Still Carl

Carl opened his eyes. The hole that was his daytime crib was damp.
"Fuck, it musta rained today."
He crawled out of the floor and looked around the house. Ragged furniture, dirt everywhere, and the fucking stink of the crazy lady that stayed here during the day. The TV was still on, some rerun of lions in Africa.
Carl looked at the thin, starving lions on the TV while the presenter explained that during the dry seasons, the lions of the Serengeti could spend days without food, and that many died of starvation during this season.
Carl felt his hunger surge. It was two nights since he was taught to eat in this new “life”. Bennett was coming over later, but he did not specify when.
“Fuck that”, thought Carl, “I’m hungry, I ain’t gonna wait for Bennett. I need some go-juice”
He pulled his grey hoodie with the Cubs print over his head and headed out to the car.
He pulled the car out of the driveway and headed towards the small village on the other side of the highway. Zoned out, his thoughts wandered;
“Bennett really fucked me good”. “I wonder what's mom doin’?” “Is Laurence ok?” “Can mom get enough paper to pay for his medicine by herself?” “Was Jay scared when that sick fuck carved him up?” “What did Jay’s blood smell like?” “How am I supposed to help my family in this fucking state?”
He parked the car by the tunnel under the freeway and walked to the residential area beyond the tunnel. Walking the streets in this sleepy suburb was weird. Normal people in their houses lit by the glow of their TVs, eating dinner. Putting kids to bed. Living normal fucking lives.
“Well I ain’t never getting that” thought Carl…”so get it out of your mind nigga. You have a mission, and it ain’t safe for you to walk around this white people village”.
He stopped between the light cones of two street lights. “Yeah, in the shadows, that’s where I belong now. And fuck am I hungry. Or is it thirst? Fuck if I know, but I need some grits”. He glanced into the nearest house. A husband and wife drinking coffee in their kitchen. Naw, that’s too risky, I can’t break into houses like some psycho and eat some poor fools.
Suddenly the woman got up and went out of the kitchen. She came to the front door and opened it. A dog came storming out of the house, barking and wagging his tail.
The woman leashed the dog and they started down the street towards Carl.
Carl stepped back into the bushes and watched the woman take the dog on a walk around the block. His whole being was on edge. This seemed too perfect. He started following the woman, slowly getting closer to his prey.
Just 20 steps behind the woman now. This is happening. He could smell the expensive perfume of the woman, but most of all, he could smell her sweet blood, pumping around in her warm body, keeping her alive. His fangs extended.
Suddenly the night was lit by blue and red flashes, and a police car came into view around a corner. Carl froze, his hunt interrupted. His fangs disappeared quickly. The woman continued her walk while Carl started following further behind this time. No more opportunity presented itself, and the woman got back home. She took the dog into the backyard and returned inside to her husband.
Carl watched from the bushes until the lights went out in the house. His whole body was writhing now, he needed sustenance. His eyes went to the backyard.
“Fuck it”, he whispered to himself as he crept around the house toward the dog shed in the backyard.
A few minutes later, Carl walked back through the tunnel to his car.
“Fuck man”, he thought. That did not hit the spot as good as last night. “I don’t wanna do that again. Maybe I should try to find some fitness mamma out for a night run tomorrow.”
Walking back to the car through the tunnel his mind wandered again.
“I can’t find Jay’s killer spending my nights in this fucking cracker suburb”. “Do I even care about findin’ Jay’s murderer now?” “Do I care about my mom?” “Bennett better fix this shit somehow!”.
“Am I still Carl?”

-Written by Ingemar Skelander, owner and operator of one Carl Owens