I don’t see any homeless people around and there’s no way I’m pouring dye on any of the onlookers without getting my ass kicked. I unscrewed the cap and begin dousing the green liquid all over my body.

My skin is already on fire from the sun and the chemical in the dye feels like salt on an open would. My cries bring laughter from the onlookers who have obviously grown in numbers. Once I feel sufficiently covered, I toss the container and check the clock: 2:20. Shaking, I proceed to the next card.

Card 2: EAT All THE DOUGHNUTS

I cringe at this one. Powdered doughnuts are my second guilty pleasure. Mother shames me and flogs me with the “No No Stick” if she catches me eating them but it doesn’t stop me. On Sundays when Mother passed out watching Joel Olsten, I sneak to the basement where I keep my stash. I hide them in a box marked Billy’s Things where Mother dares not go looking. I’m not sure who Billy is, but mother hits me with the “No No Stick” and makes me sleep in the scary garage if I ask about him. In reality, I think Billy is my dad. I wear his motorcycle vest in the basement sometimes when no one is looking.

The explosion of sugary goodness almost makes me forget I’m naked and green in public. I once ate four bags of these bad boys in one sitting. One bag is nothing. Guess the madman doesn’t know everythingI chuckle. The clock on the phone reads 2:23. I’ve only got 4 minutes so I start shoveling.

The crowd is laughing again and begins cheering me on. The powdered sugar turns to chalk in my mouth making it hard to breath. I motion toward one of the onlookers holding a beer and he gladly hands it over while taking a selfie. I finish the bag with no problem and

smash the beer can on my head and the crowd erupts. The feeling is absolutely exhilarating. For the first time I can remember, I feel cool. It’s something I’ll never forget. I can’t wait to see what more he the madman has in store for them next! I pull the third and final card and my blood runs cold.

Card 3: SHOOT SOMEONE

The pistol. How could I forget? It was the first task since this nightmare began that I’ve been asked to hurt someone. The clock reads 2:26. The crowd is still cheering and I’m beginning to feel suffocated. The onlookers have gotten so loud I can barely hear myself think.

Heart pounding, and time running out I reach into the suitcase without thinking and wield the small revolver toward crowd. I must pick a target. I MUST, or Mother will die and that is not an option. I focus my aim on a large woman eating nachos who’s yet to realize the danger she’s in. BANG. The woman screams bloody murder but doesn’t go down. How could he have missed? I use my other hand to steady the weapon and pick another target, this time the guy that gave me the beer. BANG. The guy goes down, but I can’t tell if it’s because of the bullet or the force of the surging crowd.

People are screaming and diving over the railing. Some lie wailing over the bodies of loved ones trying to protect them from the horrible onslaught. Time is running out and I pick another target. BANG. Nothing…BANG…. firing frantically now at anything and everything. DIE YOU FUCKERSI scream through tears in my eyes. BANG. MOMMMY!!!” BANG.

The phone rings.

“I SHOT THEM….. I SHOT THEM….I SWEAR TO GOD I SHOT THEM!!!” I say uncontrollably.

“Milton?”……A freezing fist tightens in my gut. Despite the screams of the crowd and the gunshot ringing in my ears, the voice of my mother volts through me as if I’m made of pure copper.

“What in God’s name are you talking about Milton? Have you lost your mind?”

“MMM….MMMM” is all I can muster

“What? Speak up Milton. Have you been watching that euro crap on TV again? Guess we’re

gonna have to do something about that aren’t we?” she says, as rancid as ever.

“Anyways, Milton I have TERRIBLE news. Someone stole my car while I was in church. Can you believe that? Got my phone and umbrella too, the bastards. I know good and damn well it was one of those Mexicans I saw outside the Dollar General on Broadway. I’ve already given their description to the police” she said matter-of-fact.

“Just when I think the world had run out of decent men, the Lord sent me an angel in the form of this nice gentlemen here who happened to be visiting our congregation for the first time on this blessed day. He’s has offered to take me home. I’ve told him all about you and….. Milton what in the hell is all that racket!?”

There are sirens now and men ordering me to get on the ground.

“Anyways I’m calling from this mans phone to let you know I’ll be late for dinner. Go ahead and wash up. I’ll be home within the hour. Oh, and Milton, this nice man wants to speak to you. DO NOT EMBARRASS me do you understand. Here he is:”

“Millllttton” The dripping gameshow voice again as if selecting a lucky audience member to COME ON DOWN.

“I just want to know” he says, changing gears again from joyful to ravenous “that there is no need to worry about your mother. She is going to be just fine. I’ll make sure of it….Oh, and Milton, you really are aSPECIAL BOY.”

I finally break. Without even realizing it, the gun is already to my head and I pull the trigger…..BANG.

WRDL News Channel 3:

A man fired 7 blank rounds into a crowd of onlookers today at the McDaniel Pier near Atlantic City NJ before being subdued by police.

The shooter has been identified by the Atlantic City Police Department as 35-year-old Milton J Barry of Williamstown, NJ

Witnesses say that Barry was giving what was thought to be an art exhibition on the McDaniel Pier when he produced a gun and began firing into the crowd. Authorities say the gun was loaded with .38 caliber “blank” bullets which are often used for theatrical purposes.

Barry is currently in police custody awaiting…………..

No one will ever believe me.

Submitted October 06, 2018 at 02:33AM by Trashman4 https://ift.tt/2y26XZ5