Page 110 of Haunt Me

A lot of money

And they loved that

That good man with a lot of money

So they asked no questions—didn’t wonder why he bought

Girly things at the store or why there was always a light

At the upstairs window. Why would they care, anyway?

I mean, they were good people, but

I guess they weren’t that good.

I guess they weren’t good people after all

If all they cared about was taking his money and asking no questions

And he wasn’t a good man either,

Of course, so all in all, maybe that’s why he had so many friends

In the community, so many people to do his bidding, to cover his tracks

To keep silent, to agree with his beliefs about what’s allowed

And what’s not. He wasn’t a good man at all, and now I think

All those good people who took his money might have been the same as he.

There will be days when I can’t stop

The images from rushing into my head

Images of that gun, of his face—

There are going to be days when

I can’t get out of bed.

Will you be there on those days? You, good people?

One person can make the difference, yet not one of you

Ever asked the right questions. Not one of you

Ever cared about anything else

But your ‘rules’ and his money.

And he had a lot of both.

You people.

twenty-seven

I wake up to the phrase‘the musical scream that was heard around the world’sweeping through every Issy Woo social media account and news outlet. I have no access to them on my phone—thankfully—but Skye sends me a few screenshots, with the note that ‘these are only the tip of the tip of the iceberg, holy smokes, Zay.’

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