Let’s just say, it’s nothing that I’m proud of, if anything I would rather not talk about it but… I just feel that it would be best to write about it.
I was paid to do something, immoral at one point in my life, and I just thought of it as a game but now, I guess, I realized how messed up it was.
Living in an urban home makes for things to seem more dull, at least for some one like me. And therefore something like this, seemed very, um, thrilling. Just think of it as a more extreme game of ding ding ditch.
The game came like this, by the way, I should point out this was a time where caller ID was still new to people… Especially the elderly. That’s right, an elderly but that’s not where it ends, or starts.
See there was a, give and take system to this for us, I received money and they (my clients) got something more out of it. So let’s continue:
I was bored out of my mind one day, and decided to look for trouble, small town but everyone talks about everyone’s business, so I knew exactly where to go. This place isn’t a bar, or someone’s home. In fact it’s more of an open field, for anyone and any type to go to, the reason it’s a no trespassing zone was because one person out a hundred got sent to the hospital, big whop everyone gets hurt here. So with police monitoring everything, things were becoming tamed around here, so like I said boring.
When some one pushed me to the side, “you touch me again, and you’ll be the next person to go to the hospital.” I muttered loud enough for him to hear.
“S-sorry, I just need… Someone t-to do a job for me.” I almost turned around, “s-stop, if you don’t want to be paid then… Go ahead, t-turn around.”
“Look, I’m selling, so get the f**k away from me.” I warned him again.
“N-not, t-that.” He continued. “I-I just need a yes or a no.” He proclaimed.
“How much? And it better not be anything sexual cause I swear…”
“I-it’s not.” He clarified. “A… Thousand.”
“… I’m not killing anyone?” I asked just to make sure, not that many people came for that kind of thing but I just wanted to get that out of the way.
“No.” He paused, “if anything, harassment.”
“…What kind?” I wanted to know.
“Small things, mostly pranks. Look, I can take my business elsewhere where, do you agree?”
“Fine, I can deal with that.” I answered, I really did not think about it much, it was just a simple job.
Everyday I would call the old woman, then hang up, simple enough, for three times a day at different times. But, I wasn’t the only one, and it escalated as well as the cash flow. Knocking at different types at night, scratching windows or throwing small objects. Some times walking across in plain sight where she could see, simple right? Of course if those things were every day I would have quit then, but it wasn’t and I never saw her do anything about it either.
It stop for some time, but then, the guy came again, “hey, man. What do you have against her anyway?” I finally asked.
“She, was my care taker as a child, abused the hell out of me and now I want to make her pay.” And yet as I heard his story, I never believed him. It seemed, awkward the way he said it, rehearse almost.
This time I got friends to help me out, it became more radical after that, nothing physical just pure ‘f’ up kind of stuff. I remember someone put a fire cracker in her mail box. Another smeared some animal blood on her carpet fr her living room to her bedroom.
After a while we stopped, the income had stopped anyway and it had gotten boring then. We continued our life’s like nothing had happened, heck we didn’t even know her face, or anything about her, just her address and what some guy told us.
We didn’t know he was just after her property, but even if we know now. It doesn’t stop what we did to her, or the fact that we enjoyed it.