The Perfect Sinner (cake boyxboy)

(X) Into The Wild

"Go on boy, empty your pockets," he whispered and threw an eye over his shoulder. "Go on be quick about it, then!"

Maybe just the irony of being in a situation as such was what made him giggle. He honestly hadn't done it intentionally, but irony always made him so queer. Behold a fan of literature.

"I'll gut you, boy!" The icey tip pressed against his rib cage.

"I'm sorry," Calum chuckled, "I'm not doing it on purpose. It's just... woah I'm being jumped." And usually Calum carried amounts of money he didn't need, but today, he barely remembered to put shoes on. All he brought with his was a book which expressed the views of one of the greats: Thoreau. "But I really can't help you."

"EMPTY 'EM POCKETS THERE!"

And he did. He gently placed down his novel and Calum reached in and pulled out his socks. All that came of it was a gum wrappers and lighters. He felt a little brazen and still smiled when he couldn't be of help.

"Okay, let me have 'em clothes, then. Let's go, strip pretty," he spoke in the wretched accent of alcohol and piss.

"I have a better idea!" He picked up his novel, and did it in such a way as if ready to project a sermon. He opened up to page 12 of walden and smiled at the sight of a tiny white packet closed at the zip. He stretched out his legs and fished it out, showing it to his stranger friend. "I got some left over party favours?" He grinned.

There was something strange in those eyes of electric despair. They showed an indifference that Calum was used to getting. It was almost like confusion, and he, in all his shagginess, was grander than Calum could ever be. Maybe it's because of his location he did care, and Calum reeked of numbness. Something dawned on the stranger, and his aggravated guard dropped and became amiable. He took the little ziplock baggie and dug his fingers forth into the action. He inhaled it off his nail and vacuumed the space. "Cheers," he said as he passed Calum the drug baggie back. Calum only nodded and looked back into the far horizon; he wanted to be there in that moment. The stranger then offered him a cigarette and Calum inhaled the fumes.

Numbness couldn't even be the world to identify the feeling. At times he prayed to his maker for numbness, and rightly got his piece. If anything, he felt too much. Everything was on overdrive, he was identifying with feelings he didn't wanna understand, the pain was anything but numb, and the highs were out of this world. Something had changed.

He didn't realize when it happened. He didn't even see it, really. All he remembered was staring back at the stranger sat next to him. He seemed nice enough. Sure, he tried to rob him but we're all just trying to make a living. At least those who need one, those who don't have the luxury to have a lack of simplicity. And despite friction, Calum felt like he could trust in this man. He felt like spilling his secrets to him and asking about his affairs--to resonate with him. Before Calum knew it, he'd taken advantage of this strange trust and had the delinquent on his back, scared for his life. Calum had tackled the man and jumped him, summoning the actions of a tiger.

There was a realization of power when Calum was the one holding the dagger. Not before the rib, but slicing particles above his neck. There was a rush in holding all the cards. Calum enjoyed the rush so much so that he muted the pleading cries of the victim-turned-predator. When things as such happen, realization always sets in. When it wasn't enough, Cal gave up and dropped him against the wooden grounds. He jumped back into stability and threw the knife over the water, which quickly submerged into the bottom, cutting though tides in the place of organs.