end of drug lord business zombie night terror

But before he could promise he would never do it again, the pain had made the world go black.Īfter he’d finished eating and set his dishes aside to be sterilized, Tyson returned-hugging the wall like a good boy-to the living room.

Maybe one day when you have children of your own, you’ll understand how much I love you, she’d told him. When she was through with him, he’d never done it again. But somehow she knew, the way she knew lots of things. Stuffed them right to the bottom so she wouldn’t know what he had done. The taste of all three was so awful that he had once thrown them into the trash. Hugging the wall, Tyson slowly made his way to the fridge where his breakfast waited, covered three times over with Saran Wrap: a piece of boiled ham, cold bread, and a glass of grapefruit juice. He had a vague idea that it had something to do with the germs Mommy was always talking about. There were rules about where you could and couldn’t walk in the house, and the middle of the living room was a big no-no. The boy was almost halfway to the kitchen when he stopped and skittered to the wall, pressing his back against the cold wood paneling. Tyson’s father had also gone to work, but even when he was home he was something of a ghost, floating from room to room, like Casper. She’d taken him by the shoulders and told him that most important of all, the disease eating away at Mr. Tanner, she’d told him, had something called cancer. His mother had prepared it before leaving to take care of Mr. His usual breakfast was waiting for him in the fridge. Tyson shifted and the plastic covered couch let out a groan, one that sounded an awful lot like the groan in his tummy.

He’d seen this episode three times already. He was going to turn the pudgy hunter’s nice dreams into awful ugly dreams filled with monsters with claws and long pointed teeth. Bugs saw the cloud and crawled into it with a giant can of paint in his hand. Elmer had made the silly mistake of taking a nap in the woods and a big billowing dream cloud was floating serenely above his head. Smart enough to know the show he was watching was called Looney Tunes and perhaps even smarter still because he knew that Bugs Bunny was about to get the better of that dim-witted Elmer Fudd again. Five-year-old Tyson Barrett sat on a plastic covered couch, watching a plastic covered TV, in a plastic covered house.

End of drug lord business zombie night terror