It’s a tee. It’s a dress. It’s the new Graphic T-shirt Dress.

Ray

Ray used pliers to remove fingernails.

He looked like he might pass out.

Aww now now, don’t start sookin’ ya shoulda thought about this better a long time ago.

The man knelt in the gravelly dirt and pleaded with Ray not to do the right hand.

Ray laughed.

The man dripped blood into the earth.

Ya wanna keep these?

Heavy eyes looked down. Five fingernails with traces of flesh were scattered.

He thought about keeping them.

They’ll grow back right?

Ray held the set of blue handled pliers poised at the thumb tip. He didn’t fall prey to the begging-forgive –me-I-didn’t-do-it-I-swear-I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about-please-don’t-hurt-me. Stop.

Maybe I could take your eyeball out instead?

A salted tear full of fear and answers raced its way down a plump middle aged cheek, against that of a bead of snide sweat which had escaped from his brow.

I’ll talk.

Where’s my money?

The man looked at his right hand and counted the loss of his life against the financial struggle.

There was no money.

He dug his steel cap boot into the dirt.

I suppose we should dig you a hole then.

Ray kicked the man in the head.

Blood spurted from his mouth and he made that noise that they all make. That pissy little boy noise.

You gotta learn who ya fuckin with.

He lay on the ground, dirt lingering at the sides of his mouth.

His eyes stung and his head felt broken.

His spirit left him years ago.

I am a walking dead man.

Fuck you.

Ray kicked him again.

Well then, what we gonna do about this? Best we dig that hole. How about that? Would ya like to live in the ground? Wanna die in a dark hole?

The man lay motionless on the ground, his head lying sideways in the dirt. He dared to lick at the earth and he tasted his future. He tasted his death.

They’d be better off without me.

Ray rounded his own black boot into him once more.

Dumb shit.

Taking the shovel from the boot of the car, he walked further into the densely tree populated country side.

Fucking wastin’ my time. Got better things to do then dig holes for pricks who should never been born. Fuckin scum waste of space.

He dug and he cursed.

The man lay on the ground, half gone already.

Just take me.

I don’t care.

Ray dragged him across the paddock and toward the hole.

Six feet down.

Nobody will find ya out here.

He rolled the man into the hole.

Thud.

Whilst shoveling the dirt and the lesson and the ending of this life, Ray did something he didn’t normally do. He looked into the eyes of the man.

He saw something different. It wasn’t fear and it wasn’t hatred.

Ray saw himself.

The man didn’t care.

He lay there, half covered in earth and gravel and few chances.

Ray was no pussy when it came to doing what needed to be done. He’d dug plenty of holes in the past. And filled them.

I tell ya what fucker. You have a rest here. Today might be your lucky day. If ya can getcha self outta here, then come and see me when ya can and we’ll talk again.

Saved.

The man wasn’t sure he wanted to be saved. The worst was still waiting.

Just kill me.

Shut up ya dumb fuck. You’ll probably die out here anyway.

Ray turned to walk back to the car but stopped.

He picked up the shovel and threw it into the hole with the man.

Keep diggin if ya want.

He left that man out there in the middle of nowhere that day. He never saw him again and he never went back to check if he died.

Some things are best left alone.

© ryan

Ray

PJ Ryan

Melbourne, Australia

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Artist's Description

Sadly, I haven’t had time to write lately and i miss it !! This is a quick 5 minute free write. Ray is a character within my novel and i wanted to introduce him to you.

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