A new one!

[woodenhorsey]

Chicken Salad Sandwich
By: David McGhee

The Sunday sun was beaming down on the quiet little suburb in Littleton Colorado. Kids were playing on the streets. Less than attentive parents either watering their prize worthy yards or in their houses constantly yacking away on their cell phones. A car rolls around every few hours or so. Sixteen year old Andy Rickman lays on his bed in his room on the second story of his mom's three bedroom mc-mansion. Staring at the white color scheme of his room he thinks about how bored he is. Just thinking about how bored he is is even more boring than being bored himself. He gets up to look out the window. Nothing exciting he thinks. Just a few younger kids playing street hockey and a little old lady is watering her lawn on the other side of their cul-de-sac.
Strange. He thinks to himself. When did she move into the neighborhood? He runs his hand through his brown mop topped hair and goes for the door. He walks down the stairs and finds his mother in the kitchen.
"Who's the new old lady across the street?" He asks her as he reaches for an apple off the fruit basket on the dinner table.
"Who?" She asks while holding a cell phone to her ear. "What are you talking about?" The voice on the other line seems to race and blur. "No not you!" She speaks sternly into her cell. "No, I've got your full attention. Yes I think that would be great. The jury can't possibly convict him now." She walks past Andy. Along the way she pats him on his left shoulder and proceeds to the living room. Andy scoffs and sits down at the table.
Every day seems to get harder and harder for him. Ever since Dad left, his mom has been all work. She's noticing him less and less. He's merely becoming another one of her prized possessions that gets showed off at her adult parties with her lawyer friends. In fact she's so busy she doesn't even keep count of her vicodens. Something he has for the past year or so have been profiting on considerably at his school. He also keeps a few for himself in the process. He hasn't gone a single day in months without a few crushed into his chai tea in the afternoon. Though he had little worry that he was addicted by now. His mom would always have them, and he will always have access to them. She gets tons from her "Dr Feelgood" down in Lakewood. She barely even notices when he takes one too many with a few shots of vodka from her liquor cabinet.
Andy walks into the first floor bathroom and throws the apple core into the trash. He urinates then washes his hands. Gazing into the mirror he notices that the circles around his eyes are especially dark today. He doesn't really mind but there is a little worry that he looks like a junkie or something. He's always been a little pale. So it's not that big of a deal. He gets on top of the toilet to reach the top of the medicine cabinet. He's been hiding his bag of pills there for a while now. His mom's too short to reach it even with assistance and he's not that big either, but he's just enough to snag it with his first two fingers. Pulling it off the shelf he gets back down and locks the bathroom door. He pulls out each pill and counts them. He's collected more than fifty of the little white wonders. He took eight of them and tied the plastic baggie back into a knot and put the pills in his pocket. He gets back up onto the toilet and puts back the bag. He walks back out to the kitchen and gets himself a cup of water. thirty seconds in the microwave and he adds a chai tea bag. six big spoons of sugar. He lays three vicodens on the counter and he smashes them with a spoon then wipes the dust into the cup. Stirs, and... Viola! Sleepy tea as he calls it. He casually drinks it as he makes his way to the front door. His skater shoes are so worn that the right shoe's heel is worn through, exposing his skinny ankle. After putting them on he runs back to the kitchen real quick to transfer the half drunken sleepy tea into a small styrofoam cup and heads back out the front door.
The mission is simple enough. Mrs Edengburg from down the street pays a good three dollars per pill. She called his cell earlier requesting just a few. He's got buyers all over the place. The bad kids at school pay more for them. Mostly because kids have a harder time getting prescribed pain killers, therefore they're more valuable to them.
As he's walking from his house he sees the new neighbor in her yard. Her white hair reflects the sun and looks badly burnt. Yet she's smiling and waving to Andy. He doesn't return the wave but he does stop for a second. Two of the kids that were so engulfed with street hockey are now helping her with her yard. That's odd he thinks. The rest of the kids clear the street and walk toward her house as she heads back inside. They stand there for a minute or two until she comes back out with some sandwiches. The kids ravenously devour the halves and she smiles and nods. Patting each one on the head as they eat contently. Once again she waves to Andy who just shakes his head and continues walking. Working for sandwiches? That's stupid he thinks to himself. Mom can't even get him to mow the lawn without the promise of at least ten bucks. Ten bucks and some burger king... Or pizza! But not a dinky sandwich. Those kids are dumb. That's why they're kids. He smiles at this thought and heads down the road.

Another happy customer. And a bright and crisp new $20 bill in his pocket. $5 more than he thought he'd get. Edenburg didn't have change so he lucked out. Maybe he'll get something off Ebay. Or wait out till he got a little more and buy new shoes. Maybe a new game would also cool to hold out for.
As he walked back to his house he noticed that there must be half the neighborhood at the new lady's house. He finishes off his cup and hurls it into someone's yard he's passing by. He walks to her yard and stares at the masses eating her sandwiches.
"What's going on?" He asks a man standing by her door.
"Oh..." He swallows his bite and takes another, food spitting from his mouth. "We're here to help out a little with her yard."
Andy raises his right eyebrow (A talent he prides himself on) and shakes his head. "How can you all be helping her out by standing on her grass?" He asks. The man looks down and finishes his last bite.
"Um, we're gonna help. Actually I'm just here for the food. But I'd do anything for another one of these things!" He wipes his mouth with his shirt, revealing a less than taught middle aged spread. Andy walks away from the crowd and goes back to his house across the street. His mom is on the couch watching the news while enjoying a styrofoam cup of wine. He notices it has two ice cubes in it.
"Classy." Andy laughs as he sits down on the recliner adjacent to the couch. The sleepy tea is working, but not as much as it used to. It takes three instead of two to make him even feel the effects. His mother looks over at him then her gaze fixes back toward the new 20" flat screen hanging on their wall like a moving picture frame. She takes another sip then jerks her head back toward Andy. Her head is having a tough time balancing itself on her neck.
"Did you finish your homework?" She asks making small talk. Before Andy could answer she swings back toward the front of her. Andy is disgusted and gets up. He takes one more look at her and stomps up the stairs. He hates her for doing that to herself. Un-attentive workaholic by day / Lush supreme by night. Even though he takes pills too he doesn't consider himself anywhere near as bad as her. Yet he hates the thought that keeps coming to his mind when he thinks about how much he hates her. He is just like her. He loves getting drunk and high... But she's supposed to be the responsible one dammit! She should be making dinner, helping him with his homework (Like Dad used to do), and tucking him in at night. Although he's a little old for it now, but damn he never got the privileges all the other kids had with their "LOVING" families. Fuck them. Fuck everyone! He thinks as he closes his room door and secures the home made dead bolt. He sits at his desk and moves the computer mouse to his desktop. Not a laptop like all his friends have, but a dinky stupid two year old desktop! No online shooters for him. Unless there were anyone out there hopeless and poor enough to have the previous versions. He's mad at the world at this point. The world gave him a shitty life and a shitty mom and a shitty computer in a shitty house in shitty Littleton Colorado.
"Fuck them..." He says to himself and checks his myspace page.

About an hour later he decides to take make a very strong sleepy tea. It wasn't like he had school tomorrow (Which he does). He'd miss first and second period and make up the work in detention. Ironically for being caught with one of his mom's vicodens. The school left numerous messages on her phone and she's returned none of them. Why should she care anyway? It wasn't like he knew he was gonna get caught and have to force her to talk to him for once. It was half him wanting attention and half his self unrealized addiction. He secretly hoped he'd get in trouble. Have her take away something or scold him or what he hoped most would happen... For her to sit him down and tell him that she's there for him on this. That she'll help him anyway she can if he just give it up. She'll be there for him. But no! She didn't so much as even acknowledge him that afternoon. She probably didn't even recognize the number from the school and erased the messages. Most likely scenario. He grabs his cell phone and puts it in his pocket and half walk runs out his door down the stairs.
The TV is still on and his mother is passed out with the remote in her hand. He grabs it out and turns it to the pay per view on demand screen. He picks out a movie from the horror section and looks through the choices. He settles on Cabin Fever and pauses it. He makes his way to the bathroom and once again does the door lock, grab, take, and tea routine that he's got down to an art. This time the idea isn't to get all flootey headed. He's competing against his mom for most knocked out dummy in the living room title. So he crushes up eight of the white pills and adds eight spoon fulls of sugar to counteract the bitterness. As he walks to the living room he takes his mom's half filled cup of wine and takes three big sips. His face puckers and he nearly gags on the first sip. Yet as it is he gets used to the taste on the third one. It's not a lot but it's enough to magnify the response. He sits down on the recliner and hits the start button. He takes the rest of the wine and gets another good two sips out of it before it is empty. He rests and watches the movie about the flesh eating virus killing off preppy assholes.
I was punk... He thinks to himself. Paraphrasing Hole. But now I'm stupid and I'm aaaaaaaaawful. It takes no more than fifteen minutes before he's nodding and falling out of the recliner. I've got less than a few minutes he thinks to himself when he isn't falling down.

His cell phone rings and it jerks him awake. His mother also gets up and reaches into her pocket for her cell phone. As soon as she sees that it's Andy's she falls back asleep. The movie is almost over and he's mad at himself for not enjoying the high and movie. He grabs his cell phone from his pocket and looks at the screen. He doesn't recognize the number but at 11:29pm it can only be someone wanting some vicoden goodness.
"'ello?" He asks. Rubbing his left eye with one hand.
"Oh, hello?" An old lady says in a sugary voice. "Is this Mr White?" That's code for his operation. She waits patiently on the other end while Andy decides whether or not to answer back. He figures it to be a trap but plays with it. If it's the cops they have nothing. Only the testimonial of pill poppers and delinquent teenagers. He wraps up the pills for new clients in a triple wrapped balloon and holds it in his mouth. So if he gets caught he just swallows it and hurrah! No evidence of bad doing. Plus he could either throw it up or go the other way to retrieve the goods.
"Yeah?" He finally answers after a moment.
"Oh hi dear! I'm Miss Dunnaway from across the street. I saw you today but I suppose you didn't see me. I waved at you!"
"Oh. I must of not noticed." He lied. "Who..."
"Mrs Edenburg told me of your product and I have arthritis ever so bad, but they won't give me as many as I would like you see. I'm prepared to pay $5 a pill and a little extra for you being such a good little man for me." Even over the phone her warmness is coming through like a blow dryer. He seems to feel absolutely no suspicion now toward her. He feels as if she knows her and this makes him smile. A friend? He can't help but feel re-energized.
"How many ma'am?" He asks. Smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"Oh I don't know... How many do you have sonny?"
Andy chuckled. Was she serious? Sonny? Who talks like that anymore. "About oh... Twenty five or so." He fudged a bit so he could still have some for himself. "5/500's and they are name brand."
"You're just a little angel of mercy now aren't you?" She laughed. Andy smiled. He already knew that he was going to like her. No wonder half the neighborhood was at her house today. This lady is cool. "Could you come over in about an hour and forty minutes? You probably want to rest a bit or watch a movie don't ya."
Andy stared at the TV and for the first time in the conversation he got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his bowels. "Yeah..." He replied softly. The movie was just under an hour and thirty minutes, leaving him time to re-watch it and five minutes to package the pills and a little to take his time getting over there.
"Oh good. I'll see ya then. Come in through the back so we don't raise suspicion now ok?" The phone beeped signaling her dispatch. Andy got up and looked over at her house from the living room window. She was staring through her window and was waving to him. Andy hesitated then waved back at her. The lights on the bottom portion of her house went off and she seemed to disappear in the shadows. He sat back down and restarted the movie.
Talking to her made him feel great at first. Then he got the scariest feeling he's ever had. It doesn't make much sense... He started to smile when he remembered the deal. $5 per pill plus a fee for being a nice "Sonny".

As he opened the front door the lights across the street came back on. He walked around the the back like she said and looked for a back door. There was none.
"Wha?" Andy sighed. He looked around on the other side of the house and there was still no sign of any doors. When he got himself around to the front door and was tempted to knock on it. He stopped himself and walked back to the back yard. All the lights were on now. Where do I bring it to her? His heart was racing. Nothing! There are windows but no door.
"I thought all of these pre manufactured homes had back doors?" He asked himself.
"Oh not this one." Miss Dunnaway replied. Andy turned around and almost screamed. He made jerky movements looking at her then to the house then back toward her.
"How?"
"Oh I was just out already. Fresh air is good for an old gal like me." Her face was warm and inviting. Her arms crossed and she was in a very modest light blue nighty. Andy just stood there. Not sure what he was feeling. She had captured him in a sense with her presence. It was almost like staring at a really beautiful piece of art. A painting so vibrant that it almost looks real.
"Well are you going to be my angel now and sell me those pills?" She almost laugh spoke. Andy broke his trance and reached into his pocket. He didn't bother wrapping them. He just had a feeling this wasn't a trap. He handed her the pills in a ziplock bag. Twenty five of them. The bag was dusty on the inside. One pill was broken on the bottom and very visible to them.
"Sorry about that..." Andy blushed. She paid no attention to him and examined the bag. She looked back up and smiled at him again. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to shine right through him. He smiled and put his hands in his pocket. They stood there for a moment in the still air.
"Here's the money." She reached into her nighty and pulled a hundred dollar bill and two fifties from inbetween her breasts. "I hope it brings you good tidings." Andy was almost hesitant to take it from her. For one it was quite a bit more than promised. And two, she already felt like a loving family member or long time friend. He didn't feel right.
"Oh take it!" She scoffed. Andy felt something surge through him as she said this. Almost felt like his heart skipped a beat. He reached for the money and put it in his pocket. She began to smile and put the zip baggie inbetween her breasts where they disappeared.
"Would you like a sandwich young man?" She offered. "I make a mean chicken salad sandwich as you've probably figured out.
"Nah." Andy answered. "I'm really not that hungry." In fact he was getting nauseous from the sleepy tea. He was starting to get a narcotic head ache to boot.
"I insist young man." She kept trying. "You're skin and bones! And as thin as I am." This was something that usually made him angry. He HATED being reminded of how little he was, but her saying felt more motherly than some doofus at school.
"Nah seriously ma'am. I'm ok." He smiled.
"Are you sure?" She asked again. "What about one to take home?"
Andy felt uneasy. He looked to the back of him beyond the house to his and looked back. "I uh... I better get going actually." He lied. "My mom will probably notice I'm gone sooner or later." He began walking when she called out to him.
"She's passed out though." She countered.
Andy stopped in mid walk and looked back to her. "What?" There's that feeling again!
"I mean, it's almost 1:00am in the morning you know." She reasoned. This explanation still didn't sit well with him. His gut growled and his heart raced. He turned around and walked back to his house. He looked back and took a look at her house. The lights turned off a moment after. Andy went back inside and sat on the couch next to his comatose mother. As he was taking off his shoes and suddenly had a thought. How did she turn on the house lights if she was outside the whole time? Or for that fact, turn them off? He was pretty sure she wasn't married or had seen anyone else living there. The dreadful feeling intensified.

Andy's alarm clock went off as set the next morning at 5:45am sharp. He awoke and got out of bed. He didn't remember being naked but then again last night sort of got consumed by the vicoden. His head was pounding and he quickly got dressed and headed for his stash. His mother had already left. How she ever got up after nights like last night he'll never know. He looked into his baggie and wondered why so few were left. Then he remembered about the night before. The sale to the old lady across the street. That strange old lady who could make him feel welcome and hated all in the same look.
After he ate a hearty breakfast consisting of one apple he went back upstairs to take a shower. As he did so he kept thinking about the lights at her house. How weird. As he was getting toweled off he flexed his bony arm for the mirror and smiled mockingly. Then he sighed and got dressed. He grabbed his messenger bag and headed for the door. When he opened the door and headed out he noticed a couple of firemen outside Miss Dunnaway's house. They were eating something. Andy stopped and looked for a few minutes. Trying to figure out if something bad happened. A cop car pulled up and he started to walk away as fast as he could when he heard her voice call for him from across the street.
"Andy! Sonny come over here why don'tcha?" She yelled to him, her right arm waving warmly to him. He hesitated and held his breath. Bracing for the worse. As he stepped onto her lawn two cops emerged from their car. They walked right passed him and came up to Misses Dunnaway. She hugged them both and went back inside. The two cops began chatting with the firemen. Andy almost decided to head the other way when she emerged from her front door with more sandwiches. The two cops were exchanging pleasantries with her as they took the sandwiches.
"I'd like you to meet an honorable young man here!" She pointed and motioned for Andy to come closer. "His name is Andy and he's a doll ain't he?" One of the policemen whistled seductively at him and the firemen held out their hands to shake his. He did so and stood uncomfortably next to the firemen and policemen. His heart was pounding a mile a second all during this very uncomfortable moment.
"I uh... I gotta get to school now." Andy broke from the group and started walking as fast as he could without actually running. What the hell was that? Why are firemen and cops at her house? What the hell is going on here!
"What a nice boy." Miss Dunnaway says to herself. The other five men around her still munching away and chatting it up. She looks toward them and smiles. "Who here wants to do me a little favor hmm?"

School seemed longer than normal. Andy walked down the packed hallway of post class teenagers toward the front doors. It was just after the fifth period bell has dismissed, still one more class to go but he just couldn't stay. He was still spooked by what had happened that morning and made it a point of denying to anyone who asked that he was holding. He couldn't risk it. Was that a set up? He thought. Truly he was freaked out. What was worse is that he still wasn't sure whether or not Miss Dunnaway was for him or against him. Either way it was close, too close for his liking. No more selling from now on. He thought. He stopped in his tracks and thought again. Not unless they had tons of money. Not just a few but the amount say Miss Dunnaway bought. He thought of her face and that warm loving feeling enraptured him. Just as soon as it did he began to vomit in the school hallway. The kids started to fan out and scream and gag. A teacher came out and held onto Andy as he was hunched over.
"Let's get you to the nurse." The tall bespeckled teacher said. He grabbed Andy and guided him to the nurses office. "Are you ok?" He asked with sincerity.
"I... Ugh..." Andy did all he could not to barf again. Students stared and whispered as he was led down the hall. Jerks, he thought. Screw them all. He began to dry heave.

He was let go early. No ditching for him. It was only about ten or so blocks home. Not bad. A good walk he thought to himself. He tried not to think about Miss Dunnaway. Every time he did he began to gag. Maybe he was just sick from all those vicodens he took last night. And the wine. Most definitely that probably did it as well. Stupid he thought. I'm always acting stupid. One day he'll wake up and realize he's become his mom. He shivers at this thought. He continues his walk through the neighborhood. As he gets closer to his house he notices Mrs Edenburg's house is taped off and swarming with police and ambulance people. He comes closer to get a better look. What the hell happened here!? What the fuck is going on! He gets up to the tape line and freezes there. Two paramedics are wheeling out a body bag on a gurney. The front door has what looks like a big red hand print on it, a little smeared but definitely a hand print. He gets that cold feeling you get when something majorly bad happens and his knees begin to wobble. His head feels light and he almost passes out. He wants to leave but can't. Things were fine yesterday. What the hell happened?!
"Sir did you know the murder victim?" A microphone pokes toward his face. Andy turns around to see a local news woman staring him down with her cameraman in tow.
"Murder? She's dead!?" Andy feels like vomiting again.
"The entire family sir. What are your feelings about the safety of the neighborhood now that there's been multiple murders?" She says with enthusiasm. A bit too much for him. And says nothing and blankly begins to walk away toward his house. He clutches his messenger bag tightly and tries to walk run. The news lady follows him and keeps asking his opinion until she eyes another resident walking to the lawn. Like a lion she veers off Andy and goes to him. Normally Andy would of welcomed that attention with obscenities but right now... Right now he could barely stand. He wanted nothing more than to just get home.
As he got up to his door he turned around and looked over at Miss Dunnaway's house. She was standing at her door in a long flowing blue dress and a fireman in full uniform was standing right next to her also staring at him. One hand was on a sandwich and he was thoroughly enjoying it, it appeared. In the other hand was... Oh my god he though. He's holding a bloody ax. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and closed his eyes for a second. So hard that when he opened them back up he saw stars. As they faded Miss Dunnaway and her fireman were gone. He felt numb and opened his door. He walked up to his room and fell onto his bed. Bag and all.

It was about 5pm and things just kept getting stranger and stranger. Every time Andy looked out his bedroom window somebody was going into Dunnaway's house. And every time somebody left her house they were carrying a sandwich. He tried to go on his computer and look up anything about the old lady. Nothing came up. Doesn't mean anything though. His name brought up no results either, but still it bothered him. Every time he even looks at her it feels like a dream. Did last night even happen? Did this afternoon even happen? Was this all a hallucination brought on by the alcohol and pills?
Damn lady he thought. I'm out twenty five pills. Although, I do have two hundred dollars to blow. He smiled with the thought and opened his desk drawer to relish in the beautiful sight of his money. He searched through it and started to frantically rip apart the area surrounding. No! NO!!! He grabbed his cell phone and began dialing Dunnaway's number. As he got into the fifth number his Offspring - Beheaded ring tone began to play. That wasn't his ring tone! He hasn't listened to them in years! He looked on the display. It was her.
"Mommy doesn't have a head anymore." They sang. He stared at the phone with great dread. "I keep under my bed on the floor." He answered and a demonic low voice spoke monotonously "That's alright, that's ok. She never used her head anyway!"
"God!" Andy screamed and tossed his phone across his bed. Someone was still singing. That low scary voice was getting louder. He ran over to his phone that was on the floor and picked it up and tried to turn it off, but the voice continued to sing and grow louder. He flung it to his feet and stomped on it till it was in little bitty pieces. His breath now becoming short and hallow he ran to his door. As he was about to run down the stairs he started thinking about the song on his ring tone. He walked back into his room and looked under his bed. Nothing but his porno magazines and BB gun. He ran back out into the hallway and again was about to run down the stairs when a sudden feeling came over him. He looked back at his mom's room and his stomach began to contract again. He dry heaved for a second and began to slowly walk to her room. He put his right hand on the door handle and began singing to himself.
"Mommy doesn't have a head anymore..." He opened the door. "I keep it underneath my bed on the floor..." There was a red smear on the shag carpet leading to underneath her un-made queen sized canopy bed. As he got closer his heart pounded and he became dizzy. A putrid smell that he's never before experienced over whelmed the room. Her cell was on her pillow. He lifted up the sheet covering the bottom and looked under the bed. The smear went clear under it and seemed to go to the other side. He got back up and was feeling chilly and damp. His sweating was magnified by a thousand it seemed.
This is no good. His thoughts racing. No good at all! He walked over to the other side of the bed and saw that the smear led to the closet. The knob on it was also covered in what he hoped to God wasn't blood. He got as close as he felt comfortable going toward it and reached out far with his thin bony arm. He pulled the nob and opened the closet. Nothing was inside but some boxes on the bottom part and a jungle of dresses and other clothes that were so cluttered that he couldn't see the wall. The blood smear went under the boxes and the boxes themselves were soaking in the stuff. He couldn't get himself to get enough nerve up to open the boxes on the floor. Nausea came over him and he took a few steps backward to catch his breath. It was getting harder and harder to breathe with the stench getting worse in the room. He ran to the window and opened it. He saw his mom's car come into the driveway and he ran out her bedroom and down the stairs. He went for the garage door in the kitchen and watched the car pull in.
As she got out she didn't even acknowledge his presence. She got her coat and laptop out of the back seat and walked right passed him. He was shocked and appalled at this scene. He ran back in after her and pulled her toward him as she was just about to take the first step up the stairs. She gave him a look he's never seen before on her. One of pure hate and outrage for him.
"What the hell are you doing?" She snapped. Andy was still catching his breath when her gaze met his. Then down to the side of her white business blouse she was wearing and back. Andy slowly began to look down and realized that his hand was still bloody from the door. She started breathing deeply and raised a threatening hand. "Tell me now!" She growled.
"There's blood in your room!" He cried.
"What? What blood?" Her angry gaze turned into horror. She ran up the stairs and Andy followed. As they entered her room Andy began pointing toward the closet. Ever since he was a kid he let his mom do the hard things for him. Though in later years she'd become a lush and he grew more and more responsible for himself. Not because he was getting older. No. Because she was turning the "Who takes care of who" on it's head with her continued drinking and drugging. She opened the closet and let out a sigh when she saw the boxes. "Damn." She uttered softly. She opened one of the boxes on the floor and looked into it.
"What is it!?" Andy whispered.
His mother reached in the box and pulled out a little severed child's arm. She began smiling and waving it around like a stick. "I totally forgot about these! I need to bring it to Miss Dunnaway. We made a deal." She threw the bloody children's appendage on her bed and pulled out the box. It was dripping blood on the floor as she held it. Andy was completely frozen with fear. He could not stop looking at the horror before him. His mother placed the box on her bed and began to plunder through it. She began tossing body parts out of it onto the floor as if she was going through some old clothes. Andy held his eyes shut like before. Only this time they were so tight they felt as if they'd burst in his skull. When he opened them the scene before him had not changed at all. The limbs and pieces of what looked like children were all scattered across the floor. His mother grabbed what seemed to be a tiny heart and held it up to her eyes. Admiring it. Blood dripped from her hands and she looked back toward Andy.
"Have you tried Miss Dunnaway's sandwiches yet?" She asked with a warm smile. "They're amazing!"
Andy was slowly walking backward shaking his head. NO! NO! He thought. His mother began walking and Andy tried to make a run for it but tripped on his left leg as he was turning around to escape. He screamed as she approached him. As she closed in on him she reached out her free hand and went for Andy.
"I'll be right back sweety." She patted him on his head with her bloody hand. Leaving gore and bits of flesh in his brown mop topped hair.She walked out of the room and Andy was still in the position he laid as when he fell. He shakingly looked back and began to make small high pitched hoots. Sorta like a bird but deeper. He was still in shock. When he finally composed he got up and ran down the stairs.
As he opened the front door he saw Miss Dunnaway across the street waving at him. That familiar nauseous feeling overcame him. His mom was standing beside her, blood all over herself. And of course... She had a sandwich in her hand. Andy's eyes darted between the two when Miss Dunnaway pulled out the small heart from her back and held it up. It began to beat and blood flowed from her hand. She began to laugh though he couldn't hear her from over there. His eyes bugged and were fixed on her hand and it's new little object. He began to scream but his throat by now was feeling too raw to sustain it. He went back in and locked the door behind him. He began crying and fell to his knees. It was all too much. What was he gonna do? Run or stay in the house. He knew calling "911" would be fruitless if this morning was any indication. He had a bike in the garage. Could he make it? Where would he go? He got up and looked back out the window. No one was across the street. Her door was closed and his mother was also gone. Should he do it?
He got up and ran for the garage door in the kitchen. He saw his bike propped up on the wall. He got it down and moved it outside. He looked all around him and saw no one in sight. It gave him an eerie feeling to see the neighborhood so empty. It was still bright out and cloudless. A typical Colorado summer day. Even the wind was absent. He got up on his bike and began peddling. As soon as he got out of the drive way his front tire seized up, flipping him onto the pavement like a pancake. He put his right arm forward to shield himself from the fall. There was a loud cracking noise and his face slid on the asphalt. It ripped skin off the side of his face knocked a few molars loose. He got up, still in shock from the accident. It took only a few seconds for him to assess the damage and let out the most blood curdling scream his lungs would let him bellow.
He ran back into the house and went for his stash at the top of the first floor bathroom cabinet. He stood on the toilet and struggled to snag the baggie from up top. He barely caught it with his middle finger and slid it off and down to the bottom floor tile. He was getting blood every where from the open gash in his face. His right arm dangled uselessly by his side. The pain was un-bearable. The baggie seemed fuller than it did last night, but now was not the time to make a head count on them. He opened it with his left hand and poured them onto the floor. He reached for a handfull and put as many of them as he could into his mouth. Some fell from the side of his mouth as he chewed the dry chalky pills. After a few bites his entire mouth became too dry to swallow them. He stood up and turned on the water. Then he got a cup and filled it. Not minding the mess of pills, water, and blood he was making. With a long good gulp he was able to swallow them. The taste was probably one of the worst things his tongue had ever encountered. He put the glass on the table and reached back down for more pills. There seemed to be more now than when he poured them out now. Again he wasn't about to stop himself to make rational thought. The pain was just getting worse. His arm felt as if it were a ghost appendage. It's there, he can feel it, but it won't do what he's trying to tell it to do! Everything was shit right now! His face was ruined, he had one arm, and everyone in the neighborhood was probably either gone crazy and killing everyone or being killed! Hopelessness overcame him after his second mouthfull. He could easily end it now.
I mean... He thought to himself. Would it be worth it to try to escape? He tried to push it out of his head but the urge was too strong. He could easily mix what he's just consumed with alcohol. And his mom had a full prescription of Ultrams and Ativans in the cabinet. He sat on the toilet and began crying his head off. The tears mixed with the gash on his face, causing him more pain. He got up and tore off the medicine cabinet door. He looked into the mirror on front of it and screamed! He hadn't just cut his face. He mauled it! He flung it to the floor and the mirror smashed all over the tiles. He grabbed the two bottles and put them into his jean pocket. He wasn't sure he was going to go through with this. He knew that even though he "PROBABLY" took a few too many pain killers it wasn't enough to kill him. If he got to a hospital quick he'd be ok. Maybe it was worth it. The streets were empty after all. He could run it!
He turned and started to run out of the bathroom into the living room. As he did so his right arm flung back and forth and caused him pain so intense that he nearly passed out. He also couldn't stop tearing and his face didn't seem to get used to the salty water mixing with the viscous blood. He stopped to catch his breath and his swinging arm. He held himself for a moment. Only a few minutes but he already started to feel the effects of the vicodens. He knew chewing them gave you an almost instant high. Now he was wishing he didn't go over board with them. His head was starting to spin ferociously. He didn't have much time. He opened the front door and began screaming.
What looked like every man, women, and child was standing before him. Sandwich in one hand and weapons in the other. Children were carrying forks and knives and other small sharp utensils. Women with small lawn care shovels and butcher knives and such. Men were carrying the real guns, literally! His mother was right in front with a big wooden stick. They all stood in uniform lines and were smiling at Andy. The crowd started parting in the middle and Miss Dunnaway walked over the grass and to the front of the mob scene. Her flowing blue dress and arresting eyes made Andy feel as if nothing had happened to him. He was feeling peaceful and numb. His floating feeling head began to clear up. She was absolutely glowing.
"Honey." She said calmly in her motherly way. "Are you sure you aren't hungry?" She lifted a plate with one of her sandwiches toward Andy. He reached for it and grabbed a half. He looked at it for a second then back toward his mom. She nodded and the crowd began nodding with her in unison. He looked back to the sandwich in his left hand. Then back toward Miss Dunnaway. He was about to take a bite when some blood from his face dripped onto his slice. He began blinking and looked around at the crowd. At his mother. At Miss Dunnaway. Back to the blood stained sandwich. Then back toward his arm. A lighting bold of pain shot through him and he dropped the sandwich and began screaming in pain. The crowd began screaming and raised their weapons for attack!
He ran back inside and slammed the door. He locked it and ran for the kitchen. His mother put the liquor supplies in the freezer (Making it very easy for him to access) and pulled out a near full bottle of top shelf vodka. He put it on the counter and had a tough time trying to unscrew the top. He almost had it when it slipped off the marble counter top and slid onto the floor. Breaking glass all over the kitchen floor. Vodka spilled every where like a very large bursting water balloon. He went back to the freezer and snagged another bottle. This time a mid priced bourbon. He held it in his left arm and tried to open it with the two fingers he could get near the cap. It twisted a little and began to slide from his grip. He caught it and put it back on the counter top. It was loose enough to take off with one hand. He grabbed the bottle and began to gulp it. After three or so swallows he dropped it and again it exploded on the floor. He fell to his knees gagging on his throat. The glass on the floor dug into his knees and began bleeding. Mixing with the liquors on the floor. The alcohol seeped into to wounds and the gags turned to screams at the striking pain. He got up and was again crying uncontrollably. He reached into his pocket and had an equally tough time opening the child proof prescription bottle with one hand. He managed after a few tries and swallowed all of the pills without water. His throat was shredded and he was sure his mouth had some blood in it. He could taste it. His lungs were on fire and breathing was becoming harder and more labored. He stumbled out of the kitchen, the room was spinning and he was losing balance. He looked out the living room window one last time.
The front yard all the way over to Miss Dunnaway's house. Not a single soul! He began to laugh but could only spit blood and mucus. He fell on his bottom and began to look around the room. Every turn he made felt like he was on a roller coaster the was spinning as well as looping while falling down a large fall. Things began to shine and sparkle and everything glowed. His eyes finally closed and he fell to his right. Crushing his already broken arm into two pieces inside the sock like flap of skin holding it together. His face coagulated to the shag rug. His breathing slowed. And he finally went a little while after.

Across the street at Miss Dunnaway's house, a moving truck sat in her drive way. Moving men and a few neighbors were helping her with her furniture and big brown boxes full of nick knacks. Some of the guys from the moving company were taking a break at the insistence of the old lady. They were lounging by her door have a sandwich break.
Andy's mom drove by the Edenburgs and noticed the police tape. She didn't give much thought about what probably happened. Better them than her she thought. She drove into the driveway and parked in front of the garage door. It was strange that it was closed. The remote wasn't working and she got frustrated and threw it at her wind shield. She got out and looked across the street. She removed her sunglasses to get a better look.
"That's odd." She said to her self. "I could of sworn she just moved in there."
Miss Dunnaway smiled and waved from her front door. Andy's mother half smiled and hesitantly waved back. She grabbed her keys and beeped the car security on. She went to the door and unlocked it.
When she entered her living room her heart seemed to stop. After a minute or two she dropped her purse and belted out the most powerful scream she's ever screamed!
Miss Dunnaway could her the beautiful music all the way over at her side of the street. It brought a smile to her face. The moving men and select neighbors that volunteered to help did not react to the sounds. She took a bite out of a sandwich half.
"Growing boys need to nourishment. Such a shame." She told herself with a mouthfull.