You’ve never really lived until you’ve seen the life leave another human being. That’s what I wish I would have told my narcissistic Aunt and Uncle whenever they came by my mother’s apartment in the ‘Loin. “Slumming in the ‘Loin” is what I’d called it. They’d only come by to brag about their latest extravagant vacation. I was only 10 at the time, though. You’ve never really lived until you’ve seen the Eifel Tower. You’ve never really lived until you’ve taken a helicopter ride along the coast of Hawaii. My mother was ill most of my childhood. Not ill as in cancer or a debilitating disease like multiple sclerosis. She was sick in the head. She did the best she could for my sister and me while dealing with her bi-polar outbursts and her schizophrenia. My father had left us the year prior. Not that he was a stabilizing force in our lives. His idea of being a father meant thanking us for fetching him the glass pipe. And her pompous fuck of a brother and his whore wife had the audacity to rub their good fortune in our faces. Almost dangling the hint of a happy childhood in front of us – and then snatching it away at the last second. If I only knew at 10 years old what I know now.
Mother always told us to relish in their stories and use our imaginations to fly away and pretend we were actually there. It must have been easier for her considering the amount of medications she’d ingest on a daily basis. My sister, Libby, who was eight at the time, took great pride in knowing when to distribute her pills. She wanted to make sure and have them ready before the alarm went off reminding Mother it was time for her medication.
Libby was such a sweet girl until she was raped. One of Mother’s doped-up boyfriends, Doug, felt he wasn’t receiving enough attention from Mother so he forced the attention from Libby. I witnessed most of the assaults from Libby’s closet and burned with rage – a rage I didn’t know how to manage. I’ll never forget the blank expression on her face when he would pull her panties down. Her eyes became vacant as if she purposely left her body to escape the realization of what was happening. Her vacant stare. If I only knew then what I know now. The closet is the only place I feel I can collect my thoughts and pretend the life I was forced into wasn’t real. I stole grease paint from a construction site and painted a giant eye in the back of the closet. It was the only time I could feel noticed and appreciated. I had to figure out a better way for that attention. National attention. You’ve never really lived until you’ve seen the sunset in Spain.
They weren’t so pompous with their hands and feet tied up. They weren’t so eager to brag about their lives while being stripped naked. I always knew my aunt had a great set of tits. Her nipples were inviting and my mouth watered, but this wasn’t about that.
“Why are y-you do-doing this?” she asked with a frightened stutter.
Uncle James was coming out of the baseball-bat-induced daze I gave him when I knocked him to the ground. I placed the plastic bag over his head and watched him struggle. Aunt Melanie panicked when she fully realized they were going to meet their maker; whoever that was. His eyes fluttered and his chest released the last gasp of air.
“Open your eyes, fucker!” I yelled.
He convulsed before the gurgling sounds ended. Yes! No more vacations for you! Why didn’t I do it eight years ago when I was 10? Then I could have seen the joy in Mother when I told her they were dead. My buddy Meyers would have loved it!
I turned my attention to my aunt who sobbed uncontrollably or as best she could with a gag in her mouth. The adrenaline in my body was intoxicating. Unlike her pussy of a husband who closed his eyes, this bitch was going to see me kill her. I saw the small box cutter sitting on the table and grabbed it. She had lost consciousness from the shock. This should wake her up.
I pulled the skin from her eyelid down and placed the razor just below her eyebrow and began the incision. How much pressure will it take to slice off an eyelid? My inexperience made for an uneven slice. I’m so much better at it now. The sting from the carving woke her up but she was still powerless. A very carnal moan permeated from deep inside her. After the second eyelid was intricately sliced off, I wiped the blood away with her blouse. I chuckled at the fact that the elasticity of her skin reminded me of peeling off one of those fruit roll-ups. Mother used to give those as treats when Libby and I first started school.
I placed the plastic bag over her face and squeezed at the base of her neck. She was resigned to her fate. You could almost hear the fear in her eyes. She took her last labored breath and her chest was still. Oh, the vacant stare. Yes, you’ve never really lived until you’ve seen the life leave another human being…