Joy sat in her wheel chair. She stared at the paint peeling off the walls of her poor white trash house. She could hear the roaring engines as they circled the Speedway Race Track.
It was not suppose to be like this. She hurt. She was paralyzed but her internal nervous system could move. It was a rabbit that lived inside of her. A relentless gnawing, chewing rabbit.
The love of her life gone. All due to her intoxication of a life, out of her reach, and the seduction of a skinny boy.
She picked up the thirty eight special ~ the standard weapon on the Westside. She put it to her temple and pulled the trigger.
Celeste and Agnes were riding horses with Joy. She was a weekend guest. She was so happy. She had a new friend who was “rich”. She was wearing one of Agnes’s outfits that her mother had made for her at a specialty shop.
Celeste can still remember Joy’s blonde hair. The blue and gold outfit. Clothes she never would have had on her own. When Joy smiled it was ear to ear. She was riding behind Agnes. Happy in the moment.
Later as they were putting the horses away, Agnes coldly informed eleven year old Celeste that Joy was going to get gang banged.
Furrowing her brows, Celeste asked,” What is gang banged?”
“Oh, they’ll trap her in the woods and a bunch of the boys will have sex with her. She’s poor white trash. That’s just the way it is.”
Celeste’s brows continued to furrow.
The skinny boy was jealous of Joy and anyone else that had a true love.
He planned a scheme.
He talked Joy into going for a ride in his new car. He assured her Timmy, her love, wouldn’t mind. They trusted each other.
With a grin on his face. He headed straight to the pines. He had her in the back seat, holding back his orgasm until he saw the lights of his friends’ car coming down the dirt road. He stood up, His back car door wide open, his pants around his ankles and his Gant shirt covering his genitals. The shirt wet at the bottom. He was still grinning.
“Come on y’all, I’ve got a nice piece of ass here.”
Timmy, the only one who was unaware saw that it was Joy in the back seat.
His mind exploded and his heart turned black. He acted as if he was unaffected. He said he didn’t want sloppy fourths.
He was tortured by what had happened. He never thought to blame it on his friend. It was Joy’s fault.
All their dreams, thoughts of a wedding, children a future was gone. His LOVE.
He took his gun to Joy’s house to kill her, but failed. He only paralyzed her.
Celeste asked questions again. She got the same cold response from Agnes.
No one cared. She was poor white trash.
There is joy, joy, joy down in our hearts, down in our hearts.
No one heard the gun fire of Joy killing herself.
A seventeen year old local boy was being cheered for his outstanding racing back at the Speedway. He was full of Joy.
To this day no one thinks of Joy.Continue reading 66 – Joy