Free Method 15 33 by Shannon Kirk Page B

fucking…I fucking…shut the fuck up, Brad. I fucking told you…Of course I’d-a shot them all if this bitch had screamed.”
    He winked at me when he said this, the kind of expression that says,
yes, I would have shot you all. I’m most definitely not on your side
, to which I thought:
Don’t wink at me. If I get the chance, I will cut your eyes out for that gesture. I’ll laminate your pupils in resin and carry them on a keychain
.
    Back in my room, I allowed myself to rest on my side, what with the bruising and thin wood shards in my back. I lay on top of the white coverlet, the butterfly a distant phantom at this point, running through my ordered assets. …
Asset #28, string for a bow, aka, elastic band. Thank you, black angel, for the warning and the gift
.

CHAPTER SIX
Numerous Days, The Monotony
    “The Shadow: And I hate the same thing you hate: the night; I love human beings, because they are devotees of light and I’m pleased when their eyes shine as they discern and discover knowledge—untiring knowers and discoverers that they are. That shadow, which all things cast, if the sunshine of perception falls upon them—that shadow am I as well.”
    –Friedrich Nietzsche, The Wanderer and his Shadow
    Thales is generally accepted as the first Greek scientist. He invented what is known as “Shadow Reckoning,” an indirect method of measuring the height and width of an object that might otherwise be difficult to measure. Thales practiced this method on pyramids. My version of Shadow Reckoning not only calculated my captor’s height and width, but also from there, his weight.
    After the day in the attic, I already had enough assets to kill my captor five times over. What I needed, therefore, was to confirm a few things about him and also, like standing to the side of skipping ropes, calculate the precise time to enter the double-dutch and strike.
Not yet, soon, soon, soon, it’s coming, wait, wait…
.
    I also needed to hone weapons, calculate and test my theories on his weight and gait, and practice again. So if you’re wondering why I write only of the days someone visits or of the days I acquire something significant, it’s because otherwise I’d be telling you hours and hours of repetition, such as was documented in the tiniest of script on several pieces of paper—my makeshift “labbook”—which I buried within the cotton and feather stuffing of my top mattress. I’ve included an excerpt below, in which I refer to him, the subject captor, as this symbol:the evil eye. The evil eye is universally considered in many cultures as an omen of misfortune on the person on whom it is cast. Oh, every single chance I got, I cast my hulking keeper the evil eye; I carried my wish of misfortune upon him even within my writing.
    You might be wondering why I would include the evil eye in a scientific lab book; isn’t such a symbol mere myth and superstition? Perhaps. But let me illustrate my motivation with a bit of a side-story.
    When I was eight years old, my Ecuadorian nanny picked me up from an after-school play rehearsal. She stood by the gym door with the other mothers. Naturally, she eavesdropped on their conversations. The play we rehearsed was
Our Town
, and I was the precocious child who yells a lot. In one scene, our director had me run down a ramp and shout my lines. I have no clue why. I did as I was told since play-acting was a prescription from the child psychiatrist.
    “Perhaps some theater would assist her in overcoming the harsh reality of the school shooting,” he had told my mother after I made the mistake of informing her of several machine gun nightmares over the last month. Little did Mother realize, this was no bout. I had these dreams constantly, for I invited them. Having read much about the brain from age six to eight, I learned of the brain’s work during sleep to heal itself. Grow stronger. So I forced the replay of the pop, pop shooting nearly every night to work a weaving magic