A Lynching for Justice

ALERT WARNING: Violence, sex innuendo, and language not appropriate for young readers.

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My name is Justice Wilson. I had the experience of a lifetime. The hatred I saw in Mason Haggerty’s eyes assured me this was not a game. His squint, the tight colorless lips, and the bristly rope irritating my neck were the basis for that assurance. I was perched on a wobbly stool with my heels raised to relieve the stretch. I knew standing flat-footed would suspend me and cause choking, gagging and loss of breath. I tried to remain motionless realizing my only life-support was a molded plastic kitchen stool. The sudden removal of my support would result in a lynching. The thought made me wonder if death would be quick; would I, as I’d seen in the movies, jerk, with bulging eyes, and flaying feet piss myself…or worse?

As Mason stepped back, I recalled two days earlier we––the Baxter twins and me–– were entering the wooded grove behind the schoolyard to smoke the cigarettes I had stolen from my mother’s purse. We saw Brittany Haggerty resting her back against a sycamore while reading a romance novel. The sight of the girl flashed a tale I heard Toby tell about making out with her, and how she made him quit because ‘it was her time of month.’ I realized, if Toby was telling the truth, since that was last week, she probably wasn’t having a period now. The imagery took effect, I hoped she wouldn’t notice the bulge.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with adolescent stirrings. Roland Baxter sauntered up to her like a dog anxious to sniff and asked, “What ya’ readin’?”

“Does that stuff turn ya’ on?” he asked when she held up the book showing the cover.

“Sometimes,” she said not trying to hide the flirtatious tone.

‘So, what da’ ya’ do when it does?”

“I shiver and keep reading,” she said with an exaggerated shiver.

The hint of a smile did not go unnoticed. I involuntarily checked out the frayed material at the crotch of her Daisy Mae shorts. She must have seen my sly effort; she shifted her position teasing my attempt.

After that everything happened quickly. “There’s no reason to only read, here’s the real thing.” The girl, wide-eyed with gaping mouth was transfixed by the sight. Roland stood, blue jeans at his ankles, without underwear. Sliding his feet to prevent tripping, he approached the staring Brittany, grabbed her ankles and roughly yanked. Her back slid down the tree until her head hit the ground. He swiftly had the Daisy Maes past her knees. She too, had gone commando. I was even more aware of the bulge.

She tried to resist, but the strong boy made her attempts feeble, and a hand on her throat ended the insistent, “No, no, please,” she had been screaming. Soon all of us were a part of the action. The “yahooing,” and laughter made her once again plead with us to stop.

Suddenly all of the noise stopped. Ronald looked at Roland and shouted, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?”

“Ya’ don’t want her telling her brother about this and have that big jock after your ass do ya’?”

“‘Course not, but did ya’ kill her?”

“’Hope so, else it would be even more reason for Mason to whoop your ass and our’s.”

The blood pooling and matting her hair left no doubt we were safe from Mason Haggerty’s wrath. I’m not sure how he found out it was us, but obviously he did.

“–Stop! Don’t do that.”

I could hear the female’s voice but I couldn’t see her. The large knot resting against my cheek prevented me turning my head and it was forcing my vision toward the ground. I strained my eyes to the corners where I saw a petite woman her face inches from Mason telling him what he had in mind was wrong.

“He raped and killed Brittany, mom. He’s gotta’ pay for that.”

“Yes, he does,” she agreed. “But you are not the one to make him pay; that responsibility lies elsewhere. I have already lost a daughter because of this piece of shit. If you kill him, he will cost me a son as well.”

It was then I knew this was Brittany’s mother. She was the last person I would have expected to extend my life’s expectancy. She was protecting me for the sake of her son, but that was okay. I anxiously anticipated my release and a chance to rest my legs as she walked toward me. “I’ll do it,” she said, kicking the stool from under my raised heels.

Oh my God, were my final thoughts before the gagging began.

By Dresden Fear

From: United States

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