Lab Rat part 11

Posted: January 22, 2011 in Fiction, Test Subject

Cleaning mostly consists of filling trash bags with empty take out containers and ruined clothing. I strip my bed down to the foam mattress. The sheets are absolutely saturated with my blood. Even though I’m intact, it’s unnerving to think that anyone else would have been shot to death. I discover a flaw in my laundry sorting scheme: there is blood spatter on all of my assorted piles. I may have to invest in more than a couple new pairs of pants. I start to stuff the bulletproof vest into a bag, then reconsider. I dump it in the bathtub. I’ll clean it up when I get home.

I drag two bags of trash up the stairs. As I throw them into the dumpster, I contemplate. I know I’m supposed to do errands, but I do still have four full chambers in my bracelet. I decide I’ll start with food because I recently recovered from being shot to death, as well as fueling an amazingly hot fire using only my metabolism and I’d rather be ready for action. Just in case. I pull the list out of my back pocket and head for the grocery store. I should have made a list of my own. I forgot to ask Ally how she knew I was going to be trustworthy with the powers she keeps giving me, among other things.

As I head down the street, I tilt my head up to catch the sun. I have to close my eyes because of how bright the sun is. Huh. I’m not a thief, but I probably could have liberated a pretty nice pair of shades from the guys last night. For that matter, I could have gotten a new phone. Oh shit. No one doesn’t have a phone these days, and I left those guys with theirs. Shit. They probably had guys on the way to get them out as soon as they woke up.

I stop for a second. Is this something I need to tell Ally about? I decide it isn’t really a problem yet. I already promised to spend extra time hanging out around the corner store. The worst case scenario would be that they are hanging out waiting for me to come around again. I can deal with that, and as it turns out, I have a killer health plan. I start walking again. No matter what, making sure I’m in fighting shape comes first.

I blaze through my shopping trip. I’m feeling more focused than usual. It must be the threat from this little protection racket I’ve stirred trouble with. I’ve seen a lot of movies, and I’ve never seen one that didn’t have consequences for not paying up. I watch the grocery bagger gather my food, and curse my lack of foresight again. Why didn’t I bring a backpack?

This part was rough to write. There’s not really much in the way of interesting development to be found, but I still had to tell you this stuff so that later on Asher can have a phone and be well-fed. It also didn’t help that my mind is starting to play tricks on me. I need to get some time in the sun. I spend too much time indoors, and the winter is a bad time for me in the first place. I’m having a hard time fighting off all those self-destructive and negative thoughts that have a way of surfacing in my unguarded moments.

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