"Are you afraid to die?" I asked. He stared off into space as if he were thinking of something. He slouched forward and released the nasty smelling smoke.
"No. Why should I be?"
I watched him play with the lighter. He then looked over at me. I shrugged. Before I could say something, he asked me the same question.
"Yeah. I am." I responded.
"Yeah? Why is that?"
"Because I want to die of natural causes... instead, I might die from being held at gunpoint just because Jacob is having a bad day or something."
"We're not murderers if that's what you think. Murder is not fun, we don't do it for fun, we don't do it cause', 'we feel like it'."
"Well you say it's a punishment, and-"
"That's correct."
"And.. what do they do that pisses you off so much that you gotta kill em? That's just not right. You don't feel bad about that, Roc?"
"No further questions,"
"Because you're guilty of being a murderer and a kidnapper." I mumbled.
"You know what? You're actually here longer than you should've been. You're not gonna be here much longer and I think you getting a little too comfortable addressing people the way you do. I'm not Jake, and I demand respect. Whether you're his or not, you not gonna continue to disrespect me."
I scooted away from him and brought my knees up to my chest. Silence grew thick.
"Jake said no smoking."
"Well, Jake ain't here."
---
Short parts. blah.
