Burgess and the Brood

Burgess and the Brood

The doldrums in the room catered of stale beer and cigarettes. The putrid irony of sprayed vomit across an Ansel Adams The knock off almost seems neo-hipster.

What rundown room this week with pissed on sheets, no clean towels, fuck, no towels. I stand looking forward, content with the reflection before me. It has taken long to get to this feeling, not that of a seething self loathing. Not a single blink of the eyes they begin to sting, blurry. I clear the deepest blue of my eyes, no man, no woman. I’m pleased with my eccentric captivity.

My thoughts wander in manic prose. I write, I paint, I paint a mosaic manic manifestation of labels, in a mix that does not dilute but can mix harmoniously separate. A much better mix than the master manipulators still trying to force feed vanilla boredom and stale drip coffee.

Here I stand in front of the abused mirror, damaged from the obvious of previous tenants rants. Arguments that titer on the humorous cause of the sheer immaturity and ignorance of them. The laugh track plays along.

We all know of our future destination on this night. My two best friends sit on the edge of one bed in this one room shanty. Were all decked in our thrift store bought or lifted hipster garb. Black skinny jeans, converse practically worn to disintegration. We don our favorite band t’s, mine of course, Hunter Valentine. We finish off with some strap and attitude, “what’s tonight?” I barely utter the statement before Dee let’s out her signature growl,

“how bout a fight?”

Dee is one of my best friends. Most excitedly different, so of course I would be drawn to her. We all sit here in this assholes project overhaul just waiting a moment longer in hopes of not showing up too early and losing stud points.

Nothing ever happens here, well except sex in public, drunk during church or the AA meeting high. More sex, stoned at the local Denny’s drinking too much dollar coffee and eating greasy fries with ranch. Can’t forget the occasional setting of fire to the local bus stops, for no other reason than just being able to do it.

If you’re lucky they may have some sort of gay, “family” event to attend. Hopefully though not an all ages event cause then you feel like you can’t be yourself, can’t be a total dumb fuck drunk. Tonight though we are lucky, there is an event.

Dee is always naturally pumped and as such just wants to kick someone’s ass. Kinda don’t blame her with the shit she has gone through. You would think Dee to be a scuzz, but she is quite attractive. A soft Hispanic princess with edge. She wears her hair razored short all around her head except the very top where she sports a subtle pompadour. She adorns her look handsomely with a fuck you attitude. Tonight she rocks an L7 tee that is snug but not too much so. Only a mere hint at a gender that’ll just keep you guessing. The jeans she wears skinny of course with the back pockets laying just right across her ass. I catch myself staring on occasion.

My other best friend, Twat, yes that is the preferred name, can only be described by the cliché, butch. I prefer to describe Twat as ruggedly handsome. She doesn’t care no how. The way Twat sees it, she’s getting more pussy than you, you’re just hatin and got your own problems. There are times though she is too dangerous following the pussy goods. On one occasion Dee and I had to drag her bare ass through a thorn bush as we pulled her from a first floor bedroom. She had been muff diving on a well known lawyers wife and the asshole was on his way home. Occasionally they still bump.

I’m Burgess. I’m a little bit of everything, I’ll always keep you guessing. For now I’m just hanging half ass on the window sill waiting with the others. My uniform tonight I include with my signature white belt, remembrance.

I quit smoking a while ago so I have noticed I have become a more attuned listener. I no longer have the constant worry of the next nicotine fix. My concentration on what matters now. My hearing with the ex bitch definitely all selective though. We all shackle up our gear and head out.

Standing there for awhile we finally get to the front of the line. Dee and I decide to fuck with the door girl. It’s an all women’s dance and the door bitch appears to be questioning Twats gender. I’m thinking that by now this binary dance shit is obsolete and derelict. You would think our “community” would by now understand that separation only furthers separation of our common goal of equality.

This oversized garage joint with blue paint peeling at the edges and ancient disco ball tries hard to pull at retro techno 90’s chic. Perfect place though to drop a dose. I’ve been sober now for two years though. I scan the place and notice Twat has already distracted herself with probably the sleaziest of patrons. You know, the kind you take home for only one night, put a bag on it and push into a cab. Dee and I learned a while ago to not intervene, “rescue” her. Can’t rescue someone not wanting to be rescued.

Dee and I continue to mess with the door girl. She’s cute and starts asking us questions hinting at if were a couple or not. We were sure she was flirting with us, maybe one of us, but hey both of us would not be out of the question. I quickly realized she was into our game and was fucking back. I liked that, that gave me a tingle in just the right way. She had a Labret, simple silver ball. I’ve always found that piercing incredibly sensual due to how well it can accentuate a woman’s lips. She had the most luxurious of shoulder length locks. Raven hair tinted blue. She did give me a look as Dee and I finally continued on.

Quickly I turn to see where Dee has us sitting……..next to her psycho fucking ex with the quasi lazy eye. My head screams, “take your shoe off and beat her with it!” I let out a slight chuckle in my private moment. I just remark passive aggressively to anything that falls from her mouth. Dee senses my tone and slams her foot right into my puss from underneath the table. She smirks noticing my wince of pain and the tears welling up at the corner of my eyes.

I feel a pull at my shirt collar. I look up startled not sure who’s eyes I will meet. It’s her, raven hair with the sexy Labret. She continues to tug at my collar clearly motioning me to get my ass out of the chair. She marches me into the bathroom, slams the door, the lock shuts with a thud inside the wood frame. The bathroom a bit rundown as would be expected. Cigarettes encircle the toilet water. My mind of course elsewhere, the body, beauty before me. She must be my height, 5’7, we can see eye to eye. Her eyes a pale hazel, green dances around the edges of her irises. She knows what she wants but hesitates not quite sure of any boundaries I may have. At this very moment any boundaries that may have existed are in the distant past. Both our bodies are a little tense. We are close enough however to feel our breasts heave against one another in rhythm with our breathing. So intense can we feel one another, clothes are no barrier.

I make the move. I grab the back of her neck pulling her into me, I want, I need the taste of her lips upon my tongue. Her body tightens under my touch, I pull away fearing I have committed some kind of error in judgement. We are two shells of want and worry. With a fierce intensity reading the thoughts of one another, engaged in like soul, our hands limber yet strong grab at one another. I place both my hands on her hips. I squeeze her hips gently feeling them start to pulsate against me. I slowly bring her pants down around her as she participates in unzipping them. She grabs my hands in hers and helps me remove the silken cloth covering the heart I long to taste and feel with every part of me. I begin to kiss her deeply. My left hand cups the firmness of her ass, my right wanders upward, slowly. There is hesitation toward my end destination. Our mouths bite and tease each other’s tongues and lips. Her hair falls into my face, I don’t brush it to the side, I want each strand blinding me, I only want to look with my taste and touch. She smells sweet with sweat. She runs her small, smooth fingers through my blonde hair, pulling gently but in a domineering fashion. My tongue wanders elsewhere. It finds the part where her neck and bottom of her ear meet. She moans, I have no doubt of the pleasure I bestow upon her. She slips her hands gently down my legs stroking the heat between them. Her hands quiver a moment but begin in hurried manner to release my belt and pants that only hinders the penetration she longs to give me. Her thoughts of my tightness only hurry her more. As her hands finally find their way around my pants, unbuckled and unzipped, she shrugs them down like worthless Christmas wrapping, the bow only worth keeping. I pull her into my body as close as can be possible. Our legs intertwine, I can feel her so soft, warm, increasingly wet against my bare thigh. I sense her swollen clit stroke gently against me but with even pressure for the perfect orgasm. Our breathing now deeper, heavier, her moans faster…………….BANG, BANG, BANG!

I scream in demonic frustration, “Who the fuck is it? And it better be fucking good!”

Dee shouts from the other side. Of course, of course it would be Dee. “Yo she blew me off, let’s go for beers and your pussy shit elsewhere!”

We both just stand there for a moment. Both of us a little embarrassed but left with swollen pussy and blue clit. I apologize, don’t say much more for fear of feeling even more humiliated. I exit the bathroom, now consoling my dumped, twat swatting best friend.

To Be Continued………….




Burgess and the Brood (Chapter 2: Eyes Bleed Crimson)

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A week has gone by since my close encounter of the sex kind. Yet again I wake in the degrading unfamiliarity of a bed I don’t own. I’m in nothing more than my plaid red boxers, don’t ask, I’ll just say it was laundry day. Dee and I are staying with her ex for a little while, hopefully just a little while. They are back together at the moment but who knows how long this stretch is going to last especially when I realize that it’s Dee who is keeping company next to me.

I lay here half naked looking up at the ceiling counting the faces in the bumpy half ass plaster job. The faces that appear to me have the look afflicted with a crampy kind of malaise.

My head turns left towards Dee. Her breathing labored in an endearing sense with her barely audible whistle snores. I think of how I’m not even the slightest bit uneasy with my nakedness and laying as close as I am beside her. She however is fully clothed, shoes on. One shoe half way and starting to slip from her heel. She has a noticeable hole in the heel of her sock. The sock tattered indicating it’s longevity has expired or at least screaming while it goes down with the ashes.

Many find it strange and many don’t even believe we have never had sex. We have had a couple moments where it may have come close but that is it. There was the one time we got baked out at a hippy forest fair where you could practically buy the homemade soap and patchouli oil in bulk, all tie dye on sale. We found ourselves finishing off the last of a bowl in a broken down ancient chevy behind one of the vendors tents. She was scraping the bowl with a definite plan and vigor. I swore while she was doing it I saw the bowl crack open in her hand, sensing a fear that our last option of smoking today may be finished. We had nothing to Macgyver a pipe out of, not even an empty can. However the alternative of licking the damn bowl did cross my mind.

After we had achieved in getting every last bit of the bitter and harsh smokey candy, we both just stared into each other. There was a moment between us where we assumed the other might start some sort of incoherent dialogue. At the point though when we realized our brain had numbed out, speech and thought delayed, we just grabbed for each other. We kissed deeply, almost too deep, if there is even a too deep. Our tongues seeking each other, there was a moment at passion that needed to be found. I remember it being sloppy. Not sloppy in a bad way, well maybe, cause it is embarrassing to think of now. At that moment however, feeling something that scared the hell out of me, it felt forced with an obligation. An obligation to the lesbian masses to engage in a tell all “incestious” relationship. We realized the magnitude of our situation. As fast as it had started it stopped. We looked at each other and just laughed. It had been a while since either of us had laughed like that. That hard ab work out kind of laugh. So hard, any remnants of spit and drool I had left ended up on the volume knob and cassette player of the dash board, Dee pissed her pants.

I lay here now, half naked, Dee by my side and I am very aware of the metaphor of our present situation and our relationship. I stop myself from laughing out loud. I can smell the lingering stench of booze emanating from her body. She’ll be hung over and I do not want to wake that beast. I hear footsteps with a short gait drop with a thud and purpose toward the room. The steps so heavy I can practically hear the wood flooring splinter underneath. Fuck, I know it’s her girlfriend, all of ninety pounds and five feet of her. I imagine her mutating from her small frame into hells worst atrocity in physical form. Her cloven hooves stop outside the door. I can see the flames from her hairy gaping nostrils penetrate it. She barrels in with such a ferocity she takes the door off the hinges. At the same time Dee and I bolt out of any happy slumber we may have shared.

I was startled but find it unnerving when Dee threw herself on me. Her head buried into my shoulder, her arms around me shaking like loose snow in a blizzard. A feeling I have not felt for a long while, one I had learned to deep breath away festered within me. Dee feared nothing and nobody. Her ex, Ginger, let’s out a scream that can only be described as having the pitch of the devils minions ascending from hell. Her eyes had a blackness, emptiness behind them, death looking right into us. Her body was tense. Rigid muscle seemed to appear upon her tiny frame. One of her grotesquely mutated arms raised, the other by her side clenched with such intensity her knuckles turn white.

The only words she uttered from her cracked snarled mouth, ” you fucking cunt!” The echo deafening.

I looked down at Dee. Her head still in my shoulder, she turned into the sunlight peering through the bent metal blinds in the window. I saw the fresh scrape and bruise that adorned the fleshy bone around her right eye. It muffled the inner peace of beauty and innocence I always saw in her.

At that moment the pacifist in me took a vacation, crimson bled into my eyes.




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 3 (Triggers)

arrested-in-handcuffs (2)I’ve been sitting here in this fucking cage for hours. There is no expectation of privacy to be had in this cell. I could piss all day long in front of someone, but taking a shit is not gonna happen. Dee however would think its hilarious. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was on her bucket list. If this isn’t a big enough trigger to justify getting loaded and destroying two years of sobriety, I’m not sure what is. Not sure what time it is by now but it feels about five in the afternoon. “Fuck!” My head screaming out loud. The thought of that drink warming my tongue and stinging the back of my throat is on repeat in my thoughts. However during the few intermissions from my self destructive ramblings in my mind I wonder about deciphering the moments that have occurred hours ago and leading me here.

I let out a barely audible sigh as I speak Dees name. My whole body is knotted up with tension and anguish. There is something to a traumatic moment and silence afterward that can make you question everything you thought of yourself. I think back to that moment. Scary that I do not remember too much, nothing entirely specific. The memory runs in abrupt parts, nothing flows from scene to scene. I recall my clenched fist smashing into Gingers chin. It was almost like slow motion, the flesh on her chin rippling as my fist connected with her damn face. Everything goes blank from there for awhile. The last thing I can remember is Dee pulling me off of her, Ginger laid passed out with what looked more than just one punch to her face. Feeling guilty and shocked by the reaction I had my eyes begin to tear up.

My thoughts are jumbled, confused, speedy from one thought to an emotion and back. I am devastated that I had hurt someone as badly as I had. Why such a violent reaction though? Why? The mere constant reflection of my hideous actions only heightens my want, need, for something to help me escape. At that moment I hear the door open from down the short hallway and someone starts my way. I look up once I hear the scratchy hiss of the individuals pants rubbing together at the thighs. A female cop stops at my cell. She is cute, blond hair and bigger build. The uniform accentuates her features. As she unlocks the cage, with some surprisingly muscled hands, she explains that someone has bailed me out.

“Who?” I ask with some hesitation in my voice, shaky. There is a rasp in her voice as she replies, “Not sure, does it matter at this point?”

What a douche I state under my breath as I walk passed her. She cocks her left eyebrow as if she heard me or at least aware I did say something not so polite.

After I have retrieved all my things, my watch and a couple of bucks, they release me. As I enter the lobby area my eyes make contact with Dee. She looks as if she has been crying, her eyes a bit blood shot and puffy. She furrows her brow, now she just looks pissed. I can sense what she wants to say and is holding back. This is gonna be all my fault. I speak little to her and ask if she walked here. “Naw, Twat found a double bagger with a vehicle.” Now I know she is pissed, her voice dripping like molasses and full of disdain. I don’t say anything more out of fear of angering her and also of the truth. We exit the double doors of the building and Dee motions over to the vehicle with Twat at the drivers seat. The vehicle, a classic meant only for a junk yard, 1990’s something Ford Tempo. At the moment it’s aesthetic “beauty” takes a back seat to getting us the fuck out of there. In our anger Dee and I sit apart. I take shotgun she takes the back on the drivers side, her body language speaks volumes of hostility. As Twat drives away I’m not even sure where we are going. To her new fuck of the weeks place, maybe not.

My mind begins to hasten to that of an old friend. A friend I haven’t seen for a year or so and for good reason. My urge to meet up with her is overwhelming. I look over at Twat, my left eye catching a blurry image of Dee in the back seat.

“Take me over to Leslie’s.” My voice is lowered and commanding.

I am determined this day to abandon all of my principles, principles I have been developing and practicing for about two years and with much difficulty. Dee speaks for the first time without anger in her voice, concern is apparent.

“Fuck Burgess, you know what goes on there.”

“I don’t fucking care at this point and you’re clearly pissed at me. Why the fuck do I want to hang with you Dee?”

Were finally there, stopping in front of Leslie’s apartment building. Nice place except for the fact that carrying mace must always be a part of your wardrobe. Dee begins to utter something I know will just bring up even more guilt. I cut her off, I exit the vehicle and slam the door so hard I can see and hear the glass of the window rattle in it’s frame.

A few hours pass and Leslie has invited some friends over, I recognize no one. Alcohol is in abundance, music blaring with bass that thumps your eardrums, the coffee table made from milk crates and particle board.

That blue plastic cup with Jack inside beckons to me, calls to me in the friendliest of voices. Sobriety is no longer my savior but my enemy. I grasp the cup like a baby grabbing for it’s mothers tit. The cup is just below my nose, the aroma itself is intoxicating. Are battles like these ever really won?




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 4 (She Forgives Me)

coffee-house-large Goddamn, I can barely fight the sunlight as it forces my muddied eyes open. My eyes feel a tease of flames licking at them as I peel open the glued lids with my right hand. My eyes barely come into focus, still foggy. Damn I slept in my contacts again. Great, removing them won’t make the fog that looms within my eyes go away for at least an hour. Most of my attention though on my fucking head continuing to pound in rhythm to all the shitty music played last night. Even though my eyes are cloudy I can make out that I crashed on a couch and the living room almost looks like the scene in the movie “Kids” where all the dysfunctional youth get fucked up and crash everywhere in the living room. A scene of sorts of the massacre of addiction and youthful angst. Well, there are four of us only, including me. The other three are passed out on the floor attempting to share an ancient faded Scooby-Doo blanket. So ancient that the thread loomed into the edges of it has been ripped away in parts, it’s tattered insides hanging out in some areas.

My head begins to calm after a moment from the incessant pounding. The light glaring into my eyes and piercing my brain was surely the cause. My vision and temporary headache take me back to my near crash, near relapse from last night. I cannot believe I put myself into such a tempting, triggering position. Fuck, the smell, having it that close to my lips. What if subconsciously this was a challenge for myself? What if this was to test strength I feel I may have lost cause of my feelings, anxiety of losing control over the past couple of days fucked up happenings? Why is my mind screaming so many profanities this morning? Fuck it, gotta have one vice. At least cussing is a release of pain and struggle for me. Alcohol is my antagonist. Note to self: do not do this again, this trigger was completely avoidable, dumbass.

I’m still sitting here on this dilapidated couch with what I think should probably have cinder blocks wedged underneath it. The cinder blocks would definitely go with the ambience of the apartment. Man, what if Dee is still pissed at me? She usually doesn’t hold a grudge, but this situation is obviously different. She’s probably worried, at least a tiny bit. I kind of like the thought of her being worried. I like it cause she cares therefore she must love me. Ok, halt, have that last thought fade to fucking black or take an abrupt dive off an abyss where there is zero survival possibility. Deep breath………let’s get the fuck out of here. I don’t say goodbye to anyone. For one, they’re all asleep. Two, my leaving is my interpretive dance to never put myself into a situation like I had, a situation I have control over to avoid. The thought may be a little unrealistic but one I need for just this moment. Day by day I need to take it, many times, hour by hour. I have survived another day.

The only place right now I could think to even go where Dee may be already or at least show up at is this coffee shop, “The Straight Shot”. I always found it to be a blatant oxymoron for so many of “us” that frequented the establishment with a name like that. I sometimes wonder if that was the point. I’ve only been here about ten minutes and my ass is already starting to go numb from the hard faux wooden chair. Many places offer chairs that are hard like this in hopes that customers will only stay for a bit. A business tactic I believe to keep the conveyor belt of customers constantly moving. If you keep that assembly line going of the zombie consumer masses the more profit. That’s why I always wanted to visit one of those posh restaurants where you eat the food off of a beautiful woman’s body. Man, they want you to definitely stay and get comfortable there. The prices I’m sure are exorbitant, but I would think worth it for an atmosphere like that.

I only have a couple bucks on me so all I can really get is some hot lemon water. I almost think I am paying more for the rental of the damn mug. I’m gonna sip the beverage of which I have been raped of from my funds in hopes that Dee may show up soon. This has always been our place. Twat would join us on occasion when she wasn’t “busy” doing other things, chicks. It’s actually an amazing day out. Not one cloud in the sky. Quite symbolic of my near escape from last night. Now that I have made my peace with the sun goddess and my eyes have cleared somewhat, I welcome her presence. Just people watching for a minute. Humans really are quite the interesting animal. I bring the puke purple mug up to my lips. The lemon is a far superior aroma compared to the sting of Jack. Dee walks in as I begin to take a sip.

As I see her, my lips relax forgetting their purpose, the water dribbles down my chin and down the front of my shirt. Ok, a tiny bit embarrassing but that feeling quickly evaporates into the air when I look up and notice Dee has caught sight of my fumble and laughing at me. Everything is going to be ok. Some things though may be getting heavy for us soon. There is of course a case pending against me for the assault. I don’t want to think of that now. Even with the bruise upon her face, when she smiles, I’ve never seen brown hazel eyes like that before. Nobody could ever take the light from those eyes, and so few even see that it exists. We have been best friends for years now. We have been together through things that most can’t even imagine. I’m not exactly sure what it is that I am feeling. Should I tell her? Fuck that! I’m sure it is just that connection many individuals feel when they experience tragedy together.

She’s standing here in front of me now. Her eyes and body speak a language I only know. It beckons to me that she needs me. It takes only a second for me to rise to her and take her in my arms. I can feel her tears upon my neck.




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 5 (Raven Hair, Sexy Labret)

027633c4bcb15f537a8c068d15f4af31 (2)Dee and I sit down at the bistro style table. The glass top is a bit of a frosty type of mosaic, fitting, matches my emotions. We sit for a moment, only an arms distance separates us. There is a palpable tension felt within and around our table. Our tiny sanctuary of negativity and stour. A small fraction of our angst is inviting allowing me to forget that my ass is numb from a chair harder than stone. Nope, there it is, my ass died. I’m able to fight how uncomfortable it is however cause our ever present situation calls for it. We are both noticeably plagued with uneasy emotion and a fear of the dialogue yet to come. My expectation is to not utterly extirpate this moment and lose Dee altogether. The silence is cut by the rapier of my growing uneasiness. I open with what I hope for is a somewhat trivial question sprinkled with sugar.

“How, where the hell did you get the money to bail me out?”

I see her flawless olive skin turn a pallor immediately noticed. Her eyes are clear as ever though and I can see into them at depths that scare the hell out of me every time.

“I pawned off my mothers crucifix.” Her voice shaky and hesitant.

“Fuck!” my utterance of the word quick and abrupt, there was no mistaking it for something else, nothing. I also let out an innate automatic response of the question, “What?” right before that. The exclamations however in my mind forever locked in their intricate eternity, no fucking cliff in sight.

“Dee I sure as hell would have rather just stayed in there, than have you do that! I was right there when your mom gave that to you right before she fucking died!” My voice was now at decibels that caught the attention of the other patrons.

I stood up quickly, wanting every semblance of my actions in their passive aggressive tones shouting anger.

“Shit!” I let the expletive out a bit more quiet as my right knee makes contact from underneath with the glass table.

Screaming cuss words is not worth it, don’t want anymore attention than I have already brought to us. Dee instinctively motions for me to sit down. Her hand is unsteady as well but oddly reassuring. Her eyes still clear but the corners now hinting at a rush of tears. God it hurt me deeper than the thought of my own death to see any pain in her.

My mind wanders from the incessant, selfish thought of my own wounded ego. Should I just get it over with? Should I just fucking tell her? Again we sit across from each other engaged in uncomfortable eye contact. Silence engulfs us. I feel Dee slide her foot over mine, most likely by accident, but my mind yells for me to announce to her the years of my heart bound in silence and a suffocating dark.

The door to the coffee shop opens with an audible creak. My concentration broken, I turn toward the door. My eyes catch the hue of blue intertwined within the sheen of midnight black. Barely coherent, my tongue fumbles inside my mouth.

“It’s her.”

At the same time Dee jerks her head to look at what it is that has caused a furrow of intensity in my brow. Raven hair with the sexy Labret matches my stare. Dee let’s out a weak almost disappointed,


Raven hair sways in our direction, and I use sway liberally. She is all woman and her hips alone can melt the hardest parts of you and burn the coldest. She is profound in her appearance and the freak in her buries itself deep in my sexuality. She wears her hair in a sloppy bun, a few strands fall into her face down to the dimple of her chin, some spicy memories to never forget. She wears a vintage Gunny Sack dress and knee high burgundy red Doc Martens better than any woman I have ever noticed before. Her beauty inhales every deep breath from me.

She is a dark angel, omnipotent over my desires.

“Why hello, I’m Aiyana.”

I raise my hand to hers purposely avoiding where my heart lays it’s eyes upon.




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 5 (Not Her, Just Sex)

16b6c489c08c44773415dc792267cbebI’m not even sure how long Aiyana has been talking. I catch myself absentmindedly nodding along. Hopefully she hasn’t realized my attention span was anywhere but on her. The women I have known don’t tend to admire that quality in a potential partner. Potential partner? Ok, not there yet. As I begin to gain some focus, my eyes clear, zoning in on her labret and the fullness of her lips. The labret is the same simple silver ball, her lips are however bare today. She wore a deep blood red lipstick the night we met. Now, today, natural. She is actually wearing hardly any makeup at all. I definitely prefer this natural look. I always thought that a woman who can be breathtakingly gorgeous without makeup is someone you’re not going to be afraid to wake up next to.

“What do you think?” Her question hit me like ice cold water on the nipples, awake now. Instead of sitting there with a blank stare pretending I had heard everything she just said, I was honest.

“I’m sorry, I kinda drifted off there for a minute. I’m sorry.” I learned awhile ago it is just better to be honest and clear through all the bullshit. Plus, I spent so many years as a selfish lying user, a lifestyle change was in order. Aiyana was not upset with my lapse of consciousness.

“That’s totally understandable. It happens and I kind of sensed you might have something on your mind.” She spoke the sentence kindly and with care.

I did begin to question her intentions though as she grabbed my right leg just above the knee as she spoke. My first response when she did it was to look around, like I was cheating on someone. Dee was nowhere around, she had left a while ago. Why the hell am I thinking of her? Ok, go away bad thought. Can’t think of that shit again. Besides, I have this gorgeous woman sitting here with me. She wants me and I’m getting pretty tired of fucking myself. I’m getting limited on things to think about and porn is even getting stale.

Anyway, with everything that has been going on I could use a good lay to decompress. I don’t want to think of Aiyana as only a piece of ass but we didn’t even speak to each other when we met and just attacked one another.

“Do you maybe want to come over to my place for a little while?” There was not a blink of her eyes as she spoke. Her eyes growing darker and more mysterious. Dumb question really I thought. I’m totally up for it unless she has some creepy “Beanie Baby” collection. I’m sure she doesn’t.

Her apartment was tidy enough. A few things out of place, a couple dirty dishes, laundry strewn about the couch. The place not dirty just a tad unkempt, which I like. A hint of outward imperfection has always been beautiful to me. I make my way over to the couch. It is a pleather type material, nice but if anything happens I don’t want to do it here. Nothing more embarrassing than your bare ass sticking to furniture when you’re trying to be sexy. She has changed into a more comfortable wardrobe of jeans and a simple white t-shirt. She wanders into the kitchen, her hips are definitely talking to me as she walks away.

“You want something to drink?” She asks, being the polite hostess. For a moment I picture her totally naked, only a white apron on with the words “fuck me now” written in dark red. Focus!

“Water would be great, thanks.”

She let’s out a subtle hint at a giggle. I quickly realize she knows nothing of my past and water may seem an unusual request. Well, I’ll save that for another date. Not quite sure though if this is a date but more a booty call.

As she sits down next to me and hands me the water I notice she has  water as well. Awesome I think, a form of mutual respect regardless if she knows or not. We sit next to one another, so close I can feel her left shoulder against my right. The moment seems to stand still and I fear she can hear my heart preparing to explode from my body.

I barely part my mouth to speak, she turns to me and places her hand in between my legs near my knees. As she touches me I splash a bit of water from my cup and onto my pants. She ignores my foul and looks into my eyes, almost through me. She is attempting to sense my willingness. It doesn’t take long for my body to scream yes to her.  She has already placed her own cup of water on the table and does the same with mine. Before I can even let my next breath out, the sweet softness of her lips are upon mine. Her hand begins to move slowly, almost deliberately slow. As I can feel the firm grasp of her hand move up my thigh she parts my lips with her tongue. The moist warmth of her tongue pulsates right through every part of my body, the most intensity being felt in my sudden swollen clit.

I’ve tried playing it cool up until this point but fuck it now. I grab her hips and she instinctively knows my wants. Quickly she straddles me, her hands wrap around the back of my neck. At this point our breathing has quickened. I almost feel I could cum at any moment. My breathing even more intense as I take my hands and grip her hips firmly, gently thrusting her back and forth against my pelvis. As she moves against my body her kisses become even deeper, harder, she bites my lower lip and sucks. She moans as she bites down on me. Her hips begin to move faster and the procrastination must stop, because we clearly can not. She rips the shirt from her body as fast as she has removed my own. Our bras being removed are just a blur.

I begin to think back to the problem of my bare ass sticking to the couch. Not wanting any embarrassing accidents happening, no fucking way, not now. I’m strong, she is petite, I take a chance. I stand up taking her with me, my hands grab hard onto her ass, her legs wrap tightly around me. She let’s out a long moan, breathy, into my ear. My skin tingles as I feel her wet mouth against my neck. I carry her to the bedroom and stop at the foot of the bed. I can now feel the firmness of her nipples against mine. As I lay her down she has already begun to unzip her pants. Fuck, she isn’t even wearing underwear this time and completely void of any hair. I peel her pants from her in a fashion mocking that of a table cloth being pulled from a table without spilling the plates. She is so swollen at this point that nothing can hide, nothing is left to the imagination. I grab the inside of both of her knees and spread her apart gently, opening her up to me, I see her lips bloom. She can feel even more, the more open she is for me. I can see that she is wet, she drips against her ass onto the sheets. I want every last drop, I want to swallow every last bit of essence from her.

I kneel down in front of her, her pelvis moving up and down steadily and slowly in anticipation. My tongue and every part of my mouth find her swollen clit. I can feel her throbbing against the soft tip of my tongue. I must have all of her wetness, heat in my mouth. I begin to suck the entirety of her clit, even more rigid now. She grabs the top of my head with her right hand and pushes my mouth even deeper into her.

“I need all of you inside of me!” Most breath taken from her at this point, the energy still apparent in her command. I am more than willing to accommodate any of her needs.

Who’s Dee?




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 7 (The Sentence)

images“Tap, tap, tap.” I know I just heard someone knock at the front door or at least some half ass attempt at a knock. Better get up before she does. Don’t want to deal with any kind of shit, big, small, or fucking in between. As I walk my mentally burned and worn out body I hear Moms cat Pickle yowl in the den. It sounds like her cry for attention. I’ll remember to give her a little snuggle time once I tell the asshole at the door I’m not interested. I almost trip into the foyer. Never could grasp why the foyer was about two inches shorter than the flooring in the rest of the house. Fucking thing is a freak accident waiting to happen. Some how though I have survived many times. I’ve tripped and busted my ass over it coming in through the front door completely wasted on nights I can’t remember. The bruises on my body the next day were the only indicators of a night that could have been quite good or have gone badly. I learned not to think too deep into “black outs.” Your friends always make sure to let you know what kind of asshole you were the night before.

As I open the door with an irritated, “What?” Twat is staring me in the face. She smirks for a second and in grand Twat fashion, “So I heard ya got some?” I uncomfortably smile back and pull her inside.

“Let’s go downstairs, don’t want to wake my mom up.” My speech is hurried.

“How’s she doing anyway?” The question almost sounded like Twat was interested in knowing how my whacked mom was doing.

I just let out a half cocked, “How do you think?”

From the look on Twats face she didn’t need to hear an explanation. My room is downstairs and I’m thinking not sure how long I’m going to be here this time. With my upcoming assault crap it may be a little longer than I had hoped. The thought of hanging myself from a bed sheet from the exposed piping in the basement flashes quickly through my mind.

The door to my room creaks as I open it letting Twat pass.

“At least it’s decent down here.” Sometimes I’m not sure if Twat even knows she’s being offensive. I don’t care anyway, I’ve known her long enough to know she means nothing by it.

“If I don’t keep it clean down here asshole, some sort of organization in my life, it may just be the push that throws me over.” That thought and the bitter imaginary taste of beer make me shiver in my moment of mental relapse. Better however than a “using dream.” Even though Dee and Twat still get in their share of trouble they have been more than supportive of my recovery. I keep them around for that reason and others. They both can get me pissing my pants when I need a good laugh and well Dee, yeah, well Dee.

“We don’t need you getting back into that shit.” Twat is legitimately concerned.

I simply utter back the obvious, “I remember, that’s not exactly something you forget.”

After a few minutes and some settling in sighs, Twat punches me in the leg. The twin bed shakes against the wall, quite the audible thud. Bringing girls down here back when was a challenge. Many times I just ended up propping them up on my desk, pushing a copy of, “The Clockwork Orange” off to the side as I dropped to my knees for a taste.

“So spill?” Twat clearly has waited long enough to get the word on my adventure or conquer. She finds either word appropriate no matter the company. For me, I’m not sure if either fit. I’m almost aggravated to even discuss it with her. I’m not embarrassed, hell no, the flood gates were very open with her. I’m just not sure how I feel about her and unlike Twat it is not in my character to have sex with anyone I don’t have some semblance of feelings for. It’s only been a few weeks and still a lingering intense feeling of guilt is thick within me. Confusing cause I don’t have a damn thing to feel guilty about. If anything it was well deserved, almost as awesome as my one year chip. I should be fist bumping with the butchies and grabbing my crotch.

“There’s nothing to really tell. It was sex.”

“Fucking fuck Burge, you know I need details. What the hell? It’s been months for you, months and you have absolutely nothing to say?”

All I see as Twat tries her best begging is Dee. Quickly, every last ounce of mental acuity left in me, I must change the topic. Twat senses my uneasiness and knows details are not going to happen, at least not today. She takes the lead and changes gears. The flash of oozing blood in a sink pops into my tired brain.

“When do you go in for the assault?” Twat is hesitant to ask.

“About two weeks. Public defender thinks I should just plead guilty. She’s pretty sure community service is the only thing in my future, it being my first offense.” In my moment of deep content Twat let’s out a humorous and guttural laugh,

“Thank fucking god you didn’t get caught for any of that other shit.” I definitely needed that. “Not to break this bonding moment between us but, how are you and Dee?”

Fuck, there it is! “I haven’t seen her in a few weeks so I’m not really sure.” This time instead of Twat punching me in the leg she just places her hand on my knee.

“I’m sure there’s not a damn thing to worry about. You guys have seen some shit. I don’t see anything ripping you guys apart.” Looking down at her hand and letting her know with my eyes that I accept what she has said, my mind and heart question differently.

The court room door opens behind me. God please, please, don’t be her. Where the hell is the fucking judge? My mind is all over the place. The old lady walks in, black suits her. Damn, I wonder what she is wearing underneath that robe? I love that I can still humor myself even in the most tense of situations. My hands begin to sweat. The anticipation, not knowing can motivate the most sane of individuals to do macabre things. My stomach begins to burn with the sensation one gets right before they shit their pants. Aiyana is here for support.

“Young lady, have you spoken with your counsel and how do you plead?” The depth of her voice was kind of hot. A soft cough from the back of the court room breaks the muggy silence. Instinctively I turn. Nobody can look at me like that. Aiyana, her eyes on me the entire time, behind her, Dee.





Burgess and the Brood Chapter 8 ( First Kiss)


7be06b21763685e8c5435c01ebe62c5e (2)Aiyana is sitting next to me on my right, her left hand on my knee. On the other side of the table Dee sits. I am ever presently aware of how uncomfortable I am. Everything about this situation sucks. The aroma of fresh coffee my only reprieve. I wonder if I’m the only one whose ass is starting to sweat. I sense Dee may feel edgy, Aiyana the one truly not in the know. At this point though, what is there really to know? There is a never ending quandary of speculation about my fucking feelings. All of which is driving me to the absolute brink of insanity. It’s not just the thoughts that fuck with me. I can feel a tingle and a burning start in my gut, lightening escapes my fingers every time I think of her. I tell her, I could lose her forever.

“So, at least it’s just a misdemeanor.” Dee speaks in a monotonous tone with a sort of labored laugh. When she does that I know she is uncomfortable.

“Yeah, thank god. Now I can run out and buy that gun I always wanted.” They both laugh at that one.

Good, tension feels like it’s starting to dissipate some. Maybe Dee and I can be, well, Dee and I. Aiyana, I sense not wanting to feel like a third wheel, speaks for the first time since we have sat down,”Where do you think you wanna do your community service?”

My answer is an irritated one. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.” I just want to talk about something else right now. The tension filled silence might just be fucking better.

They both sense my irritated tone and begin to speak at the same time. I chime in with one of my classic dork responses,”Jinx, ya owe me a soda.” Back in the day it used to be a beer.

Aiyana giggles softly. Dee knowing the dork inside of me let’s out an all knowing, there’s my dork sort of giggle with her own classic crooked smirk. Ok, were definitely back. I release a much needed sigh of relief.

“You alright?” Aiyana asks placing her hand on my arm. I hadn’t realized how noticeable the sigh was to anyone else.

“Considering everything, I’m actually ok. So what’s everyone doing tonight?”

Aiyana squeezes my arm gently,”Baby I’m working tonight.” I’ve just recently learned that Aiyana is an exotic dancer. I’m not even bothered by it. It kind of turns me on. “As a matter of fact I should probably get going. Takes a little while to get this looking pretty.”

She says that with a sexy gesture of her hand running along the length of her body. I’m not even sure what she means by it. Even when she’s not all “dolled up” she’s still gorgeous, and fuck, knowing what’s underneath. Aiyana leans over and places a tasty kiss on me with just a hint of tongue. Soft and warm.

“Oookaay.” There is an obvious sarcastic rhythm to Dees attempt of a humorous but annoying ok.

“So Dee, you just wanna come over to moms? She should be out tonight probably having a sleep over with whoever the fuck.”

Dee decides to pick the movie,”Better Than Chocolate” to watch tonight. When she mentions her interest in watching the damn movie for like the millionth time I try to sway her decision to something more barbaric like “300.” Yep, every single one of my efforts failed. Women and their romance stuff. Well, I think I’ll fake having to use the bathroom during the sex scenes. The movie starts and maybe in my state of anxiety, the next question just falls out before I even realize what I have said.

“What’s going on with Ginger?” The look on Dees face, yeah dumbass, you probably just should have stewed in your own tension and kept your fucking mouth shut. My mind screams this revelation. Now I’ll sit in my pot of guilt. I can see her eyes begin to tear up.

“I’m actually really grateful it’s over for good now. As scary as it was cause the abuse had become so normalized, it was my life. Adjusting to another way right now is still a real fear for me.”

I honestly was not expecting the response she gave. Not that I thought she would want to be back with her but, but I’m not really sure what I expected her to say. As she wipes away her tears, her voice shakes, “I’m scared.” I instinctively grab her hand.

At this moment our eyes dance to the slow song inside each one of us. This time were both sober. This time it isn’t funny. As a tear falls she leans into me and kisses my lips gently. I can taste her tears and it only draws me closer. Our kiss is more intimate than I have felt from anyone. Not deep physically, but emotionally. The lightening in me builds, I’m fearful of it’s release. Her lips part mine and she breaths into me.

“No.” I move away from her. “We can’t do this. You’re vulnerable right now and I will never, would never take advantage of that.”

I feel my own tears drop. I can taste her, I can taste myself. As she wipes the tears from my lips she looks into the depths of me I’ve never left open to anyone.

I just don’t want her physically, I want all of her. I want to know how she shakes inside when she loves or fears the unknown. I want to know what she’s thinking as her eyes spark when she calls me a punk. I want to know when her soul shines and when it breaks. I want to touch her with not just the tips of my fingers but with the edges of every part of my soul that has feared, been broken yet mourns no further.

To be continued………




Burgess and the Brood Vol. 2 Chapter 1 (Opening Up)

marlin barGod, making love to her. Nothing is as sweet. A folksy tune breaks my thoughts. Aiyana is up on the small stage in front of this quaint hippie bar playing a set. College students abound and the hint of sandalwood being a much invited soothing bliss to the atmosphere. Aiyana strums and sings to a smooth Melissa Ferrick melody. I’ve also recently discovered the talent she has and now witnessing it for the first time, she bestows upon the gathered masses a silky voice and rhythmic fingers. Her presence on stage is hypnotizing and she owns it. Exotic dancing is just a side note. She only does it to bring in the money needed for the expensive ass studio time and all else. It really doesn’t matter why she dances. In music and dancing she does both quite well. It seems to me that she has a fiesty Midas touch. I know everytime she touches me I light up everywhere and a silky flow starts between my thighs. I find my pulse start heavily as my lungs take control, I let out a long pleasing sigh. My thoughts triggered of sexed up memories of our night together. I wouldn’t mind the taste of her on my lips and fingers again.

I am the biggest fucking slut, asshole. At least in my thoughts. Here I am thinking of the sex I have had with one woman and the sex I almost had with another. This has been bothering me for weeks, about the same time since I saw Dee last. Did I lead her on? Was she just vulnerable? I know she was fucking vulnerable. That’s why you didn’t do it dumb ass. I wonder if she wants nothing to do with me now? This rambling, manic contemplation is not good sitting in a bar while one is in recovery. My mania is broken by the fumbling of a drunk and dreaded guy who has just spilled his shot of Patron near me. Man, I know that one hurt. Spilling a shot like that, you’re tempted to lick it off the bar no matter how many feces riddled fingers have dabbled upon it. The smell, I involuntarily inhale deeply. Ok, time to take a breather. I need to tell Aiyana. As I walk out Aiyana has finished her set and notices my hurried pace towards the door. Fearing I may look like some panicked crazy person, I slow my walk, at least attempt to. I’m sure my appearance has turned a nice verdant coloring. Aiyana starts over to me. I stop momentarily so as not to appear I am running from her. I begin to sense peoples inquisitive stares.

I have now reached a new level of uncomfortable in my emotions. My hope, Aiyana sees the signal in my body language. That signal screams, I need to get the fuck out of there! I begin counting my steps as I exit toward the door. Tunnel vision has set in. One goal. 6,7,8,9. I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok! Just need to get the fuck out, get the fuck out! You’re gonna lose it, I’m not gonna lose it! I watch my hand, fingers white, pulse beats through my flesh, push against the door. My mind takes the door off its hinges, metal bends, the woods splinters. My mind screams the thought, my body acts with an attempted deliberate action as not to invoke the feared question, “Who’s the crazy?” Fucking piece of shit door, you’re in my way!

I’m out, I’m out. The light, it feels good, safe. It blankets me, my mind. I’m alright, my breathing is good, calm, it’s coming back. Ok, ok, ok. I hear the door open behind me. I unclench my fists and eyes. I hope that attack was not as noticeable to everyone else as it was for my mind and body. My chest and skin like needles. A pressure building like gravity had turned a heavy syrup consistency. My awareness on high alert.

“You alright?” Aiyana’s gaze is wide.

“Yeah, I’m better now. Just needed to get out of there for a moment.”

Aiyana strokes my hair. I sit on the bench outside realizing I have been out here bent over with my fists on my knees. Outside a bar, I’m sure that looked like I was throwing up 2 years of sobriety. Fuck, hope none of my AA comrades saw it. All of us addicts are professional liars. They probably wouldn’t believe I was instead having an all encompassing debilitating panic attack. Well , maybe. I’ve redeemed myself a bit in those two years.

What the fuck was that attack about? The alcohol? The feeling I’m cheating on two different people? My mind is dizzy in question.

“What happened?” As Aiyana says it she sits down next to me and places her hand on my knee. She is truly concerned. Just tell her.

“The walls just started moving in on me. Getting crowded and all.” True I say to myself but some I am also lying by omission. Fucking addict, fucking liar. It was never this hard with Dee. It was always just natural. I just have to get to that state of “natural” with Aiyana. “I don’t do very well in bars.” I give Aiyana a side glance hoping she has gotten the subtle hint of what I’m trying to say.

“I was kinda wondering about that. You never get anything with alcohol.” What a relief, my mind eases. My sigh is audible to her. It’s out and she still likes me, wants to be around me.

“I have a couple close friends in recovery. I should have maybe said something. I’m sorry.” As she says it she takes my hand.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. It’s my deal.” I feel a bead of sweat race its way down the back of my ear.

As I finish the words, without a blink her grasp on me intense but soft,  “Its our deal now.”




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 2 (Not With Dee)


“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” I scream at Aiyana in a high pitched whimpering voice. A few breathy labored laughs bellow out during our struggle.

“Aw, come on. You know you like it. It looks like I have found your sweet spot.” A sinister smile appears upon Aiyanas face.

Aiyana roars with laughter, “bam.” My body has managed to squirm off the side of the bed. I straight back plant onto the floor. Yep, that was unpleasant. Yet the coolness of the wooden floor is inviting for my now irritated back and ass. Some how I was able to keep my head up. If it had been a fall from a couple of stories I would like to think I could tuck and roll. Then again that may not be a wise decision in a fall like that. I guess ultimately, a fall like that, you just pray to bounce and survive.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Aiyana leans over the side. I guess noticing the position I have landed in and maybe even the look on my face, she loses it with a raucous laughter I had never heard from her before.

“Ha, ha, ha, haaaa…………”

Ok, I could break this laughter with the embarrassing incident that happened between us last night when we were having sex. I had my fingers inside of her from behind. She was on all fours and moaning in a way that I could sense her orgasm soon releasing. Her tightening around me and with her wetness beginning to flood my fingers,  her orgasm eminent. Then it happened. She let out the most audible queef. My head blew up.

“Oh my fucking god! Keep going Burgess? Stop?” I asked this to myself in a hurried panic. I was actually more worried about her embarrassment. She had slowed down for a moment, sensing if I was going to stop, maybe bust out laughing. Her actions were telling me to take control, make the decision. I thought of the only thing I could to alleviate any tension and pass the moment quickly. Her gorgeous ass in front of me, I penetrated her deeper and more intense with my right hand. With my left I grabbed her hips firmly and thrust them against my fingers to go as deep as her moans indicated I could. She tightened firmly around my fingers clearly not wanting me to stop. I leaned over her back so she could feel the soft touch of my hardened nipples against her. I slowly began to suck and bite the slope where her shoulder meets her neck. She moaned louder, longer, her hips pulled me in deeper, cuming all over my fingers.

Shaking my head, I realized being an ass would not be optimum for me with my future endevours with her. I know she has a good sense of humor but bringing that up now might not be too fun for me or both of us for that matter. Plus, the moment was ultimately a good time and fucking hotter than hell. Slowly picking my naked self off the floor Aiyana is still laughing. I watch her crumpled in the covers, naked, covering her face to muffle her crazy laughs. I realize I have the biggest chesire grin on my face.

“Ok sexy lady. My turn to find your sweet spot.”

“No, no, Burgess. I give up, I give up!” Aiyana screams through her laughs.

Like last night, I’m sure the neighbors hear us. I don’t even give a shit.

I decided for my community service I would volunteer at our local food bank. I can’t think of a better way to give back to my own community. After I complete my community service I would like to think I will continue to do it on my own even with a real job. It’s getting even more unbearable living with mom, worse than before. Sometimes I wonder how different it might be if dad was still around. I like everyone who works here, especially the director. She’s like the mother I never had. Her name is Gina and she is about fifty something. The food bank here is run by the local Catholic Church. I always had an aversion to organized religion. Being raised Catholic didn’t help matters. Even the mere hint of that thought seems sacrilegious to me.

I would hate to have to go back in the closet to do my community service here. Granted it’s not a paid position by any means but it worries and angers me that we finally have marriage equality in this state but then the next day can get fired from our jobs. Doesn’t make much sense. What’s been really awesome though, even with me wearing the gay “uniform”, nobody here has even looked at me sideways. They are some of the most humbled women I have ever met. I do enjoy their rants between one another discussing religion and politics. It’s not hard to figure out who leans which way. I still stay out of those discussions though. I can sometimes not think before I speak.

I’m sorting cans for the moment. Vegetables, mixed, corn, green beans, etc. character building. Monotonous however so I find my thoughts wandering. I wonder how Dee is feeling? What she is doing?

Dee is hesitant to open the coffee shop door. Her fingers noticeably shaky. She swings her hand gently to her chest catching the sense that her breathing has quickened. A patron rushes out almost knocking her over with the door.

“God please let me be early” Dee prays to herself.

Dee opens the door and sees her. No distractions, just her. Dee labors a half cocked smile. Ginger smiles back.




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 3 (The Heart Bleeds)

ER-care (2)Beep…..beep…..beep. Talk about a monotonous fucking job, especially this damn task. Well it’s a job, I think with disdain. “I’ll keep this cashier job at the South Market until at least I can afford to move into a place of my own. Shit, maybe Twat would move in with me and share the rent and stuff? God, where the hell has she been?”

“Speaking of the devil. How the hell are you?” I just realized I had been talking to myself the pretty much the whole time. Well that’s what has kept me sane, well level at least. Twat is just giving me a half cocked look.

“I’ve been around, you know.” Twat half smirks with an evil grin. “You must have been pretty deep in thought. You didn’t even realize it was me in your line.” She giggles some.

“You’ve been around? Well, it explains the neoprene gloves and coconut oil.” I smirk my own evil grin.

I finish checking twat out. She bags her own things. Maybe she’s afraid I might jinx her little sex kit with my bad vibes or something and doesn’t want me touching the stuff. Twat would do such a thing cause of some sex superstition. She tries to never let anything ruin her conquests of the female persuasion. As she finishes bagging the last of her things, the last item, popsicles and I don’t even want to know, she asks if I’m going on a break soon. My line is starting to fill up so in a hurried stammering sense I tell her in about ten minutes. She mentions she’ll be waiting outside. A few minutes later, Christy, another cashier comes to relieve me for my break.

“So still smoking the cancer sticks?” I sarcastically undertone my dislike of Twats smoking.

“Fuck you Burgess. You know you’re borderlining on being one of those douche reformed smokers.”

“Jeez Twat, just giving ya shit.” Half lie. “So what’s up?” I ask with a little concern on my tongue.

“It’s nothing bad but I know you’ll have some sort of smartass opinion so just let me finish before you nail into me.” As Twat is telling me this she is slightly laughing. I’m not sure if it because she is nervous of my reaction or cause, well, she’s a smartass as well. “I’ve kinda met someone.”

“Twat you’re always meeting someone.” Yep, I’m a smartass dipshit.

“Burgess, damn it, like I said. Can I just finish before you start in on me with your douche bag comments.” Twat is a most definite irritated butch of a woman at the moment.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” My thoughts tell their disdain to me. Burgess….shut the fuck up!

After a drawn sigh Twat begins again. “I’ve met someone and I think I may be in love.” I know Twat can see my mouth begin to part. Her tone again irritated. “Uh,uh,uh god damn it, wait or next time I’m just walking away. This is important to me. I’m being fucking serious. Ok, she’s my age, no kids, she’s bisexual which is not even an issue. Shes a student studying Criminal Justice at the University. I, we, were, were gonna get married. Ok, now your turn Burge, you go.”

I don my serious mode. “First the way you mentioned the whole bisexual thing, did you think I might have a problem with that? Many of my best lovers have been bisexual, you know that. Anyway, she sounds like your type. The only thing I am concerned with is how much both of you still don’t know about one another. Does she know how many women you have been with? I would think that is something she should probably know.”

“I have told her and she has said it is in the past and doesn’t change how she feels about me. If I don’t have a problem with her having slept with men then I don’t know why she would have a problem with the amount of women I have been with. I don’t see her having a problem being with a reformed slut.” Twat gives me her classic big toothy smile. I can relax a bit now.

The smartass can now come out of me. “Well I would rather be a reformed smoker than a reformed slut.” Our laughs are contagious together.

Our boisterous laughing is cut short, the assistant manager comes out to tell me my break is over and that my mom is on the phone. He’s a fuck bag dick.

“Yeah mom, what’s up? I told you not to call here unless it is important.”

“It is. I guess the hospital has my number as the last contact from Dee. They found it in her records and you are listed as the emergency contact. They wouldn’t tell me what was going on. Pat, they are trying to find her next of kin…….”

I didn’t even wait, the phone was hung up before she could even finish the last few words. I ran into the back employees area to grab my shit and let the manager know a friend is in the hospital and I have to leave.

“You haven’t worked here long enough to take any time off. Finish your shift or you’re fired.” His tone is full bore asshole, douchebag, heartless mother fucker.

My parting words only, “I hope you find that level of zen in your life that keeps people from telling you, fuck you!”

As I run out Twat is still outside in her car. I run up to the drivers side door out of breath and scaring the shit out of her.

We get to the hospital. My heart still pounding, I walk quickly to the front desk. Almost incoherent

“Deeandra Espinoza she’s been admitted.”

The nurse behind the desk calmly asks, “Ma’am are you family and what is your name?”

I said the only thing I could think to say. “I’m Pat Burgess, she is my wife.”

“Ok ma’am just give me a moment to find out what is going on.”

It feels like hours waiting for the nurse to return with what I hope is good news. I notice a doctor approaching. Now my heart has practically stopped and my hands begin to sweat.

“Are you Mrs Burgess?”

“Yes ma’am, what the hell is going  on?

“We have Deeandra stabilized at the moment. She has suffered a head injury and has multiple fractures to her body. We have her in an induced coma.”

The last few words become fuzzy. My eyes glaze and my knees buckle.

Fade to black………




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 4 (Forever I Hold)

article-hands-hospital-bedSleep is for the dead. Her hands and feet are usually cold. Her hands are warm now. I can feel her pulse through my own as I hold hers. Her entire vibe is relaxed, more so than I have ever seen. Her eyes aren’t squinty with a crunched up brow. Her shoulders aren’t hunched over in the way she does to guard herself and exude some kind of invisible cock strut swag she likes to think she owns. I know different. Her hard shell makes me love even more what is on the inside, mostly because she lets me in.

“Hey.” Aiyana’s voice is a striking whisper into the room of bored white walls and eerily melodic beeps. I flinch some, I went deep in my thought not expecting any interruption for awhile at least.

“What are you doing here?’ My tone is irritated and the expression on Aiyana’s face confirms it.

“I went to the store to just say hi to you and the manger told me that you were here. I kinda lied and told the nurses that I was your sister so they let me back here. Is that ok that I am here?” Aiyana’s eyes begin to glisten.

“No, no, its fine, its ok. I am just a little fucked up right now. Did you see Twat out there?

“Yeah. She left.She said she couldn’t take it and was gonna leave, get some fresh air.”

I chuckle to myself thinking how Twat probably mentioned the fresh air thing as she was pulling out a smoke from her pocket. Also amusing, Twat is the “toughest” of all of us but when it comes down to this shit, she can be just as vulnerable. Aiyana notices my slight smile.

“Watcha thinking about?”

I straighten up and just tell her its nothing. I don’t want to break Twats rough exterior down with an open acknowledgement to another person that’s she is a big softy, human like the rest of us.

“Pat?” Alex, the R.N. who has been attending to Dee primarily, pokes his head in. He is a handsome guy. He sports a peace tattoo on his lower left arm and some small gauges. We’ve  bonded over this shitty situation. His sympathetic bed side manner is appreciated.

“Yeah?” My tone is now as relaxed as it can be given the moments current undertakings.

“There are a couple officers out here who want to speak with you if you wouldn’t mind?”

I get up slowly almost hesitating. I don’t want to leave, leave her. If I am here with her then everything will be ok, has to be ok. As I let go of her hand I turn back to look at her. She is still the most beautiful thing I have ever touched with my eyes.

“Do you mind if I go with you?” Aiyana seems uncomfortable. I simply utter yes and she follows me out of Dees room.

“Ms. Burgess? This is officer Anderson and I am officer Thomas. We just want to ask you a couple of questions. Would that be ok?” Both officers have a rigid stand to them in hopes conveying to me their seriousness of the situation. I get it.

“Sure, anything and everything I can do I will.” I sense something building up in Aiyana. Is she getting apprehensive of my care for Dee? At this point, any kind of uneasiness or whatever can wait.

“Ok. first. We know of the problems that Ms. Espinoza has had in the past with her ex. and have spoken with the ex. Do you know though if they have been spending any time together? In contact of any kind?”

My heart falls into my stomach. God, what if she has been speaking with her? met up with her? If she has, why wouldn’t she at least tell me?

“No sir, I don’t know if they have been meeting up. I haven’t seen Dee in a little while. Good God, I need to sit down.” I grab for the chair sitting outside of the room and slowly lower myself onto its shitty vinyl cover and metal legs. I can feel the coolness of the metal against my left leg. The feeling calms my dizzying head for a moment.

“Ms. Burgess, when was the last time you saw or spoke with Dee?’ Officer Thomas burrows his forehead even more deep. He is all professional.

“Probably a month ago, I think.” Aiyana places her hand on my shoulder.

“What did you guys talk about?”

The question seems pointless. How the fuck is what we talked about gonna make any kind of difference? With Aiyana standing right here I don’t want to accidently hint at anything that we did, almost making love.

“We just talked about her relationship with Ginger and all that’s happened with it, andER-care (2) everything, about it.” I stammer a bit. Covering up not to the cops but obviously Aiyana . Shit that response might just look bad to everyone. As I finish the sentence I can see out of the corner of my eye, Alex and some other hospital staff hurry down the hallway toward us. God? I quickly and instinctively stand up.

“Stay out here please.” one of the staff yells to me as they slightly push against my shoulder.

The door closes like molasses. There is no time. One place stands still at the very edges of my heart. Dees mouth is slightly parted. Machines roar their macabre tune inside my head. Goddamn it! If I am with her then it will be ok, it has to be ok. My mind fires in agony. If I’m fucking with her I can breathe with her. When her pulse beats, mine beats with hers.

Everything in me lives cause she does…….




Burgess and the Brood Chapter 5 (Relapse)

close-up-on-two-shots-of-whiskey-clean-shot_z1dqr3z-b__S0000 (2)The thud of the shot glass upon the decrepit bar is heard by all in the room. Eyes turn towards me, by this point nothing matters. I notice water rings upon it and what I’m sure are the stains of tears of triumph and tragedy. There aren’t too many patrons in this shit hole bar. This shit hole serves its purpose though. I walked here from the hospital. Walking works for me, when I get fucked up enough it will be an adventure.

“My god, I thought I would find you in here. Hoped to fuck I wouldn’t but here you are. Classy place you picked.” Aiyanas voice cuts through the thick of fog circling inside my head. I look over my shoulder half wanting it not to be her. I slip off of my stool slightly in the progress, saving myself against the bar. No, that wasn’t embarrassing.

“What the hell. How many of those have you had?” Aiyana does not sound concerned more like pissed off.

“Well ya know.” I deliberately attempt to talk like molasses as not to stumble over my words and/or slur in the slightest. “I been sitting here for the pasts hour trying to come up wit every justication I could to just shoot one back. I thought; well I have been sober now two years, lets celbrate.”

That didn’t feel right, really none of it did. So I realized I just needed one justification. The best one, just fucking drink. No excuses needed. I don’t even give a fuck what person I am tonight or the demon I wake up with tomorrow. Aiyana has blossomed into crimson hostility.

“That is such bullshit! You care about not being weak, not being controlled, being all fucking strong.”

Its never a good idea to yell at a drunk with a mood that can change faster than a thought or a whores underwear on a busy night. Now I’m getting pretty irritated. “You know Aiyana, I’m perfectly fhine, fhine enough to know that you’rrre killing my buzz and I would be much happier, if you just went home and left me alone.

“What the fuck is this really fucking about?” Aiyana’s tone is coated with a hint of sarcastic disdain.

“Well I’m glad you asked that. Could we please talk outside?” Now I am n ear the closest edge to descending into a fuck ass mood. ”

“Try not to stumble too much.”Now Aiyana is just being a total bitch.

I stumble removing my numbed ass from the bar stool. I catch myself again. Guess Aiyana called that one. Its still light outside. The sun burns itself through my light eyes. I turn my body into the cool shade just outside the door of the bar.

“Ok Aiyana, shoot. Ask whatever the hell you want to. Just gonna warn you that I’m feeling brave right now and what might come out may be the truth.”

“Good Burgess, that’s kinda what I was hoping for. So, I’ve noticed this kind of closeness between you and Dee. Its been making me uncomfortable. Fuck, have you guys been hooking up? Friends with ‘benefits’?”

As she asks me the friend thing she does air quotes. God, annoying.

“Well?” Now the look on her face is worried.

“Aiyana do you even realize what you have just asked? Something tragic has just fucking happened and you come at me with the most selfish question. She’s fucking laying in a cold ass fucking hospital bed and God knows what’s going to happen. Does any of that even matter now god damn it! This is not about you!”

“No, its obviously all about you. That’s apparent. Would you like another?” She has a point.

“Fuck you Aiyana!”

“Wow, spoken like a true drunk there Burgess.”

“Ok, what, what, what? What the fuck do you want from me?” I am quite angry now and not sure what it is I am exactly mad at. Is it really Aiyana? No, its me. Aiyana gently places her hand upon my shoulder.

“Burgess, I’m in love with you.”

“Aiyana, god, Aiyana you shouldn’t have said that”  Now I’m starting to get nauseated. The back of my throat starts to feel it.

“Why? Why not? You are fucking her!”

“God damn it! no, we are not fucking!”

Aiyana raises her right hand to her chest like the breath has been taken from her. “My god, you love her?”

“Aiyana I just said we are not fucking. Wait, what?”

“Burgess, ok, you’re not fucking. But fucking and being in love with someone are two very different things. God look at you. Look at everything that you have just thrown to hell. Burgess, she didn’t even die.”

“And death and suffering are two very different things Aiyana. She lays up there, wholonely-person-thumb-300x240-27530.jpg knows if she makes it, what kind of person or life she will have if she does make it through. Death can be welcomed, suffering usually isn’t. I cant stand the thought of her suffering.”

Aiyana begins to sob. I see her hands begin to shake and her voice cracks.

“You know where I am when you sober up and you can decide what it is that you want.”

I watch Aiyana walk away. Care is a far away concept for the moment. At once I grab for the brick wall. I throw up every ounce of dignity and hopefully every last drop of the tequila that lay heavy in my gut. A drunken epiphany comes upon me as I lower my wasted ass onto the cement ground. Sweat trickling down the back of my neck. I whisper my indignation to myself.

“That’s it, that’s my justification. Suffering, I cant let her suffer alone. I have always been the master at orchestrating my own suffering. What the hell would she think of me right now? You pathetic piece of shit.”

The tears feel more real than they ever have before.


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 6 (She Comes Back to Me)

imagesRDEX8PMLIts been a little over a week since my relapse and the possibility of losing Dee forever. I’m riddled with an obnoxious guilt. Dee however is always my main focus. The debilitating guilt can wait a while longer. When I can breathe a little easier I will worry then. It is just the two of us. The way I prefer it. The room has a coolness to it that the metal can feel like ice. I hold onto her left hand. Sometimes I forget just how tight I can be holding. My grip on her at times can be subconscious. Its the way I would hold onto her if she were falling. I’m clenching her hand tight again as I read her some Keats. She loves Keats and I always read to her when she is hurting or anxious. I’m reading one of our favorites, “To”

“And thy humid eyes, that dance in the midst of their own brightness, in the very fane of lightness; over which thine eyebrows, leaning, picture, out of each lovely meaning”

I stop reading. I can feel the tears begin to flood the corners of my eyes. I cant go weak on her again. I have to be here for her. I hear it. Its breathy and labored but I know I’ve heard it.

“Don’t stop.”

My sullen body and heavy head spark awake. Her eyes are closed. Did I really hear it? I begin to feel her fingers gently rub against the palm of my hand. Her eyes open slowly. They are light and seek out the details of the room like a newborns first awakening. I can see awareness come back to her slowly. Her eyes stop inside mine. I let her gaze into me as long as she needs or wants.


I know she knows it is me. Her question I know is for reassurance. I”m still holding her and bring her fingers to my lips and gently kiss them.

“Yeah, its me, I’m not going anywhere.” My smile grazes against her hand.

I’ve been blessed with this moment as she has. In my awe of the present happenings, it dawns on me that it might be appropriate to get someone. They may want to know that she is awake and aware, well, aware enough. I rush from the chair and exit the room as quick as I have ever moved. Knocking the stool over in the process and almost busting my ass on the hard floor, I don’t give a shit. I stop at the first person I see adorning any kind of hospital garb. I almost run into a forty something African American woman. Quite attractive. I’m out of breath, heart racing, my words are barely audible.

“Please, come, my friend, she’s waking up.”

She is not startled and appears to know exactly what I am referring to. She hurries to the room, I follow behind her. As we enter Dee moves slowly but uncomfortably. I am sure she is in some pain and the catheter can not be pleasant. Always hated those fucking things. Constant urgency to pee even if you really didn’t. I’ll definitely be there to hold her hand when they take the bitch out. When Dee sees me following behind the doctor she smiles her classic crooked grin. She struggles with pain to smile so it means even more to me. The doctor checks her vitals and asks her a few basic questions.

“Good morning. Do you know where you are at?”

Though struggling still, Dee lets out a classic response I am all too familiar with.

“From the smell of it, the hospital.”

The doctor is not sure whether to laugh or not. I don’t hesitate. I let out a muffled snort.

“Do you know your name sweetie?”

“Yes, Dee Espinoza. My middle name is sexy.”For what Dee can, she lets out a subtle and hoarse laugh.

No doubt in the comic relief that is Dee, the doctor laughs. As the doctor finishes the questions she turns to me to let me know that she will have to let the police know that she is awake. She assures me that she will let Dee adjust for awhile before calling them. “To clear the clouds” as she puts it. The room is ours again. I pick up the stool I had knocked over in my haste. As I sit I ask Dee how she is feeling.

“Was that a stupid question?”

“God Burge, no. I’m hurting but feel like I’ve slept for days.”

Oh god, that’s right. No one has told her she has been out for a few weeks. Good god, I’mgiphy-facebook_s.jpg not sure I want to be the one who breaks that to her. Pushing the words out Dee asks me one of her usual stud questions.

“How do I look Burge?”

“Well Dee, beat up but beautiful.” And I mean it with the biggest jerk smile on my face.

“You’re a punk. Burge, I’m hurtin.”

“Ok, I’ll be right back Dee.”

Just as I begin to get up the doctor and a nurse come in. They begin to explain to me that they are going to start Dee on a drip to manage her pain levels. After all has been prepared, they explain to both of us how to use it. Mostly they are explaining it to me so I can show Dee later if she is too groggy at the moment. Dee pumps the first couple of drops.  As she does that I ask her what we have all been wanting to know.

“Hey Dee, what the hell happened?” Not sure if I wanted to know the response more than I needed to know, Dee slurs

“Ssshinger.” Dee drifts away from me.


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 7 (Arrested Again)

arrested-in-handcuffs (2)I’ve returned home, well moms home. I’m going over applications and my shitty resume. What is your best quality? Being an addict. What is your worst quality? Being an addict. While this process of filling out applications has been tedious and a reminder of just how lacking I am of any positive qualities, it has been a welcomed distraction for the moment. Dee is still at the hospital and resting peacefully in the euphoria of a morphine drip. I’m gonna head back there in about an hour. I want to be there when she wakes up and the cops start questioning her. I know she’ll want me there. That last thing she said before passing out has been haunting me. I know she said that fucking bitches name. Burgess, you gotta calm down. Anger is obviously not going to get you anywhere and it definitely will not be helping Dee any. I’ve been talking with myself even more lately. Aiyana is pissed off with me and we haven’t spoken for a while. Not sure if I would be able to open up to her. I’m kinda not so pleased she is upset with me. It is my own damn fault though. I am a drunken indecisive wreck. She deserves better than that. God, I really do like her and she does treat me well, and god, loves me. Fuck it, she probably wants nothing to do with me anymore anyways.

Ok, back to these applications. What job do I really want? The custodial position cleaning rancid clogged toilets or flipping the remnants of dead animals on hot stoves? Damn choices. Let me skim that paper one more time. Never know, there may just be that perfect even more demeaning job to apply for.

“Hey mom. Where you been?”

“Jesus Christ Patricia! Can I go anywhere without you fucking asking where I have been?”

“Well, Jesus Christ mom I was just trying to start a friendly conversation. If you have such a problem with me, why’d you say I could stay here?”

“I figured you could help out with a few bills. If you must know I will be in my bedroom.” She swings open the fridge to grab whatever cheap bottle of alcohol that just happened to be on sale that week. She’ll go through that fifth tonight. I think she has already started her one woman party down at the local dive. Great, I get the fun part. Oh my god! Am I my mother? Fuck, let’s not open that door yet. I’m sure years of counseling in the future, talking through mommy issues, will answer that one. The banter again that I am having with myself is interrupted by the squeal of the phone. I hope it’s the hospital letting me know that Dee is awake. I’m at the phone by the third ring.

“Hello.” It’s the hospital. Dee is awake and asking for me. Mom has left her keys out on the counter and I want to get there as fast as I can. I don’t give a shit, I’m taking her Buick. As I get to the hospital I see officer Thomas and Anderson walking in. that last name is odd to me. I don’t like its roll off the tongue. Ok weirdo more important things to attend to. For some reason I want to catch up to them and walk with them. I want to let them know what Dee had said to me but she might just tell them. Whatever, I’ll just hang back. I’ll see them in a couple of minutes. Finally getting up here I see my way to the room. The officers are already in there and the door is open. Right before I enter one of the nurses stops me and motions for me to sit down. He tells me if they need me, they’ll bring me into the room. Damn it! I know she wants me with her. I’m sitting close to her room and with the door open you would assume I could hear what is being said. Nope, can’t hear a fucking thing. Just mumbled voices. They begin to sound like the parental figures in the “Peanuts” shows. After a few frustrated minutes of fiercely closed eyes in an attempt to hear better, I give up and walk down stairs to one of the vending machines.

Oh, those look good, animal crackers. Maybe a little ironic considering I’m a vegetarian, but it sounds like a good choice. I insert my last dollar into the machine, gently pushing b4 in hopes that might aid the package from getting hung up on the moving thingy. I can relax, they didn’t get caught, a success. Nowadays even these small accomplishments I celebrate. The moment I return upstairs officer Anderson comes out of the room and walks to the nurses’ station. I can hear him ask for me. The cute blond nurse simply points in my direction. I hold up my hand to gesture I’m here and basically what’s going on. Officer Anderson just lets me know that Dee wants me in the room.

Dee looks quite uncomfortable. Not just from the pain but she also has the look of utter irritation across her face. I almost laugh. She rolls her eyes. As I stand there with my hand propped onto the metal railing of Dee’s bed, I’m confused. Why have they even been in here for as long as they have? I know what she said to me, I know what I heard. She said Ginger. Well a slurred Ginger. I’m assuming that is what happened, Ginger is what happened. Maybe I didn’t hear it? I shake my head slightly to wave off any doubt in my thoughts and look at the officers.

“Did she tell you anything? Dee I’m sorry I didn’t mean to talk like you’re not here.”

Officer Thomas’s response seems almost as confused as my question.

“Well, no, not really. Dee said she can only remember heading over to the coffee shop you guys like to hang out at and everything gets fuzzy. Sorry Ms. Espinoza.”

“That’s fine, I’m used to being invisible.” Dee is clearly in pain and is done.

I know she just doesn’t want to tell them. God, she is probably humiliated. Ginger is smaller than her and can play the victim well. Dee has told me a couple of times how during a fight Ginger would threaten that if Dee called the cops who would they believe. Talk about living in a fucking prison, emotionally and mentally. They have to know even if it means she doesn’t say another word to me in her lifetime. The officers take notice of her pain as well and tell her it is enough for today and to get some rest. They thank her for her time on the way out. As soon as we are out of the room I intend to tell them what she had said to me. Out in the hallway I place my hand on officer Thomas’s shoulder to spill Dee’s secret. We notice another officer approaching and they greet her by her name.

“Ms. Burgess?” she asks sternly pulling handcuffs from behind her. In any other situation this would be the beginning to a grand night of role play and bondage. At this moment, not so much.

“You’re under arrest for grand theft auto.”

“That fucking bitch!” But I’m really not even surprised.


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 8 (Our First Time)

16b6c489c08c44773415dc792267cbebDee has been staying at my mom’s place with me for about a month now after her long enough stretch in the hospital. Mom ended up dropping the charges against me for “stealing” her Buick. In between babysitting my mother during her drunken bouts and blackouts, I’ve been helping Dee. During all of it I still have managed to land a pretty cool job, “Bushes Landscaping.” I love the manual labor and the pay is decent enough. One of the perks is garnishing a sexy farmer’s tan. God, it’s amazing where my mind can go when I’m on the can. There’s a subtle knock at the front door. God damn it! Pinching it off in the middle is never fun. The new issue of “People” will have to wait as well. Quickly yet thoroughly I wipe my ass. Hopefully it’s not mom stumbling home drunk from the bar and having forgotten her fucking keys for the millionth time. As soon as I open the door Twat rushes through and gives me one of her famous bear hugs lifting me about a foot off the ground.

“Where in the hell have you been Twat? Have you heard?”

Twat lets go of me and places her hands on her hips. She dips her brow in a deep worry.

“Man, yeah I’ve heard. God, is Dee ok? Are you ok?

“Yeah were fine. Dee is doing much better. She’s downstairs. She’s here until she completely heals up. It’s not good for her to be couch surfing being all beat up and shit. Not that she could. Hey, where’s that girlfriend of yours? What’s her name?”

“Burge, Debbie is out in the car. Wasn’t sure if I should bring her in or not with everything going on. Oh, by the way, she’s my wife now.”

I have never since I have known Twat, seen her smile so damn big that it even blocks out the sun itself. It even made me smile and feel, as much as I can, what she is feeling. Her whole demeanor is soft and gentle. Wow, I think I may be seeing a change in Twat. I couldn’t be happier for her.

“God damn! Congratulations! I’m really happy for ya man. Well fuck, go get her. I need to meet the woman who has settled your skeezy ass down.”

As Twat turns to get her wife I step out onto the porch in anticipation. In all her chivalry, Twat opens the door for her beloved and puts out her hand to help Debbie up. At first I only see her hair. A red so brilliant with tints of gold. Her eyes meet mine and I can see the emerald sparkle from them even at the distance I am from her. Her skin is fair, so pure. Man, I guess there really is a God to create something that beautiful. What the hell am I doing? No, no, no, you’re not thinking anything about Twats girl. She’s just beautiful. And who doesn’t want to look at that. Anyway. Twat walks up onto the porch holding her hand. I extend my hand out to her.

“Well, it is finally nice to meet you Debbie.”

Debbie smiles a most elegant earthy smile and tells me the same.

“I hope anything Twat has told you has all been good.” I say bashfully.

Debbie looks me right in the eye in the most sarcastic tone, even better than Twats, and gives me a hint at what Twat could have been telling her.

“I wouldn’t exactly say it was all good but that is all up to perspective, but mine is usually right, maybe not all good.”

She definitely has a sense of humor and I definitely don’t want to know what it is that Twat may have told her. I take them into the house to go see Dee. Dee’s not looking anywhere as bad as she had but she is still sore and still can’t remember too much of what happened. As always though, the most beautiful woman. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell is going on inside of me?

“Hey Dee, guess who’s here to see your lame ass?” I come in all giggly trying to pull off my best Jim Carrey.

Twat knows she can’t give Dee her customary bear hug so she just nestles in beside her and kisses her on the forehead.

“Love you bro. I’ve been scared to death about ya Dee.”

“Nothing to worry about. I’m doing awesome, and plus I’ve got the good stuff.”

There is an uncomfortable pause in the room. Finally Twat introduces Dee to Debbie.

“Wow!” Dee’s eyes grow a little larger. Yeah, I agree with Dee on that one.

“Hey guys I don’t mean to jet so early but we are apartment hunting and we have an appointment to go look at one in about fifteen minutes. I wanted to make sure to stop by and introduce Debbie to you but mostly to make sure everyone was doing ok.”

“That’s fine Twat. Were all good here.” Dee’s voice calm and devoid of any kind of pain.

“Twat, Debbie, I’ll walk you guys out.” I feel the gentlemen right now and like it as usual on the days I feel like my man self.

“Naw man, that’s cool we know our way out.” Twat winks at me. Twat the butch is back. We’ve always had this unspoken competition of the cocks between us. I simply laugh to myself. As they leave I yell to them.

“Dumbass, come around more often!”

I can’t see Twat but I imagine her flipping me off. I go and sit down on the bed next to Dee.

“How ya feeling?”

“I’m good Burge. Just a little sore.”

“Hey Dee, when you were in the hospital just waking up, you called me Pat. Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I barely remember it.”

At that moment the walls begin to trap me in. My pulse hurries, my hands begin to sweat. The pressure that builds in my chest gets heavier. I know this is the beginning of a panic attack. Dee notices and sits up. She rubs my back and tells me of beautiful things. How the grass smells after it has been cut, the buzz of a humming birds wings, the splash of a waterfall as it makes love to the still waters below. She has always had the touch to calm me down from a panic attack. My breathing and pulse slow, my hands dry and the monster inside my chest runs away. I am acutely aware once again that it is just us. We are yet again in an intimate moment. At least it feels intimate to me. As my thoughts struggle of the moment Dee leans into me from the side and softly kisses me below the ear. Ok, I think she feels it too.

7be06b21763685e8c5435c01ebe62c5e (2)Oh god, we can’t do this again. Before I am even aware if I really want to do it, she places her hand on the side of my face. The hazel in her brown eyes grabs onto me. We kiss. Her lips and tongue start on my lower lip. I don’t kiss back just yet. I want the silk of her tongue and the warmth of her mouth to take mine into her. She parts my lips with hers and I can feel her tongue, moist and delicate enter my mouth slowly. I close my mouth around her tongue and suck gently. I need to taste everything like it will be my last time. I think it’s going to happen, I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to stop it. I want her, I need her, all of her.

I place her upon the bed with my chest. My arms lower her strongly. We are still engaged in our kiss and I feel her fingers find for the edges of my shirt. A bit hurried she pulls my shirt off and her body slows again. I pull her shirt up just to above her breasts. My fingers of one hand search for her erect nipple and I rub her gently, hardening it more. I kiss and play with my tongue upon her other nipple. Her pinked bump like velvet I feel grow harder in my mouth. I feel for her shorts and run them down her legs and off. Her legs are strong and I long to have them wrapped around my waist as I thrust against her clit. My fingers find their way to the floods that have run between her thighs. I exhale deeply realizing I had held my breath for a moment, for mere wanting to hold onto the moment.

I enter her and feel her wetness slide between my fingers. Her eyes close and I kiss her lips again. She moans into my ear and places her hand on mine. She tenses her grip upon my hand and pushes my fingers deeper into her. She wants me to know that she is ok, she wants me to know that she wants me. Brilliant embers fire from my heart and spread fiercely into my shoulders. Her body begins to move with mine, she breathes with me. I want to tell her as we embrace closer.

Morning comes and I can feel the light of the dawn swim across my face inviting my eyes to open to it. Squinting some I however can see clearly that Dee and I are still naked. She is partially lying on top of me with her head buried under my chin. My arms hold her close to me. I realize we have stayed in the same position since falling into one another after making love. Dee soon opens hers eyes as well.

“Shit!” I shoot up out of the bed. It has dawned on me that I might be fucking late to my new job.

“Burge, what’s wrong?”

“Shit, shit! I think I’m late to work!”

I quickly get dressed and begin to feel awkward. I know I have to say something. What I want to say, I just can’t. I just spill out something of a neutral topic.

“Hey, I’ll see you later today Dee. The number to the site is next to you.”

“Wait, I just wanted to tell you before you leave; that I love you Patricia.”giphy-facebook_s.jpg

No one has called me by that name since my father left. Dee finally speaks the words I have prayed to hear from her. A tear falls from her eye. I walk over to her, I lean over and gently kiss her on the cheek where the tear has fallen. She holds my hand as I smile at her. As I turn to walk away her hand slips from mine, leaving the room, I don’t look back.

To Be Continued……………….


Burgess and the Brood Vol 3 Chapter 1 (Wrapped Around Me)

5561a28b2276325b96e8e9890bc16277I’m gonna cut my fucking hand off with these hedge clippers. I need to focus but that is proving to be quite difficult. In about an hour I will be off and I’ll have to go home, not wanting to go home. There’s always option two, not go home, move and change my identity. As pleasant as that sounds for the moment, unfortunately not realistic.

This landscaping job has been pretty good. Its sustainable landscaping so even better. I’ve especially enjoyed becoming familiar with the indigenous flora and fauna.

“Hey stud. Decent job, sober, looking good.”

I’m actually surprised to see Aiyana even anywhere near me seeing how we left things, I left things.

“Hey. You’re looking spectacular yourself.” My confidence of looking her in the eyes has diminished some. She moves in closer gesturing for a hug. A knot in my stomach forms, gurgling starts in. I begin to wonder if this hug is going to be one of those quick pat ya on the back friend hugs or one of those I really missed you, long endearing hugs. She grabs me and throws her arms around my neck.

“I missed you. I missed you a lot.” As Aiyana whispers the words upon my neck my flesh tingles.

“I kinda missed you a little as well.” I speak in a half-assed sarcastic tone. Truth, only half joking. The other half of me concentrating on matters elsewhere. Aiyana kisses my neck and I slightly pull away from her. I don’t know if it is guilt that has me pull away from her sweet lips, or whatever the fuck.

“You ok?”

“Yeah Aiyana, yeah, I’m totally fine.” Still finding it difficult to look into her eyes I find myself concentrating on that fact, of not looking, so I stare. I’m sure the look on my face will begin to look strained and weird to her. Fuck! Ok, now look away. The people inside my head break the spell. I do as I’m told. Too late, I think she noticed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I get off in half an hour. Wanna grab some coffee?” While I feel uncomfortable at the moment I also feel a sense of calm. Aiyana has that effect on many people.

The familiar sounds of the patrons and the smell of fresh coffee relax me into a good place.

“So, what have you been up to?” Aiyana’s voice attempts at a witty banter of sorts. We both know there are some things to discuss. Well at least one thing to discuss and my least favorite of them all. God, I hope she doesn’t go there.

“So Burge, where are we at? Going at least?”

Yep, she went there. I fucking hate this. Why do we even have to be going anywhere? Why does there have to be this set point in time? Why a definition of what it is, a label? God damn, why can’t it just be sex? Women. Pat, you’re a fucking asshole.

“Aiyana, I was wondering really what you thought of stuff.” Ok, that’s a lie.

“Well Burge, that’s why I asked you. The way things are looking, I don’t know. I know I enjoy being with you. I guess I do hope for more.”

“I enjoy being with you as well. A lot of shit has just been happening.” Only half a lie this time. Only a half truth. At this point, fuck, I really don’t know.

“I know, I know. Do you wanna come over and maybe watch a movie?” I’m sure watching a movie is not what she wants to be doing.

“Yeah sure.” Fuck, not quite sure why I just said yes.

As I sit on the couch Aiyana walks off into the bedroom. Man, my posture totally sucks. As I adjust myself against the back of the couch Aiyana slowly walks out from the bedroom. In no way are the cut off shorts she has changed into an indication of her desires. Short enough they are, not much is left to the imagination. She is fucking sexy. Now I’m just getting angry. Not at anyone but myself am I angry. I don’t like myself right now and more self-inflicted bloodletting feels like the best decision to make. Where am I going? What do I want? What the fuck am I doing?

Aiyana walks towards me. Her intentions sing through her eyes. I stand up to leave, not sure what I am doing. Her lips are already on mine, she feels wonderful. I’m hurting, hating myself. What could possibly make me hate myself even more than taking Aiyana right here in the living room and ruining every possible chance I have with Dee forever?

At the closing of that thought I have already spun Aiyana around and walked her backward toward the door to the apartment. I want to fuck her against the door hard so I can hear the chain on the lock slap against the door and the door knob itself rattle. I spare no time in pulling her shirt off. She is wearing no bra and I find myself staring at her pink erect nipples. I take her nipple into my waiting mouth. My left hand pushes her hip into mine, my right gently grabs her breasts. In my eagerness I pull her shorts down and they fall to the floor like the limp unwanted cloth they are, Aiyana kicks them off to the side. For me, this is not about love, only lust. A physical manifestation of self-hate. Her body, the bullet in my suicidal game of Russian roulette. She wraps a leg around my waist.

“I need you inside of me.” She begs of me. I instantly put two fingers inside of her andlesbian-romance-bed-sex-relationships-gay-marriage she drips onto my hand.

“I need more of you.”

Her breath as aggressive as my thoughts, I lose myself upon her request and pick all of her up against the door. She wraps herself around me. Her arms around my neck, both her legs around my waist hold tightly. I put another finger deep inside of her as my waist thrusts my fingers deeper still. Her pussy invites all of me in and firmly grabs onto me. I feel her teeth bite into my shoulder as she moves up and down on me, my left hand holding on to her ass as she fucks my fingers harder, faster. The door rattles, the door knob and frame shake, the perfect accompaniment as she floods my fingers and hand.

The bedroom is dark, only the lights from the passing cars outside shed light upon the stillness inside. Aiyana is hard asleep beside me. I stare upward and into nothingness, my soul feeling as empty.

Is there a more suffocating feeling than living in a hell you’ve created all on your own?


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 2 (The Ghost)

dtjstjrstjsI, in no way, consider Aiyana to be anywhere close to “Coyote ugly” but I am more than prepared to chew my own arm off to keep from waking her. Last thing I need is the whole, “Where we going?” crap. It is inevitable but I will delay it as long as I can. I think I may just be able to roll her off my arm. Done. Carefully but quickly I don my apparel and exit the bedroom without even a word or a peck on the forehead. I’m doing that quite a bit lately. I did do this to myself. It is what I wanted.

“Aw, fuck!” I cover my mouth quickly hoping beyond all that is holy that I did not wake her. “Fucking end table.”

Ok, time to employ “Mission Impossible” stealth and jet the hell out of here. Slowly, faster, faster, breathe. I rest my back against the door outside of her apartment. I relish my triumph for a brief moment, the crowd cheers. I can hear the door knob rattle in my memory of last night. God, she is sexy. The walk home should be fun. This time of morning all of those that are awake will know exactly how my night went. Fuck it, what they think is really not my problem anyway. As I step outside onto the concrete steps my head begins to pound at the temples and the morning light stings my eyes. I can feel my eyes begin to water as I lower my head away from the sun.

“Hey dyke!”

I’m not even sure I just heard what I did and I definitely don’t want to find out. I didn’t see the two douche bags behind me during my spell of temporary blindness. Just keep walking Pat.

“Hey, fucking dyke! I know you fucking heard me bitch!”

Just keep walking Pat. I can feel my hands begin to sweat and can feel the thumping of my heart within my ears. One stands in front of me, one stands behind. I don’t even know if I am breathing. Everything has stopped. There is no noise. Everything stands still, suspended in a moment. The only solace, an outside world where the hands of a clock still tick along and a future survives.

“You gotta a light?”

“No, sorry man.” Noticing their cigarettes already lit, I know this may get bad. I step to the right, their bodies follow. I step to the left, their bodies follow. Everything seems to blur. They stand in darkness, shadows have become of them, their eyes even more black. I feel the other approach me from behind. Before I can even begin to turn around to face him, I can feel him against my back. His arms have pinned mine down to the side. Nothing escapes me, no breath. The other has pushed his hand against my mouth tight. Any air to escape is muffled.

I scream, I scream loud inside my mind. No, no, no, no, no! I am the only one who can hear me. My yells deafening inside. I can feel his calloused hands against my skin under my shirt. He touches the part of a femininity I’ve always bound against the feelings that waged a war inside. I no longer exist, I detach myself from the living.

His nails scrape against her thighs has he pulls her pants down to her ankles. In this macabre moment, fast thoughts but a slow motion, on the ground she finds herself.

One of the men holds her shoulders down, the other has thrown one of her shoes off to the side. Her pants crumpled around her, the man on top breathes a sinister stench upon her neck as he attempts to lay his mouth upon her. She fights, fights, fights. Panicked, the yells still will not come. Panicked, her eyes stare off into the distance, a place far from here. The man’s foul scent upon her skin, he grabs at the part of the woman she’s never really come to know.

Barely awake, time begins to take back power. She bleeds, her tears stain the concrete.

The ghost watches from above.


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 3 (The Rape Kit)

635707495881946127-Still0624-00004My eyelids pasty, half cracked, squint against the brightness numbing my skull. My chest feels tight and I am sore everywhere. I’ve just noticed the uncomfortable full sensation of my tightly clenched hands.

“Hey pumpkin, how ya feeling?”

My head is dizzy and I’m not even sure if I heard that or thought it. My eyes close again tightly. I am scared to open them. I almost wish to be dead. Right now, I can’t face anyone and it will be a long time before I can even look at the reflection in the mirror.

“Patricia I’m here. Hey, pumpkin.”

I can feel a warm and gentle stroking against my head. The hands are reassuring and the voice resonates with a sense of security. I have not heard or felt in a long time a security from which nothing could harm me and arms that held me in while the hideous realities of our world withered away.


My throat barely pushes the words out. My chest hurts, it hurts to breath.

“Hey, I’m here.” The voice whispers again.

It’s safe I think. I think I can open my eyes. I find some reserve strength and I open them. The blue of my eyes matches his. He looks as if he has been crying, but trying with all might to hold back. The stoic rock of a man he has always tried to portray when he is not behind closed doors.


My voice shaking, I begin to sob. The rock, standing there crumbles and hides its weary face into my shoulder. I can feel his tears against my neck. Today he is not a rock. He is a man, he is human. I need that now more than anything. Waking up I feared I did something wrong. I feared he would be telling me what I shouldn’t have done. Now I know he is glad that I am breathing, nothing else matters.

“Where’s mom? How did you know?” I can still barely utter a sound.

“Your mom is talking with the police. She called me.”

“Who found me?” My voice is giving up.

“You don’t need to worry about that right now pumpkin.”

He is standing up now and looking away from me so I won’t see him cry. I am able to witness one lone tear fall upon my bedsheet. At that moment a nurse walks in and introduces herself.

“Hi sweetie, I’m nurse Houston.”

“Hi.” Don’t know if she even heard me say that.

I am not so sure I like the niceties from her, the coddling of sorts. I feel weak and small enough. Vulnerability courses through my veins with every beat. The last thing I need to feel is smaller. I don’t tell her that though. Maybe right now for the first time in my life, I should let someone take care of me.

“Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave the room for a little bit.”

She does have a sweet voice. I think my father is almost relieved. There are plenty of doors in this hospital. He squeezes my hand and exists the room. Nurse Houston begins to explain to me what she needs to do. My body tightens and every muscles burns as she tells me she will need to do an internal examination. I begin to cry again. The place I ran to in my mind when it happened returns. I don’t like this place anymore. Something else, something else, anything. I wince in pain, I wince in fear and I wince in shame.

My mind finally lightens and an image appears slowly, starting from the outer corners of my eyes. I begin to see all the times my father showed up to one of my games or school events. He rarely missed one and he would stand off to the side watching me intently. I always worried that what if in his mind he was judging me that I wasn’t doing well enough? I never felt good enough. I felt that way until there was a school field day when I was in the fifth grade. I was never much of a short distance runner but I tried a 50 meter dash that day.

I came in third. There was only three of us. When they handed me that third place ribbon I began to judge myself, I began to cry. My father looked down at me and told me that he was proud of me. He told me most people would have given up when they thought they couldn’t win. He simply said, “You finished and never quit. You won.”

“Sweetie, I’m all done. I’ll let your parents know.”

Shadow-personAs she exits the room, the image begins to fade, reality increasingly unwelcome. I don’t remember much after that. I remember dreaming of the ghost. She will walk in my shadow, haunt my mind and I may never be able to reach her.

National Sexual Assault Online Hotline





 Burgess and the Brood Chapter 4 (That Person No Longer Exists)

Bdrown-drowning-girl-ocean-Favim_com-1775460ack home, now what the fuck? Sitting here on the couch staring off into a space that doesn’t even exist but I want to stay in. I am aware that the tv is on but the place I have escaped to dulls the sound into a hum. The humming feels as if it is surrounding my body. I invite it closer. It is secure. It has hugged itself around me in some invisible bubble.

The moment I got home I hurried to the bathroom and literally jumped into the shower. I nearly slipped and almost busted my damn ass. In all the macabre I imagined myself half in the tub and half out. My ass having hit hard upon the scratchy bath rug. I could feel a hint of a smirk form upon my face. It was barely even noticed, brief. It didn’t even fucking feel right to be smiling. Not that I wanted to sit up here in this hell but I began to feel like I didn’t even deserve to be smiling or feeling good for any reason. In some way I had created the entire chain of events that led me exactly to the point that I was at. It led me straight into the deepest hole with the blackest waters that quietly waited below. Drowning began to occupy all the corners of my mind. I didn’t think of the struggle, I thought of letting go. Letting go into a welcoming dark where my feet would never touch the ground.

As I sit here on the couch my mind is full of nothingness. There is no anger and no sadness, nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. I am nothing, aware of it and ok with it. As for my body, this shell, this miserable useless piece of crap, I feel everything. I am fully aware of what they did. They left me with a tattoo on my body and even within my thoughts. Everyone would be able to see it even after all the bruises healed up. They have marked me as damaged. I couldn’t even fight back, I’m nothing. In the shower I had hurt myself even more. I tried scrubbing every last inch of their dirty fingers off of me, away from me. My hair is wet and I smell like the body wash I used, but I’m not clean. I don’t ever think I will be clean enough. I can still smell their fucking nicotine stained fingers upon my neck.

Dee has been away for a few days hanging and spending the night over at Twats and her wife’s place. Oh God, I don’t want to tell her a fucking thing, I can’t tell her a fucking thing. I don’t want to tell anyone. Enough people already know. I know she will say something when she sees the bruises on my neck. Fucking Jesus his hands were so damn rough, so callused. Pat, back to nothing, find that place of nothing again. While my wilted heart wants to shatter from my chest my mind wants that hum again and that invisible place of comfort. I feel so guilty. I’m the biggest piece of shit. There is nothing worse than my own very existence in this world.

I won’t lie to her. I will have to tell her where I was. I can’t do this, I can’t do this body, I can’t do this life. Just as suicidal ideation begins to encompass the very edges of every part of me, Dee walks in the front door.

“Yo punk ass, what’s up?” She falls into the couch.

I can’t even bring myself to look at her.

“Hey, what’s up man?” She half giggles but I can sense some worry in her tone. She could always tell just from what my body was saying was how I felt.

I slowly lift my head up to her. My eyes meet hers and I am trying everything within my power, the very little I even have left, if any, not to cry. Her hazel eyes catch the bruises that are on my neck.

“What the hell Burge? Nice fucking hickeys ya got there!” She speaks with disgust upon her tongue.

She won’t believe me if I tell her. She’ll think I am an even bigger asshole for saying I was attacked to cover up. The moment I see her eyes turn red and tears start to appear in the corners of them, I immediately turn away in disgust of myself. The last thing I hear is the slam of the front door and I hope it is the last thing I ever feel.

National Sexual Assault Hotline


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 5 (Letting Go and Moving On)

couples_love_tumblr_kissing_hugging (40) (2)“Fuck, Fuck!”

Out of breath and barely awake, Dee has bolted upright from a deep sleep and probably her shittiest nightmare since her and Burgess broke up. Well, not broke up, ok like friends, but it—Dee halts those thoughts mid-sentence, she is so tired of going back there. The nightmares aren’t helping anything. It also doesn’t help that both her and Burgess walked all over this town in stud flair with destroy and conquer on their minds. It was them, all them. Every fucking part of this town still vibes with Burgess presence and a daily reminder of what’s not them anymore.

Dee feels a few beads of sweat roll down the side of her neck past her left ear. Instinctively not sure if it’s some damn spider or actual sweat she quickly swats at the side of her head slapping herself slightly.

“I’m up now.”

She’s not even sure what time it is. It’s still dark out but going back to sleep is not happening. After that ever relieving first thing when you wake up pee, she starts for the kitchen. A fresh pot of coffee and some deep analysis is in order. She can’t stop thinking about Burgess. Fuck you Burgess! She has screamed that inside her head so many times that she has probably killed a million brain cells. These damn thoughts and feelings are becoming a dangerous all-consuming issue of which as not only affected her sleep but even most of her days. She just started a job a couple of weeks ago, doesn’t pay much but it is a start and the last thing she needs is to fuck it up. It’s been six months and it’s still messing with her.

Dee sits at the stool in the kitchen and waits for the coffee to brew. She hears the sizzle and steam release. She takes that first deliberate and liberating sip. She mumbles quietly to herself.

“Maybe it’s time to stop overthinking this shit and just move on.”

The same moment across town Burgess is awakened suddenly as well.


Ok, that was pretty fucking weird. Be quiet Burge. Damn. I look over and Aiyana is lying here so peaceful but obviously having a dream as well. She’s twitching a bit and she does that when she’s dreaming a good dream. Well, hopefully she’s having some kind of fetish sex dream or something and not one that can only be defined as an acid flashback episode of Fraggle Rock. She’s been here for me. Well, Twat has as well but I really fear making her feel like she has to pick sides. Plus, Dee is crashing over at her place, or living, whatever the hell they call it. Besides Twat is still practically a newlywed with a new job. Man, she’s all grown up. Next they’ll be having kids and shit. Whoa, don’t go there Burgess.

Its spring they should be calling me for my landscaping job, letting us know when us not so importants can go back to work. Living off unemployment is not all that great. Can’t complain, at least it is something. Helped me buy that ring for Aiyana. When the season starts I’m gonna go all in and kick ass at that job. It’ll keep me busy and give me a chance to start over again. Get some stuff out of my mind. Keep me busy from any triggers. Sobriety is even more important now. Keep me focused on absolutely everything else that isn’t Dee. I hate the way things were left and that fear of running into her comes back every damn time I step outside of the house. Jesus I don’t think there is any recovering from this one. She still doesn’t know exactly what happened and I have asked Twat not to say anything. I am so fucking ashamed for so many reasons. Fuck I’m sure word may have gotten around though that me and Aiyana are fucking, well together. There’s not going to be any recovering for either Dee and I.

Maybe a bond between two people just isn’t that solid. We go blindly into thinking that nothing can tear us apart. No one, nothing, without ever accepting the fact that ultimately we are human first and ruled by ever destructive emotion. In the end everything destroys itself whether intentionally or not. I never could have even seen it. It’s hard not to get swept up in eyes that dance with your own. A heart that skips a beat when you touch her and a kiss that last for days afterward. I never fucking thought I would destroy us, destroy her and I never thought of letting go. You can’t let go something that’s a part of you.

I wash my hands and just watch the water for a moment slip from the palms and slide through my fingers. I try several times to hold that gentle puddle within them. No matter how straight and still I try to hold my palms, the water slides through. It splashes into the sink, subtle drops hit upon the counter. Every drop falls into the drain. I can see it pass from the pipes as if in some kind of escape and flowing into a barren nothingness. My love like the marathon of drops that have found a welcoming stranger in loneliness yet again has been given to another and I hope it never returns.

Burgess thinks back of a time about 4 years ago when Dee and her both decided to grow their hair out from the butch styles they always wore. They did that together, everything together. They had yet to have sex at that point or even kiss. They held hands in a field looking up as some pussy willows scattered about the sky. The blanket they created over the field was like lying within purity itself. It was only them amongst a sea of calm and forever. She’ll never forget what Dee said to her.

“Hey Dee?”


“Love me till I die?”

“There’s no love you till you die Burgess. The only option is to love you forever.”


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 6 (The Ghost Returns)

Shadow-person“Hey, Twat. There was something I left at your place a long time ago and I was hoping to get it back.”

I wasn’t even sure I wanted it back. Damn Incubus cd that Dee and I used to rock out to. Whether getting high or crying together, fucking cd. I really don’t want to go over there but something inside me wants a part of her even if I can’t have her. This shit has got to stop.

“Well Burge what is it? I could bring it over to you.”

“How bout we just meet over at the coffee shop? Haven’t been there in a while.”

“Aw, damn Burge, Dee started working there about a week ago.”

“Ok, you know, whatever!”

In all my anger I hang up the phone and don’t want to even hear Twats voice for awhile. God damn it! Everything has changed. I can’t do this to myself. I have to focus on recovery. All of it. I have to acknowledge what happened and work my way through it. I don’t want to do anything! God, I don’t want to end my life but I just want all of this to end. I don’t want to start cutting again. I need to find some other outlet. God, I’m so tired of fucking thinking.

Well I do have a counseling session today. I can get all this poison out in there. I started seeing a counselor about three weeks ago and I guess it’s helping some. I’d rather talk about what happened and other shit with her than anyone I know. I don’t feel judged with her. She has an easiness to her that in other circumstances she would make a great friend. Of course there is some ethical counseling bullshit thing they adhere to so that could never happen.

“Hey baby? How ya feeling?”

Aiyana is looking especially beautiful this morning. Her hair is all tasseled and I love when she wears my shirts and her bikini underwear to bed. She still has sleep in her eyes and yawns this cute little yawn of sorts. She rubs the sleep from her eyes which brightens them even more to the morning sun peering through the kitchen window. Almost like the hazel green hue has made their entrance in a grand production. Well, I hope the play never ends. I might feel a bit uncomfortable with her walking around in just her underwear but mom has been spending some time with her new “boyfriend.” I hope this one treats her right, but they never do. I’m not sure she’ll ever learn and I’ve learned myself that there is not a damn thing I can do to change her mind. I learned that last year when I called her then boyfriend a fuck stick moocher. She practically slapped the blond right out of my hair.

“I’m doing as good as can be right now Aiyana. How did you sleep?”

“As they say, like a baby. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Not right now. I’m still letting it all process. Maybe later.”

“Ok, baby. Take however long you need. I’ll be right here.”

Aiyana kisses me on the cheek and heads downstairs after grabbing a cup of coffee. I follow her only to get dressed and then I’m out the door. I have about an hour before my appointment. Maybe I could just walk past the old coffee shop. Hey Burge, you just need to find a new place. I’m not accustomed to listening to myself but on this, I am pretty sure I’m right.

“Hey Patricia you can come on in. Just have this one thing to input into the computer. Just didn’t want to keep you waiting out here. The magazines are outdated and suck and the chairs or not really all that comfortable.”

I let out a little bit of a chuckle and smirk. My counselor is pretty cool. Her name is Natalie and she speaks my language. She is also a recovering addict alcoholic. The more I come here, the more things are starting to get easier. I’m not ready to talk about some things but like I said, easier. She asks me to call her Natalie but the way I was raised kinda feels a little weird but I’m sure that will also come natural over time.

“It’s all good. The magazines do suck. But you do realize some of the books on your own shelves are dusty.”

Her turn to laugh.

“Yeah I guess you’re right. I’ve been meaning to do something about that. So how have things been since our last session?”

“Well this morning I called Twat, um, excuse me. I called “T”.

I turn a nice shade of crimson. I hope she doesn’t notice.

“How’d that go?”

“Not so great, I hung up the phone on her. I feel kinda horrible about that. Not really her fault about what’s going on. Not her fault at all.”

“Do you think your anger ties into what we have discussed with your friend Dee?”

“Well, of course it does. Lately everything has.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“You know, damn it, I just need to move on with the shit.”

“We can. Have you been having the nightmares like we discussed last week?”

“I don’t want to fucking kill myself, but if my damn mind could stop for even a minute. When I’m fucking sleeping and damn especially when I’m awake, then maybe I could handle more shit.”

“Patricia, but you really wouldn’t be handling anything.”

“That’s just it, I can’t handle anything right now.”

“Have you and Aiyana tried having sex again?”

“We have and I couldn’t, I couldn’t finish, I couldn’t have an orgasm, I faked it on her. Which I feel absolutely horrible about. I don’t want to tell her, but I think she is starting to wonder about stuff.”

“Do you think she may judge you on some level?

“Hey, do you think we can just be done for today? I’m not feeling too great.”

“Whatever you wish we can most definitely do that.”

I get up slowly from my chair and looked toward Natalie feeling guilty now about wanting to end the session early. Man, I’ve been feeling guilty a lot lately.

“Hey, um, do you think you could call me Burgess from now on? I really don’t like Patricia. My mom tends to use it when she is wasted out of her damn mind.”


I turn and leave. For whatever reason I feel as if Natalie wanted to hug me. Probably not so. Signals from everyone have been so screwed up. When I get home I just melt into the couch and grab for the remote. I’ve been into some classic comedy for the past couple of weeks. It’s been my distraction and I’m good with that. Laverne and Shirley it will be again. That show makes me feel safe. Aiyana walks into the room. She has just showered and several strands of wet hair stick to the back of her neck and subtly obscure her eyes for a bit. She is so beautiful.

“Um, Burge. I’m so sorry but you left your phone here and I thought it might be you calling to see if you lost it somewhere, so I answered it. I guess the local police were looking to speak with you. Is there anything you want to tell me? I don’t care what it is but I’ve been feeling something is wrong and I’m really worried about you. Burge I love you so much. My god would you please just tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Aiyana, I am so sorry I just can’t right now.”

I begin to cry and the look on Aiyana’s face is hurt and concern. She grabs for me and I instinctively pull away from her. I just want to fucking hide. I just literally want to find a cubby hole and scream. Scream till all the anger and the hurt can just fucking go away. I know it won’t last, but that minute of peace I might get. God I just want one fucking minute back of the person I was before it happened, before I was raped. God before they took from me the very thing I thought that was all mine, my fucking soul. The phone rings and I grab it before heading downstairs.


“Is this, Ms. Burgess?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Ma’am we have apprehended some suspects we believe to be the individuals who assaulted you. If you could – “

I hang up the phone. The ghost returns.


Burgess and the Brood Chapter 7 (On Their Own) 

OK Burge, you made it down here. Like the cop said, they won’t be able to see you. Like that matters if they know they are here on suspicion of raping me then they already know who I am. Shit, I should ask him why they are here and well really if they know why they are here. My mind is so fucked up. I would ask to myself what is wrong with me. I’ve realized though, do I really want to know the answer to that? So lately I will talk to myself without trying to consciously be aware of the depths of my subjects. That way I don’t analyze every goddamn thing. The good from it is the challenge. And god knows I love a challenge especially one that can make me forget everything. I would rather play this game of distraction than go back to the very bad choices that had gotten me here in the first place. You are victim blaming yourself! Ok, Ok, I know. See, a challenge.

“Ms. Burgess, are you ready?”

Don’t forget to ask.

“Um, they don’t know they are here for raping me, do they?”

“No, not at all. They think they’re here for something else.”

“Then, I guess I’m ready.”

“Ok, follow me please.”

Sir yes sir.

 I follow Sergeant Mann down a short hallway. We come to a door on the left and he escorts me in. No matter why I am here, I always have this worry that cops are just looking for something to bust me on and this is all just a ruse to arrest me on some bullshit charge. Even after I know I haven’t done anything. Sergeant Mann asks me to wait a moment. After a minute or two comes the time to maybe look those pieces of shit humans in the eyes. Jesus Christ even if they can’t see me I don’t know if I want to see them. I know I don’t want to see them. My god! How blue his eyes were. I begin to panic and even though Sergeant Mann is behind me he can tell because my breaths become heavy and my back shows the stress of them.

“Do you want some water, or another minute?”

You have got to do this. You have got to. What if these guys have done it before or what if you could stop them from doing it again? Ok, it might not even be them. It’s them. Remember, you like a good challenge.

 “I’m good, I’m good. Can we just get it done?”

He turns on the light in the other room.

 I can feel my heartbeat everywhere. Its pulsing through my eyes, my neck. I can even feel it in my fingertips and toes. I start from the left of the line and slowly look my way over. Those damn blue eyes. Those fucking blues eyes. I’m not ready­, I—

The last thing I remember before hitting this fucking cement, those eyes. I saw them I know I saw them. Ice, ice like damn steel. Blue like the bottoms of glaciers. Innocent eyes among strangers with edges from demons dancing on the inside looking for the vulnerable.

“You ok?”

Sergeant Mann is helping me up from the fall. Fall? Embarrassing fainting spell more like it. I instinctively grab my ass on the tail bone. It still hurts even after six years from breaking it during a full on burn out slip on pavement. Man, right on the tailbone. I laid curled up in the street for a few minutes after I fell because the break of my tail bone shot the hottest burn of knives up my spine. I was around friends and it took the wind out of me to not cry. And it literally did take the wind out of me. The Sergeant and the other two officers just look at me with head tilts and crunched brows as shows of worry. I guess they really could be worried but my few times getting handled by cops makes it real hard to trust them. That’s the least of my worries right now. Plus, I don’t want to work on trust issue crap right now either.

“I’m ok, thanks.”

“We need to ask you, do you think you saw them? We could wait again for a bit if you needed to take another look?”

God, what if something bad happens from me saying what needs to be said to these cops? I don’t know anything about these guys, and wish I knew not one fucking thing about them. Knowing them and not knowing them is bad all around. What’s it gonna be Burge?

 Across town Dee is busy wiping up a table of the asshole couple that had just left. Without leaving even a tip and even spilling shit everywhere. Creamer mixed with sugar beachy over most of the table. Trash fucking everywhere. Dee hates that she has to work the shitty job but like Burge they like their distractions. She feels shitty for one that douchebags constantly treat her like shit at this job. Even one of them one time calling her sugar tits after he told her to pick up the table.

Your fucking job princess.

 Dee sees douchebags everywhere why would this be different? As Dee turns to head back to the kitchen Twat walks in. Dee instinctively turns and sees that Twat does not look like their chipper self. Well, Twat is never chipper but Dee knows what her bitchy chipper is like and right now Twat was in agony. Dee quickly puts down the tray on the side counter and walks hastily over to where Twat is standing.

“Dude, you ok?”

Twats eyes begin to well with tears. They begin to pool on the bottom edges and Dee can practically see her reflection in them. A little bit of snot begins to peak out from Twats nose and their shoulders begin to heave like what happens right before the ugly crying sobs come racing out of you. Dee quickly wraps her arms around Twat.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m gonna be off in about 10 minutes if you can hold out that long?”

Twat simply nods, head lowered, inhales of snot and wiping of tears as they turn to go find a booth near the back.

“So, man, what’s up?”

Dee can see that Twat is fighting back shit.

“You can tell me man. You can also cry if you need to. Sometimes we need to cry.”

“Well, Debs leaving me.”

“What the hell? Really? I mean, damn. Um, what happened?”

“Well— “

“Did she fucking cheat on you?”

“Why would you think that? What because she is bi?”

“No, no. Twat, never. I asked because that is what would get me so hard like something has clearly got you.”

“It’s not her man. It’s me. I’m the one who fucked up. Like I fucking always do.”

“Did you cheat on her?”

Twats answer comes very slow. Dee already knows the answer.

“Yeah, I fucking did.”

“My god, why?”

“We got into some shitty fight. She was upset about all of this bullshit that’s going on in the world. She went on this whole granola kumbaya bit and I kind of like laughed at her and it looked like I blew her off, blew her feelings off. That’s not at all what I was doing. I think she just wanted to be all pissy for no reason. So, I took off and got loaded at Jeffrey’s and well, that professor ex of mine was there.”

“One, Twat she’s not a damn ex, she is a fuck buddy. Two, why would you just be an ass like that? From the few things, you’ve told me about Deb she sounds very passionate with that stuff. And she also sounded really cool until I guess you fucked that up.”

“Fuck you Dee! She is just at fault with this. It takes two— “

“No! You don’t get to use that bullshit cop out of its about two. Really? You just sat here and told me you cheated on her and you explained your lame ass excuse. You’re the one fucking crying cause really you know you’re the one who screwed up but then you’re gonna still blame her? I don’t blame her if she dumps you!”

“Fuck you Dee!”

Dee watches Twat storm out even swinging the door open so hard the shop shudders slightly. Dee thinks what the hell must have happened to them? Why the hell did I blow up at Twat like that? Yeah, I would have told her either way she fucked something good up but I wouldn’t have said it like that. I was so angry.

Lately Dee has been angry about everything. Dee going through what she is, Twat having to deal with their own shit, Burge, well, whatever with Burge. Dee missed Burgess more than anything. Losing her would sting for quite some time, maybe even forever. A thick wound that opens and bleeds from time to time. That’s how every day felt to Dee. She hates that the Brood has broken up.

We’ve broken up. We are really all on our own.