The Succ

Went to a concert. Show next to a show. Everyone had been in line for the other one. Hated that band.

Another time telling me I wanted the wrong thing.

Show was goin' fine. Like to go it alone. Stag has its own appeals, ya know. Prolly you dunno. Anyways...

Fine with it. Being alone. Watched the show. Cowboys and gothy chicks all the same all around. Show was belly-dancer front-men. Front-ladies I guess you'd call 'em.

Electronic soundin'. Dunno what to call it. A smart girl once told me the beat was middle-eastern, or she said somethin' like that.

Tiks and toks, clicks, motor-noises. Industrial and kinda chill. Juss' sounded good, ya know.

Front-girl was pretty. Pretty scary. Mascara and long hair and long arms and stuff.

So I moved in, tried to get into it. I like goin' alone when there's a crowd. You can be invisible that way. Juss' wanted to lose myself for a sec in the music.

Somethin', man I hate this part, somethin' bothering me. Fighting it, ya know, beside myself, like I'm scared to be alone or somethin'. And I'm not, so I dunno.

Hit me in the chest, up my throat, 'round my ears and head and stuff.

I really hate that shit. That panicky stuff that girls get and cry about.

Front-lady was wearing drums. Wearin' em, and swinging the drum sticks and pounding it. Certified badass. Wasn't doin' me good though, makin' it all worse around the ears and back of my head. Mainly in my chest.

Tried to shake it. Lil' respite, look down, hands roll over my head and down my face. Lil' blackness, recoop, bring it back, calm my shit down.

Look up, there's her tongue. Mouth wide, eyes like fangs, long tongue. Was cool as shit any other day. That was it for me. Couldn't breathe good.

Pushed on through the crowd. Out the back door, smokin' area and whatever. People millin' around, chattn', being some kinda weirdos missin' the best part of the show. Least I had a reason.

Couldn't shake it though. Feelin' just kept growin'. Looked for a spot. No sittin' tables or nothin'.

Just couldn' do much 'bout it.

Back in the corner where the lil' gate met the cement wall. No one seemed to care or pay me any mind, so I just crumpled there like a baby.

Juss' didn't know what I was fightn' ya know, but it was juss' hittn' me like waves.

Heart started calming down but rock and a hard place was still in me.

Thought about callin' someone. Didn't know who. Remembered this sorta family friend. We only had had one talk, was a good talk, nice connection. Not related to me or nothin' but it wadn't like that. Just kinda special, outside all the normal shit. Not a friend, not family, not a beef, not no relationship kinda spark. Juss' different. Tried the call. Sent a text. Nothin'. She wadn't into it, whatever, can't blame it.

You may not know, but in my world, they're everywhere. The they, the them. Walk around out in the open. It's a recent thing. But it's already old news in my world. You're in your world, readin' this. Mine's juss' like yours. I'm from the South. You can tell. All that. T'sall the same here. Cept here, spirit people walk around. Demons and angels and shit. Nano-deep-learnin-alogrithms..shit I dunno. But they happened. They got horns and all that. Sometimes.

Everyone knows you don't talk to 'em.

They ain't all that disruptive. Ever since that Song Book came out. They did too. The Casia Book. You don't know it. Anyways, they ain't violent or throw fireballs or eat babies or nothin. Prolly they do, but not anymore than people in your world already do. It's all within the same social lines and stuff. Anyways...

They walk around, sounds nutts, but they do. It's like a druggie or a pimp. You know it's bad, you juss' don't mess with 'em. And they always sellin' somethin'. Don't buy, ya know, simple. Live your life.

The thing is though...
...they don't come around when you care what they are.

I was down there, holdin' my knees. Kinda unbelieving that not one person said 'hey' or 'you OK'. I woulda done it. Whatever, not that unbelievable. That's what I get for goin' to a artsy snob concert or whatever the hell kinda people was around. Fake-ass bandanas and boas and shit. None of their shit was from the thrift store. All expensive. Rich artsy crowd. I juss' liked the music.

I was down there, juss' hurtn'.

And then a succ walked up. Saw her wings. You see them but you don't see them. Like a hallucination or a spirit vision kinda thing. They always flash you like that first. They don't really hide what they are.

They show up when you don't care what they are.

She had a smile. You can image it. Eyes kinda squinting. Like she was plottin' shit. Which I'm sure she was, bein a succ.

Not much to describe about her. She had clothes on. Jeans, tank, shoulder-length hair. Kinda brown hair, kinda red, some streaks of black. I dunno, I'm not good with describing girl hair styles.

Course she was pretty, slim with curves. Borderline hot. Nothin' all that special.

I didn't say nothin'. She juss' stood there over me.

My rock and the hard place were in my chest, in my head, in my I dunno. Some kinda feelin' that feels inescapable.

And then, shit. I juss' wanted someone to give a damn. Sometimes you're hurtin' and there's no way to talk 'bout it. Or no one around wants to hear it. Sometimes you're hurtin' and just want to be acknowledged. Know what I'm sayin'?

Rock and a hard place. Then her there. She didn't say nothin'. Just had that lil' smile. Like she knew or was plottin' shit.

I looked up at her. My look showed her I knew what she was. She didn't say nothin' back. Her lil' smile just looked happier. She had her arms crossed. Swayed a lil'. Like a dog waggin' it's tail.

It's uncomfortable to be before somebody and neither is talking. Just standing over me staring at me smiling like a weird ass. Kinda rude, but ya know, succ, no one really calls 'em on it.

Couldn't keep my mouth shut. My dumbass. Man I must have looked pathetic. Low points, everyone has 'em. So I talked first, like a dumbass.

"So what? Whatta ya want? Shit."

She just looked happier. Still doin' her lil' cross-armed sway.

"What? I dunno, chick. Maybe juss' leave me be."

Some of the folks around looked back at me. At her. Oh, now they care, huh? Saw me makin' a mistake. They backed away. Like they was givin' me permmission to fuck up my whole life. Juss' made her whole hellfire argument more valid.

She bent down. Looked at me with skilled and bogus compassion. Had a Mississippi accent. "Awkay."

She got up, walked off. And my dumbass watched her walk away. Never watch a fine woman walk away when she knows you're lookin'.

So I got up. And then I followed after her.

Shit.

How dumb can you be. Suckerfish meets fish in a barrel. That ought to be the name of this story.

To be Continued...

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This story is an original work and has not been tailored to any market research.
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