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[Purge Gathering]
Oct. 27th, 2024 12:15 pmThe siren sounds, a swooping song shocking beneath my skin -- the gunshot at the beginning of a hotly anticipated race. I've never been more ready. Knife in my pocket, nestled under my emotional support backpack, hair up ready to run, crawl, scrape, rail -- wherever the night takes us.
Joel's company is a welcome surprise. If I squint, I could pretend we're back in the world I knew, comfort in chaos and the added bonus of knowing nothing can hurt me. I need this; it's nice to know he gets that.
Also, I got that gun I've been asking for.
We step out into the mayhem. People running for shelter, smashing store windows, carrying improvised and carefully selected weapons -- some snarling, some cowering. Noise and tension. For a moment, I stand in it, Joel by my side. I can feel him looking at me, but I don't look back. Soaking in the chaos, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Something is building in me, urgent, dark and right. Though there are people around us seeking mayhem, they seem to have their own agendas. A group of three kids I've never seen before pursue a clumsy cop, whistling and oinking. They're dogging him so hard, none of them see when his baton rolls off of his belt. It lands so near to my feet it almost feels like a gift from the city. I take it. Examine it. Feel its weight. Once I've determined the thing extends, I slide it out with a badass flick of my wrist. Holy shit. It's just a blunt instrument, no electric shock.
For my first Purge trick, I walk to the first car I see. The baton strikes the driver's side window and it shatters down in a perfect sheet of raining glass. My heart takes off, flying into my throat, stomach warm with what I can only describe as relief.
I reel back and hit every window, each harder than the last. I don't stop until I've heard the pop and smash of all four cars parked along the curb. My cheeks are beat red, smile wrapped around my face.
Joel's company is a welcome surprise. If I squint, I could pretend we're back in the world I knew, comfort in chaos and the added bonus of knowing nothing can hurt me. I need this; it's nice to know he gets that.
Also, I got that gun I've been asking for.
We step out into the mayhem. People running for shelter, smashing store windows, carrying improvised and carefully selected weapons -- some snarling, some cowering. Noise and tension. For a moment, I stand in it, Joel by my side. I can feel him looking at me, but I don't look back. Soaking in the chaos, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Something is building in me, urgent, dark and right. Though there are people around us seeking mayhem, they seem to have their own agendas. A group of three kids I've never seen before pursue a clumsy cop, whistling and oinking. They're dogging him so hard, none of them see when his baton rolls off of his belt. It lands so near to my feet it almost feels like a gift from the city. I take it. Examine it. Feel its weight. Once I've determined the thing extends, I slide it out with a badass flick of my wrist. Holy shit. It's just a blunt instrument, no electric shock.
For my first Purge trick, I walk to the first car I see. The baton strikes the driver's side window and it shatters down in a perfect sheet of raining glass. My heart takes off, flying into my throat, stomach warm with what I can only describe as relief.
I reel back and hit every window, each harder than the last. I don't stop until I've heard the pop and smash of all four cars parked along the curb. My cheeks are beat red, smile wrapped around my face.
