Page 105 of Crybaby

“That’s just about enough!” Granny bellows from behind me, clapping her hands in authority.

“Hey! Harold’s waiting in the car for you!” I say, coaxing her over to the truck and then shoving her in like Hansel and Gretel did to that bone-collecting bitch when they pushed her in the oven.

I jam the door shut and lock her in from the outside, and figure she can stay there until we take her to the bus stop in Cartagena, Colombia.

But now, we must get Sleeping Beauty out of that bed and hide the body.

Bury it. And fast.

We drag Carson inside, handcuffs reinstated, which Rev cleverly secured during the tussle. He puts up a fight, and I endure a few kicks and headbutts to the face along the way. I receive it with relish, however, as I just want to return the favor with every ounce of pain I’m feeling.

I know there are important matters to attend to with Buckets’s body still in that bed, but I have some serious business to address with Carson. Rev knows it, and I’ll be damned if he’s going to stop me.

We throw Carson onto the living room floor, where then Rev grabs an old phone off the wall—circa ’80s edition—and whacks him in the head with it. He then winds the curly cable tightly around his ankles.

He’s one pissed-off piece of work.

“Go get Buckets,” I say to Rev, never taking my eyes off Carson’s squirming body.

Rev looks at me for a moment because he knows what I want. He eventually concedes, and I watch him disappear up the stairs.

The moment he’s gone, I smile.

“You piece of shit.” I’m shaking as my body responds to the reason I feel so much internal anguish.

He’s right there, lying before me on the floor—the reason I can’t find the heart in my chest anymore.

“This is bullshit, Darcie! I tried to help you. I tried to take you home, and now my best friend is dead. What the fuck?”

“Oh, boo-hoo, Carson,” I quip, sitting on the floor next to him.

“Why? Why did you do this to me?” I question, gently brushing a lock of hair from his brow.

He’s confused as I’ve gone from wanting to rip out his spleen to tending to him, but this is just another way to get into his head—just as he’s gotten into mine.

“Do what? You’re fucking insane!”

Lying piece of shit that he is, he’s still trying to stick to a story that even a child would see through.

Coming to a stand, I peer down at him. “They took my body and raped me, over and over again. You told them to.Youdid. Which makes you the worst of them all,” I say and kick him with everything I’ve got in the mouth.

He bleeds through the cracks in his teeth.

“Fuck you, princess,” he snarls, spitting blood over me.

This is what I want, for him to show his true colors so I can smash that pretty face into ground beef.

“Oh no, darling, fuckyou.” I kick him again in the mouth, but this time, a tooth comes free, and he gags on it before vomiting it out on the floor.

It rolls along the flooring gracefully, and I smile. Carson looks at it in horror.

“It’s just a tooth,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Grow some balls. Buckets lost an arm. This is a gentle walk in the park.” I pick up the tooth and examine it closely before throwing it across the room.

“Buckets is dead!” he screams, gurgling on the blood collecting in his throat.

“Yes, I know. He’s dead in his bed,” I singsong, suddenly laughing at my little rhyme.

I hear loud banging and look up to see Rev dragging a very large, very dead body down the stairs, banging the head on each step.

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