To Whom It May Concern:, M.J. Garrett [phonics readers .TXT] 📗

glances at the door to see his nemesis walking out. God, in his fury and outrage, flips the table. Standing there with his fists squeezed tight and shoulders moving up and down, his chest starts bringing in more air to calm his anger. Looking around the room, it suddenly burst into flames. The fire, burning everything and everyone in the room, makes a path for our Savior as he furiously walks toward the door. As he reaches the door, he slowly turns around to view the room and soak up the fury, standing there across the room, he sees the little girl dressed in a pink unicorn nightgown. She looks at him and smiles.

*

The church gathered in the huge sanctuary. Everyone from the community is there, either out of shock or just to save some sort of face among their friends...or lack thereof. The two shiny black oak caskets sitting side by side, closed to avoid the horrific site of such self-mutilation. The young son of the two faceless parents is nowhere to be seen. How could he face the humiliation? How could he show his pretty little face in the same room where his naked finger-filled ass has become such a topic for everyone to talk about? One young boy has now become the face of the most horrific stories better left untold. He has become the main character in the secrets that no one will ever tell. Everyone has secrets. No one has secrets.

Looking at himself in the mirror, the young boy straightened his pink tie and brushed the lint off of his black suit. Smiling and tilting his head to the side, he turns around and heads toward the massive sanctuary where his parents lay side by side. The porn addicted preacher stood up front, holding his bible against his chest with both hands, speaking of the great life that the two faceless patrons shared; he glances up and sees the boy in the black suit making his way to the front. After all, not only did his parents die because of him, but so did Mrs. Galloway...and he was almost certain there would be more. It's not like anyone could stop him.


CHAPTER 30

“It wasn't the typical funeral,” Joseph Banks thought to himself as he packed his belongings from his work desk into a box. If it was any less awkward to be in this town, he probably would have actually packed a little slower and a bit more meticulously. I guess the scene created by the little boy wearing his stupid pink tie made it an easier decision for the company to fire him. Three short weeks ago, he was running up and down the streets feeding ground breaking news to the public. Now, he's packing up everything that he considered his into a little black cardboard box, hoping to outrun the police that he was sure on the way to find him.

He figured that at 2 a.m. In the morning would be a perfect time to get in and out of the office without creating any scene and avoiding any further embarrassment. He walked around the office with his hands on his hips and his tie pulled away from his unbuttoned collar. Looking at all the empty desks shoved into the tight cubicles, he looked at the framed photos that portrayed these happy lives that no one ever seemed to really remember. He walked over to the stereo that sat next to the fax machine and blew the dust off the 4 year old jukebox that has never once filled the air of the news office.

Joseph pushed the power button and to his dismay...nothing. He turned the stereo around and looked for the plug. Joseph bent down to plug the stereo into the wall socket when he noticed a little note that looked like it was folded by a 5th grader ready to pass to his girlfriend. He pushed the plug into the wall and then slid the note into his pocket as he pushed the power button. Hearing nothing but static, he turned the dial until it cleared up the air waves with some heavy guitar riffs and drum lines. Bobbing his head to the music, he stepped away from the radio and fax machine, and then ripped into an air guitar solo that Jimmy Hendrix would be proud of. Rocking and rolling his way around the office, he jumped on top of a desk and belted out the lyrics to the song blaring it's death metal sounds throughout the office.

He jumps off the table and lands on his knees as he dug into his air guitar that he swore was making his fingers bleed. Yelling into his air microphone, he belts out the lyrics as he pulled his tie off and throws it to the imaginary chic that graced his feet with her bra and room number. Settling into his freedom, he skips around the office and makes his way into Calvin's office. Jumping into the big leather chair and spinning around in circles, still yelling the words to the familiar song, his foot kicks over the trash can as the contents pour out onto the floor.

What is this? It looks like a little note. He bends over and picks the note up. Unfolding the little note that was also looked like it was folded by a 5th grader; he leans back in the chair and puts his feet up on the desk.

To whom it may concern:
If ever a time to not read a note...this would be it.

Calvin,
I want to thank you for playing with me. It has been a lot of fun and I hope that we can continue our relationship. I know that it has been very difficult for you to share me with someone else, but for now, that's all I can do. I know that in 3 months, Joseph will know that the baby isn't his and I don't know how he will respond.

Joseph's blood began to boil as he placed his feet back on the ground and slumped over in the big leather chair, resting his trembling arms on his knees as his head dipped toward the floor. His heart pounding out of his chest, he begins to tear up in anger and disgust. He continues to read....

It has been very difficult with his new found fame and I still haven't told him that I'm leaving him after the baby is born. In 6 months, we will be together and life will be blissful. I promise!

Love you,
Cathy

Furious and betrayed, he pops to his feet and reaches into his pocket to retrieve the note found by the fax machine. Scrambling to open it up, he quickly presses the note on the table to smooth it out with his hand.

Cathy,
I saw that little piece of shit camera crew guy waiting for you outside the break room! You devious little bitch!! If you think that I'm going to claim that spawn inside your fucking gut, you're sadly mistaken. Do me a favor and go fuck yourself!!

Fuck off,
Calvin

Devastated and confused, Joseph's teary eyes begin to swell with anger as he wadded the notes up and marched out of the office. He pictured his wife's lips wrapped around Calvin's small dick and he pictured Calvin smearing his seed into her face like an exfoliation treatment. Grabbing his black cardboard box of belongings, he marched out to his car and drove off leaving the sound of the radio blaring pointless commercials in the office.

With the notes still in his hand, he screeches to a halt in his driveway. Slamming the door shut and jogging his way to the front door, he frantically shuffles and searches for the house key. As he pushes the door open, there they stood, waiting for him. Two dark figures dressed in all black, stood silently in the living room shadows.

Dressed in her leather and stilettos, leaning against the wall and filling the room with the smell of menthol, she crosses her arms and looks at him as he pauses in shock and fear. Nate, as fast as a blink, places the barrel of a small 9mm pistol under the chin of Joseph and pulls the trigger, spraying the contents of Joseph's head against the wall and out of the front door, catching parts of the screen door and porch light. Startled by the noise, Joseph's faithless wife comes running around the corner of the room. Nate, without thinking puts a small bullet hole in her forehead as she falls to the floor with a trickle of blood slowly running from the newly placed hole and puddles up into her open eye.

Joseph, laying there with 2 little notes crumpled in his lifeless hand and the top of his head graffiti'd on the wall and ceiling, slowly closes his eyes. Nate walks up to his lifeless body and stares into the blank face of this prophet. With the back of Nate's hand burning from the strategic ink, he takes the pistol that he found in Joseph's nightstand and places it into Joseph's hand. Murder suicide; with little notes giving him the courage and motivation to do the unthinkable.

Carla's heels slowly clicking on the marble tile, walks over to Nate and places her hand on his shoulder as he pauses for a moment while squatted over this prophet's body. “Now...is it my turn?” she asked him as he turns to look at her with his eyes as black as the shadows they stood in.


CHAPTER 31

In retrospect, I guess it could have been worse. I guess that kid dressed in all black and a pink tie could have not said anything. Standing in front of his parent's caskets, he cried into the microphone. He stood there in front of everyone, admitting all the bad things that he did to push his parents to suicide. He fell to his knees, snotted, and wept. The community in frenzy! Men who have used this boy to fulfill curiosity and deviant sexual fantasies stood up and stormed out of the funeral.

Joseph Banks had spent a great deal of money and trust fulfilling his fantasies. There this boy stood, this skinny 14 year old orphaned sadistic child, with his eyes pouring out tears, pointing at Joseph. Joseph, running out of the back doors like more than his career was on the line, left his pregnant wife sitting there with her mouth wide open from the shocking accusations. Who would've thought that dropping so many quarters in the window machine and secret moments in the makeup room would cause such a knee jerk reaction?

The preacher and his secrets being revealed as the boy turned and pointed at him. The boy told of the times that he was choked by rubber balls and rubber covered penis while being strapped to a makeshift cross in the preacher's basement.

Pointing at the coach, whose dead wife was buried just yesterday, the boy told of how he was bent over his desk as the coach shoved his fingers and rod in the boy’s ass...and had pictures to prove it. The whole town and