Crippling Decisions

I stood across the street from the broken down house, rife with decrpitude. It didn’t look like the house of a rapist, but I guess no house looks like it would belong to a rapist. I flexed my fists. Rapist. Going to jail would be a small price to pay to teach this asshole a lesson by way of southern justice. I wasn’t in particularly good shape but I was big. Large and in charge since the sixth grade, I had to learned to move slowly, carefully, lest I hurt somebody on accident. Today was the first time I’d planned on seriously hurting somebody.

Before I knew it, I stood at the front door and rapped smartly against the door. Tense and full of energy, my body was keyed up, ready to fight. The door opened and a gangly teenager answered the door. He looked like he had just woken up, hair sticking out in all directions, eyes bleary and much smaller than I expected. In a normal situation I’d be a bully for even thinking about hitting him, but this was not a normal situation.

“You Billy?” I barked.

He blinked.

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