Call 1800-234-DEAD by Florence Hazel (love letters to the dead TXT) 📖

“That’s his first name, oh so smart one,” he snapped sarcastically, “I didn’t think your small brain would have the room to comprehend a book bigger than twenty pages.”

“And I didn’t think you’d be able to aim a joke so low below the belt,” I sneered, “Although at least I’m not an ignorant grasshole who deserves to be single for the rest of his miserable, sorry life. What, are you afraid of actually making friends or something?”

“Grasshole?” he asked back, “I don’t have the vocabulary of a third grader.”

“I don’t have the maturity of a forty-year old virgin on crack.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” he almost yelled.

“What is the world supposed to mean?!” I asked back even louder than him, and by this point, Joshua was all but rolling around on the floor—mainly because of his seat belt holding him in—given how much he was laughing.

“You’re a confusing annoying bitch!” he yelled.

“And you’re a douchebag filled with pudding right where your man parts should be!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Fine!” I threw my hands up, “You’re a cocky, egotistical, son of a man whore, and you need to learn to have some manners around women, or else you’re going to get yourself castrated!” I shouted. Joshua laughed even harder, if that was possible, and Beau looked deep in thought, the steam from his cartoon character-self coming out of his ears at an alarming rate.

I still wanted to push him further so I opened my bigger-than-Canada mouth and spoke.

“Who has the vocabulary of a third grader now, huh? Certainly not me.” He growled and pulled the car over, shooting his dear friend a hate filled glare as he was howling like a hyena.

“You will cooperate, you hear me? Don’t pull any stuff like this when we get to the station, I don’t like you and you don’t like me, we get it. Please, can we just have a peace treaty while we interrogate you?”

“Hmm,” I pursed my lips, pretending to look up in thought, “I don’t know, maybe if there was something in it for me…?” I looked over to him and held my hand out, indicating cash was needed if he wanted to even look at me.  He groaned and pulled out his wallet, slapping fifty dollars in my palm. Grinning, I jumped around in my seat, doing a little happy dance as I pocketed my new cash.

“I…I…I…think I’m going to like this girl,” Joshua gasped in between his guffaws.

“Shut the hell up, Josh,” Beau muttered, putting the car into motion. The paved road passed faster as we all stayed silent and the blonde boy in the back tried to recover from his laughing seizure. I looked out the window as the small town of El Paso, Colorado passed by my eyes. It was a relatively nice day, just a little bit of snow on the grass that was slowly melting away. This meant that spring was creeping up on the town and I couldn’t be happier—well I could, if I left town, but that isn’t the point.

Citizens were out today, walking along in light winter coats and ear muffs as they enjoyed the break from the terrible weather that had been occurring for the past few days. I even noticed some people walking their dogs, which I always protested to, if it was cold enough for you to wear a coat, don’t you think you and your dog should be inside? It never made sense, but then again, Dad always told me I was the most colorful crayon in the Crayola box, or what everyone else preferred to call it, crazy.

I had an active imagination as a kid, maybe just a bit too active. I wouldn’t see monsters under my bed, I’d see ghosts in my closet. Usually I would have a tea-party and ask them what their name was, what they liked to do, and whether they wanted cookies or scones. That’s how I learned about the terrible things in life, the ghosts told me.

I learned about World Wars I-III from a hardened war veteran named Augustus, or Gus for short. I learned about murders and death from an offed mother of two named Martha. That’s how I knew that Grandpa Gills wasn’t just “sleeping” and he wasn’t “out fishing”, I cried for weeks when Mom and Dad finally admitted the truth.

“We’re here,” Beau declared, pulling the car to a halting stop and hopping out.

Now it’s time to figure out why I was approached by these hot guys in the first place.

Text: FLORENCE HAZEL
Images: FLORENCE HAZEL
Editing: FLORENCE HAZEL
Publication Date: 06-17-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To E.K. Perkins, ElizabethShadows, Sarcastically_Enhanced, Sami--Recognized, and many others from BookRix who would take too long to name! LAWLZ! AND to my loving mother, Tina