Disrespectfully Yours by Raynesha Pittman

Author:Raynesha Pittman [Pittman, Raynesha]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Urban, United States, African American, Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Women's Fiction
Amazon: B0141A8R68
Publisher: Conglomerate Ink
Published: 2015-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

Unlocking her wheelchair, Clara rolled herself to the restroom. She was supposed to be under hospice care or at the very least have a live in nurse, but she refused them both. If she had pain and suffering, she accepted it as a part of her punishment. Her feeble sixty-year-old hands barely housed the strength to turn the wheel a full turn but she made it to her destination without help. She was now in diapers and didn’t use the toilet but that wasn’t her reason for entering the restroom, the mirror was.

She looked into the mirror and didn’t recognize her own reflection. She had turned into a raisin perched on a wheelchair with two large oxygen tanks supplying air to her lungs through her neck.

“I’m a fucking neck breather,” she said aloud thanks to placing the handheld device under her jawbone.

She tried hard to see the pretty pie faced girl with dimples that used to look back at her when she looked in the mirror. It had been years since she’d seen that face as it erased with each puff of the cigarette. Now it was memory mist due to the morphine that kept her pain at bay and all she saw looking back at her was a blur.

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you Mrs. Hurley?” a manly looking woman dressed in dark grey with a hoodie over her head asked.

“Why, who in the fuck wants to know?” she said looking the twenty something year old up and down. It was hot as hell outside yet she was dressed in a sweat suit with gloves on. Clara was sure that the young bitch was housed upstairs in the psych ward.

“I do, ma’am, I have an important message for you.”

“Stop all that ma’am bullshit, psycho, and spill it, I don’t have all day.”

“You’re right, you don’t.”

The woman snatched the tubing out of her neck that allowed the oxygen to flow into it. Moving quickly before someone entered the restroom, she pushed Clara’s wheelchair into the handicap stall. Clara stuck out her arms in an attempt to grab whatever she could around her but the loss of oxygen was making her lazy. With the strength of two men, the hooded women flipped the chair over causing Clara’s head to hit the toilet once she got her into the stall. Clara was knocked out cold on impact. Her electrolarynx rolled on the floor next to killer’s foot and she kicked it into the next stall. She knew Clara was knocked out and her lungs were in the process of collapsing but she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be able to call for help anyways.

After staging it to look like it was an accident caused by Clara trying to independently use the restroom, she locked the stall’s door. The contract worker had to admit that this was easiest hit she had been paid to do. The plan flowed exactly like the script was given for her to play out. She thought it would be hard to kill someone who was already dying, but that’s what had made the deed comforting.

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