Bad Seed
Thirty-Three: Geovanni Rossi
Sitting up in my huge king-sized bed. The doctor poking about on my body as I groan. “Sir please lay back down.” This kid tells me holding my shoulder like I am feeble. I shake his hand off of me. “I’m fine. Just tell me what is going on with me.” I state, staring down this kid who looks like he is about to wet his pants. He lets his hand fall off of my shoulder as he takes a step back looking at me with fear in his eyes.
I don’t give a sh*t about his fear. Or anyone’s fear, I know that fear. I was raised with that fear of leaving my homeland when I was just a boy. How my parents didn’t have anything or anywhere to go once we reached the states. Just because as soon as we got here, we were robbed. My mother raped and killed in front of me and my fat
