“Nightmares of a Psycho…really twisted fiction”

I looked out my bedroom window to a grey, drizzling day.  It was a Sunday at three in the afternoon and I was bored as hell. There wasn’t anything on TV and nothing worth going to the movies to go see at the local RKO. I’ve always hated Sundays. It was the least chaotic, dramatic day of the week, even in my house hold. I found them boring ever since I could remember. I went to the kitchen and looked inside the fridge. Nothing but mayonnaise, Tupperware bowls filled with leftover food from the week and eggs. In the freezer there were pastilles, frozen meats and a box of waffles, but they were useless because there wasn’t any syrup to pour on them. I aunt kept all the good snacks in her room and she didn’t seem to be in a good mood since the morning. It was better to leave her alone.

I went back into my room and slipped on a pair of ink stained Adidas shell tops and went to my stash of money, cleverly hidden under my mattress. I snatched a twenty dollar bill. I grabbed a brand new Pilot marker from my Art Bin. I jogged down the steps to the first floor. I proudly admired the graffiti hall of fame my building hallway have become with Seen, Doze, West, Kano, Eps, Poke and countless other Tc5 and FC tags. I decided to add to the collection with yet another Psycho tag. I was disappointed by my whack hand style.

Outside on the stoop, nobody was hanging out. I wasn’t hungry, but I went around the corner to the Cuban restaurant to eat a couple of two dollar cheeseburgers, that was made with fresh ground beef, anyway. I usually ate at least four of them a day and as bored as I was on this particular day, I would probably eat six of them before the day was over. The Dominican guy that I didn’t know by name but sold nickel bags of weed on my block was there eating cheeseburgers as well. I ate my cheeseburger and copped a dime bag of Haze off him. I might as well, puff a blunt to the head I thought to myself. It took all of five minutes to devour my cheeseburgers. My aunt always scolded me for eating too fast, `but if the food tastes good, how else was I suppose to eat it? I never understood her logic.

Walking back to my block, I saw Horny Rosie wheeling around in her wheelchair. She zig-zagged around.  This was a sure sign that she had already been drinking. Horny Rosie got her legs amputated the year before when she crossed the street at the wrong time and two Gypsy cabs crashed into one another at the intersection with Rosie caught in the middle. It was a tragic accident for such a pretty girl with an equally pretty body. She was Dominican and like a lot of Dominican girls, Rosie was endowed with an ample ass and chest. I had a crush on Rosie since the first day I moved on the block when I was twelve years old. Rosie went out with the fly guy of the block, Landy. He always had on a new Le Tigre shirt, crisp Lees and fresh out the box Adidas or Pumas. He left her as soon as she was released from the hospital. He died three months later of a suspected cocaine induced heart attack in the R.K.O. Landy was only 16.  Because of lack of movement and I suppose depression Rosie gained a ton of weight on her upper body. All she did since the accident was eat Cuban sandwiches with French fries and drink Peachtree Schnapps or Heinekens all day. Everybody on the block felt sorry for her and gave her one or two dollars whenever they could. Her family made sure that she didn’t have to worry about money, but she took the donations anyway.

Hey Psycho!

I kissed her on her cheek.

What’s up, Rosie?

She took a swig of her bottle of Peach Schnapps and offered me. I declined.

You know, Psycho. The same shit…different day!  Rosie was very depressing to talk to.

She had a thin, folded blanket covering what was left of her limbs.

Psycho, you wanna see something?

What? I asked curiously, even though she was known to flash the guys on the block on a drunken occasion.

She lifted the blanket, exposing herself. She had on a denim mini without any panties on. Her pussy was shaved bald.

I immediately looked away like a little kid.

You know you wanna look. Stop fronting! It’s just a pussy.

She was right. I gave myself permission to look. She spread her brown lips with two fingers. She was wet. She probably was always wet.

You like it?

I didn’t know how to respond to the question. I sensed entrapment. I didn’t want to diss her and hurt her feelings, but I didn’t want to say that I did like it, because I knew what was coming next after that.

I hesitated. It’s a nice one.

That’s all it is? Nice? My wheelchair is nice. Check out the chrome!

Okay, you have a pretty pussy.

Horny Rosie grinned like a jackal. You want to fuck me! Don’t you? Admit it.

I can’t I have a girlfriend, I lied.

You don’t have a girlfriend, you fucking liar!

You don’t know that.

I see you everyday, and I rarely see you with a girl, but when I do, it’s always a different one.

I go to her block. She lives in, er, BROOK-lyn!  I felt proud that I was able to come up with such a cool lie on the spot.

Yeah right. Fuck you, Psycho. I remember when you used to sweat my ass. It’s okay. What goes around, comes around.

You weren’t trying to fuck me before your accident. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like an asshole.

I was with Landy! Horny Rosie cried. How did she know that I was a sucker for tears?

Okay! Okay! Let’s smoke this blunt.

Then you’ll fuck me?

Yeah, I gave in. I justified in my head that karma will repay me one day if I threw this poor girl a mercy fuck. Plus, I knew the torture of sexual frustration well. I was always horny and if I fucked Horny Rosie that would make me a good person, I convinced myself.

We went into her building since it was on ground level and didn’t have a stoop. We smoked in the hallway. The Haze hit me immediately and I was fucked up, somewhat in slow motion.  It was rare when I smoked a blunt between two people. I usually puffed my weed in a cipher of at least four heads.

You want some coke?

You got?

You know that shit!

Horny Rosie’s family had at least five coke dealers in it, all brothers and cousins, and if the two cab drivers didn’t die on impact, they wouldn’t have lived past that fateful day. I loved coke because it made me horny and deviant, my two favorite states of mind.

Horny Rosie and I sniffed a bunch of coke, using house keys. It was good shit. The kind of shit that made me disregard the fact that Rosie didn’t have any legs, I just wanted to stick my cock in her pussy already. I drank from her fifth of Peach Schnapps, fucking my self up even more. I started to walk twisted and seeing blurred. I couldn’t see stump limbs anymore. The only thing my mind was capable of seeing at this point, was my dick in Horny Rosie’s pussy. I sniffed some more coke to close the deal. I was now horny out of my mind. We took the elevator to the last floor. We had to figure out what to do, since I couldn’t fuck Rosie on her wheelchair and it would be nearly impossible to carry her up the flight of steps that lead to the roof.

We’re going to have to leave the wheelchair here.

How are you going to get to the roof then?

Horny Rosie gave me a look. My brain wasn’t working right due to the blood that was in my stomach to help digest my cheeseburgers, the weed, the Schnapps and all the coke.

Oh! I got it. I had to carry Rosie to the roof and as fucked up as I was, that seemed a bit weird to me. She looked at me waiting. I bent to pick her up. She wrapped her arms around me. I could smell the alcohol on her breath. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. I lifted up, palming her ass cheeks. It had been a long time since I’ve seen her ass and was glad to see that it was still nice and fat. She was heavier than I imagine for half a person. I trotted up the steps to the roof. It was still drizzling. I jogged to the ledge of the roof with her and sat her on it. I made sure to hold her because it was very easy for her to fall off. With one hand, I unbuttoned and unzipped by baggy Lee twills and let them fall to my ankle. I never wore underwear because I never wanted to be bothered with them when it came to episodes of the sexual kind. My cock was rock hard with anticipation.

Go ahead, suck it, bitch! The coke was talking for me now.

What did you say?

You heard me. I ain’t stutter. Suck it!

She obeyed and sucked it like a starving cat lapping up a bowl of milk. She deep throated me to the point where she had tears in her eyes.

Yeah Baby, you’re sucking that shit good. Give me some more coke!

She went in the pocket of her denim mini and produced the vile of white substance. I instructed her to balance herself with her hands on the ledge so I can sniff. Both feats proved successful. The coke immediately rushed to my brain, being a cerebral person, I suppose is why the cocaine made me so fucking horny. I finished her shit.

She was still attached to my dick, sucking on it.

I wanna fuck! I wanna fuck right now!

I lifted up her skirt and felt her pussy, fingering it roughly. It was soak and wet. Her eyes were horny.

You want this dick, right?

Yeah, I want it. Give it to me, motherfucker. Let me see what you got.

Normally, I was a sensual person into the art of love making, but under the influence, I transformed into a ruthless sexual beast.

I inserted my dick into her and let it slide right into her until it banged her pelvis region. She moaned in pain.

Within seconds I was stroking her full blast. Because of her lack of limbs, it was easy for my whole cock to be in and out of her. She started groaning like a retarded person might. I pumped harder and harder. The drizzle became rain, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was all fueled up and nothing was stopping now. Her pussy was nice and tight, I assume from non activity. The more she groaned, the more my ego wanted to fuck her harder.

Take this dick bitch!

Yeah, Psycho… I’m your bitch!

The sound of her confirming that she was my bitch got me excited I thrust even harder. Her ass slipped off the ledge. In the midst of her falling I was able to grab her arms, but they were slippery because they were wet. I squeezed as tight as I could as she dangled above six stories. Fuck. What the hell? Don’t let go, Rosie! I pleaded.

Rosie looked up at me, fear consumed her face.

I got you!

But she slid more and more till I was holding her wrists.

Save me, Psycho!

I tried to power lift her up, but something from the side of the building snagged her skirt. The sudden jerk made me slip and fall backwards on my ass. I let Rosie go. She screamed to her death. I heard the crash her body produced. It sounded like a small earthquake.

I looked up at the dark moving skies above me. Rain fell on my face, assaulting me. This

did not just happen, God. Please God. This did not just happen.

I helped myself up. My lower back had spasms running through it. I looked over the edge and from the distance I could see Rosie’s open eyes staring up at me. A stream of blood poured out her mouth and ears.  Other people in the building stuck their heads out the building. An old Spanish lady looked up. Her eyes made contact with mine before I could duck out of view.

I ran out the roof and down the stairs and out the building without anyone miraculously seeing me. I went home and locked myself in my room in the dark for the rest of the night. I cried. I didn’t mean to kill Rosie. I didn’t even want to fuck her. It was the weed and the Schnapps and the coke that made me fuck her. Now she was dead.

For the three days, cops and detectives occupied my block. I successfully avoided them. Horny Rosie’s death was the talk of the block, school and Washington Heights. People speculated that the killer was having sex with her. Even though they would never admit it, I knew other guys on my block had sex with her when nobody was looking. For weeks, guys stared at each other, wondering if they did it.

Weeks passed and I felt less guilty. I dreamed and thought about Horny Rosie less and less. I got a new girlfriend that I became infatuated with. I started going out to the movies and Heart Throbs again. I philosophized that Rosie was in a better place and I helped end her misery. I thought anything that would make me feel better.

It was a good night at Heart Throbs. I was with all of my favorite friends, Little Man, Eddie, K.D. Totem, Fer, Big Mark and the whole 163rd street posse. I took two tabs of Mesculin that I stimulated with coke. The night flew by and 4.30 am came much too soon. The night club shut down.

The street outside was filled with luxury cars slowly driving with arrogant drivers thinking that they were above everybody else. I planned to go uptown with Eddie and K.D. and some freaks they met, to eat at the Land and Sea restaurant on 225th street and Broadway, but I was too busy tripping and decided to wait for them outside in order to get a bit of fresh air. I saw Little Man arguing with his girlfriend Tati. Little Man waved me over and I went to them. Tati thought that he had drank too much to ride them home on his Honda Hurricane.

Psycho, you didn’t drink did you?

Nah, I truthfully told her. My high was beginning to wear off.

Come on, Ramsey, let Psycho ride the bike home. You can pick it up tomorrow.

Little Man was a street made millionaire, so the bike meant little to him.

I only had two drinks! Little Man protested. Little Man didn’t drink or drug at all, so two drinks was like the equivalent of six to ten for him. He didn’t look his usual controlled self.

Tati whispered in his ear, obviously something sexual that changed his mind. Little man tossed me the keys and gave me his helmet.

I knew to respect the bike so I slowly rode. I rode a motorcycle maybe four of times in my life and this was the most powerful of all of them. I rode to the F.D.R. highway at 35 MPH and didn’t dare pass that speed limit, being half excited and half afraid.

The ride on the highway was scarier than I imagined as waves of Mesculin went in and out of my psyche. The cars that speeded past me became colorful, psychedelic blurs. I had to remind myself that I was still tripping and to continue focusing. I approached the 179th street exit, pleased that my ride was a success when all of a sudden I saw head lights coming towards me. This confused me, there was no way a car should have been driving into the exit and I convinced myself that I was hallucinating. I felt a sudden bang.

My eyes opened. My vision blurred. I could make out Eddie’s face and his mother Pilar’s face as well. They were looking down at me. They looked very somber. I heard a beeping sound that I associated with hospitals. I didn’t know what happen. My vision cleared. I saw my aunt Olga and my cousin/sister Patricia. They all looked very sad and concerned.

Eddie held my hand.

What’s up, my brother? I just want you to know that I’m here for you.

Tears streamed out his eyes.

I’m always going to be here for you for as long as you live.

What the fuck is going on, I wondered. I felt different. Something was wrong with me, but I couldn’t quite place it.

I tried to lift myself up, but the sudden pain stopped me. A spot of blood suddenly appeared on my sheet. The spot spread to become a big circle. Everybody rushed to me and begged me to stay still. It was too late. An abdominal stitch had popped. I felt the rip down my stomach. Tears poured out my eyes and I let my hands continue to explore the new me. I felt a bag on the side of me. I knew what the bag was from my aunt Elsie. I was 16 with my stomach split down the middle and a colostomy bag attached to me.

I sobbed like a bitch. I didn’t want to be alive. How was I going to get girls with an ugly scar running down my torso and a shit bag located on my side?

West, Betty, his mother Sonia and Noah walked into the room. I looked at West with helpless eyes. Tell me what the fuck is going on?

Chill Bee, take it easy. Everybody talked in front of me with their eyes. Did they think I was stupid? I felt the bag of shit up, it disgusted me. I realized that there was an absence of mass with the sheet that covered me. What the fuck? 

I quickly got up. More stitches popped. I screamed in agony. I snatched the sheet off of me. This couldn’t be. Please God, please, tell me that this is a dream. I looked at everybody. Fuck their sad eyes!  I didn’t have my legs. I had stumps, still raw and bandaged. This was a very harsh reality to bear. I was frozen in a hospital bed. Everybody I loved, feeling sorry for me. I did the only thing I could do. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. And I never stopped screaming until I woke up drenched in sweat. “What the......”

Posted on January 07, 2008 at 10:03 PM   |   Previous Entry   |   Next Entry   |   Entry List   |   Email Entry   |    Digg

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