Sunday, December 18, 2011

The story of a lazy man

I came home to find my sister lying on her face in living room. When I walked up the steps, I could only see the top of her head, hair splayed out in front. Blood had soaked into the carpet by then and I wondered if she had drowned in it or died from the gunshot instead.

The paramedics had been swift and arrived two hours after being called. Their lights were bouncing off the apartments next door like a lopsided disco ball decked out for the 4th of July. My brother called the police when the shooting started, but they hung up when he gave our address. I told him it had been worth a shot. Last week, the cops had showed up when Danny's mom was stabbed over by CVS.

After they took her body away, a man in a pinstripe suit squatted next to me. I looked up from the blood crusted carpet and found his face. He reached his hand out to my shoulder, smiled, and said, "You're not doing well in school and I think it's because you have no work ethic. I want you to come to school early tomorrow and scrub the toilets in the locker rooms before class."

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