SO CLOSE TO DEATH I COULD SMELL HIS BREATH

HARBINGER OF DOOM

 I was more invested in keeping my cracked melon a secret from my Aunt.

After what I saw the night before and the fact like I had a giant pumpkin on top of my shoulders for a head, I wasn't about to go de-tasseling with the hot high-school chicks that my big head would obscure my sexiness. And the tenacity that my brother would actually come out and ask if I was still going to work showed that his elevator didn't make it past garage level in logic.

No, I was not going to de-tasseling. But when the sun was up through those half-moon windows in the basement, it was enough that I couldn't hide the damage. My brother flipped a KFC biscuit when he saw the dried blood on my shirt and couch -- the pillow. I was a walking broken blood bank, squeezing out pints at wholesale. Now my brother wanted revenge -- the inquisition came out in him and I spilled the beans to who delivered the harrowing blows.

We stormed down to the turd's house that set me up. On the way, we could see the blue bandannas that were shredded in the melee, coated in my blood. The turncoat answered the door and pleaded dumb. Only he didn't have to plead, he was already stupid.

A trail of blood lightly coated the usual spittle and gum marks of the sidewalks.

TIME WAITS FOR NO MAN

We got back to the house and things started to go Twilight Zone. My mind began slipping. I would stare at a clock, or the timer on the VHS -- yeah, this happened in 1993 -- a VHS machine. I would close my eyes and increments of an hour or two would fleet by. Twice I spaced out and my brother was in front of me pushing on me or snapping his fingers. This happened four or five times.

Then the last trance-out I heard my Aunt upstairs cooking. My brother seemed to be more shocked than me. My only fear was she can't catch me -- "Kids, dinner's ready!" my Aunt bellowed. Food was going to taste like a cheap hooker on a stick at this point.

MY MIND: I'll just shield my bad side and eat on the side of the table where she can't see my Freddy Kruger face.

REALITY: You ain't hidin' this shit. ( And yes my Reality was a disgruntled black guy with the fairest Eubonics money can't buy -- Shaft! Whoa ohhhhh... that's Shaft to the 1960's Flash Gordon call to arms.)

I got upstairs according to my plan -- it's working. My Aunt's over doing her thing at the kitchen island -- and about the moment I heard a dish fall and break was about the time that I realized I was so discombobulated that my bad side was the side facing her!!!

Mayhem was unleashed...

The cops were called. My brother spilled the beans. I guess his vitriolic diatribe of revenge went right out the window because we just telegraphed our murderous intent to the cops. Everything was a blur, time was bellicose, robbing me of seconds. All I remember is refusing to go to the hospital. I would not have made a good heroin addict -- I hated needles. I refused to go on account of the needles.

Time flickered again and I was attempting to play some Super Nintendo game downstairs. Yes, another strong indicator that this was 199-ancient 3. As I was playing, I started to feel water in my eyes -- you damn big baby -- almost get your head kicked around like a soccer ball and you're gonna cry about it? That was reality again.

I felt drops on my hands. I rubbed my eyes -- blood. I rubbed my nose -- blood. My mouth - blood. I was bleeding like a -- don't go cliche, don't go cliche, don't go cliche -- a stuck guinea pig. You thought I was going to say "pig."

This is when the fear of God washed over. This is not natural on any level. Next time skip and I was in the emergency room with two fossils for ladies across from me. They were looking at me like I was some spectacle at a wax museum. I wasn't feeling their four eyes dissect my screwed up head. The fam must have been signing me in.

As my one eye was keeping a watch on their four eyes I felt the urge to vomit. And if I could have projected right I would have done it on the look E loos -- but I expectorated blood all over the hospital floor.

This is when I realized things had really failed to turn in my direction. The seriousness was far beyond my comprehension -- this wasn't a scrapped knee I was going to rebound with...

Next week, THEY'VE CREATED A MONSTER...