Free The Keepers by 1PUNK1

badness was alive now and reproducing
more than the goodness in his mind, unable to be contained. Do I even deserve to go and wipe my ass? He asked himself. No I
don’t, so as punishment, for my sins, I will stay in bed this way the whole day until
tomorrow.

Chapter 6: The death.

    For weeks he stayed so. Like an
animal. Locked up in his apartment, first eating all the food he
had, then starving himself by not going out and buying anything and
when he wanted to go, he went in his pants. And he vomited daily
and these white pants and black shirt, were the clothes he had
changed into after the first time he had soiled himself. But now,
the white pants were brown with touches yellow and the black shirt
was like a black canvas with a rainbow painted on it. He was
horrible.
    A banging of
the drums. In the jungle, Africa. In Iceland, in
Lond o n the Big Ben. Loud, banging.
Hard. Bang! Bang! Bang! Loud, very loud. Boom. The sound of a gun.
Rikki, them damned panks are shooting. Bang. In my heart. Bang in
my head. Bang, my leg blown off, my head, my arms. Bang. Bang.
Bang. Breathe. BREATHE! No banging. BREATHE!.
    “ Rikki, go get
the door , ” his mother said.
    “ Dammit boy,
get the door ,” s ome man he had never seen before said.
    “ Wake up bro.
Get the door ,” Jared said.
    Jared...Jared where are
you? They are shooting. They’re shooting.
Dammit, I’m safe here. I’m fine here. I deserve this.
F**k!
    “ Are you are
awake?” The Voice asked.
    What do you
want? Some how the sound of The
Voice soothed his panic.
    “ Someone is at
your door, Rikki.”
    Tell them to go away.
    “ Go away,”
Rikki said, shouting. Not The Voice .
    “ I said go
f**king away. Dammit.” He shouted again, and stood up from the
white bedspread spoiled brownish. Pulling his pants up to his
waist, he tried to make his way to the door. The floor was
littered. Plastic wrappers, cups, plates, broken glass, scratched
walls, blood stained walls, soiled carpet. It was a
pigsty.
    “ Yes Mr.
Chards. I have heard your voice and confirmed, well I assume that
everything is alright and I shall leave you.” The duty manager
smelled the foul odour he was told about through the whole
corridor.
    It was the
duty manager. It’s just the duty
manager , h e said to The
Voice .
    “ But one more
thing” the duty manager resumed after a moment. “We – no – I have
had several complaints about peculiar noises coming from this room by your neighbours, Mr. Chards,
such as screams and loud knockings against the walls or whatever”
He paused and thought of how to say the next part.
    “ I have also
had complains about a foul odour emanating from your room, Mr.
Chards. I hope everything is alright ,” He
continued hesitatingly and -
    “ Go away. I
paid for the whole year. And I can do whatever I want.
Go ,” Rikki said.
    “ I shall check
again in three days.”
    Who talks like this. Like he
has something stuck up his ass.
    “ Rikki, boy,
it is the civilised sort that speak such , ” The Voice replied.
    The duty manager’s footsteps
were audible as he headed towards the elevator, as well as the ping
sound the elevator made when it opened.
    The elevator
to heaven. That’s it! He shouted in his
mind and that was it.
    ” I am not
god!” He shouted and shouted again several times and after all that
needed to be shouted, The Voice said
“ Rikki, you need a god and the first step
is to get yourself a bible. In your case any bible will
do.”
    He considered and a light turned
on in his soul.
    “ Yes. Yes.
Yes.,” he said relieved by the
discovery of the solution.
    -
    The bible. The
only thing that was inspirational enough to have him get out of his
filthy bed, have him wash, have him cleaned up, and dressed up. The
bright yellow shirt did not at all match his bright purple skinny
short pants. His dreadlocks were braided and dyed green casting
such a contrast to his gold coloured sunglasses which were set on
his head and tinted yellow. H is black high
tops