Retribution: The Cure for Agony

Chapter 5: Execute

** Warning: Graphic depictions of violence. **

You know, I do like to suffer in ways you could imagine, but I had to put the bottle away for this one. I needed to focus and take my meds like a "good boy." Ha!

I couldn't be having a mental breakdown when I went to this party, though I'd probably fit in. People always want to erase the shitty reality they are living, such as debt, death of loved ones, poor health, etc. Everyone needs a break, right? Partying is one way to ensure your success in dumping all that responsibility and swimming in a sea of carefree pleasure. That is until you're vomiting out your entrails or have a massive hangover the next day.

To be honest, I understand that I deserved to be haunted by my failures, but I needed to make them atone for what they did by eradicating the reminder. I couldn't think about anything else; I couldn't afford to. It was like the longer I had to wait, the heavier everything weighed—as though I was being crushed—unable to escape my subconscious. It led me to believe most people can't survive the weight of their own guilt and will do anything to escape its stern discipline.

Your daughter just happened to be the first step, Daniel.

She had a lot of questionable "friends"—friends she wouldn't have if you didn't land face first in prison. One of them, Anthony Garcia, was a drug dealer who welcomed me with open arms. Much to my surprise, he let his guard down when he found out I was a friend of Melody's.

"So uh... how long have you known her?" he questioned as I followed him into his dorm. The latch clicked as I closed the door quietly behind me. When I turned around, I watched him amble across the multicolored carpet.

"I've known her for a long time. We just recently got back in touch." In a way, I didn't lie to the man. Despite the fact I had never talked to Melody, I felt like I knew everything there was to know about her. "What about you?"

"I haven't known her that long, but I can tell she has some real potential, if you know what I mean." Anthony glanced at me with wiggling eyebrows as he opened a drawer.

"Uh... no. What do you mean by potential?" I asked in an elevated tone.

"For bein' excellent in the bed, man! You telling me you ain't never tried to hit that?" He pulled out a vape pen and took a drag. Assuming it was wax, I couldn't help but feel irritated by the entire situation. This cunt... I ought to break his legs.

"No, I haven't," I grumbled.

Anthony attempted to pass the pen to me, but I shook my head. He pulled it back to his mouth while maintaining eye contact and an obnoxiously long crackling filled the room, provoking my nose to wrinkle in disgust.

A cloud of smoke left his mouth with a jeer. "Bummer, I thought you were cool."

When he turned his back to me, my face began to burn and I quickly shifted my gaze to the sharp pencil on a nearby table. I knew for him, cool meant being laid back, chill and never questioning the consequences of yielding to peer pressure. As a result of his shallow understanding, of that and Melody, I clenched my twitching hand, refraining myself from stabbing him in the neck.

Not here.

The pen thumped against the bottom of the drawer, pulling my attention away from the table, and Anthony slid it shut. He bent down to pick up a green backpack sitting next to the dresser and said, "We should get goin'."

After exiting the room, we took the stairs at the far end of the hall and passed many loud, obnoxious college kids on the way down. Anthony exchanged a few words with them while I kept walking. I wasn't paying attention, but whatever was said caused Anthony to give them an empty laugh, making me grateful I never did the whole college thing. The idea of willingly subjecting myself to that sort of environment made me sick.