The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

"Here, girl, take some more!" A large black man handed Leo's naked and inebriated mother more rum for her to drink.

Leo, from the thin sliver in the door, watched with doleful eyes as his pitiful mother drank and slobbered the alcohol before falling completely off of the bed in a heap and laughing about it. It was at that stage that Leo pulled himself away from the door and staggered into the tiny kitchen to sit at the table. From where he was he could hear both his mother and her friend laugh and carry on while the stench of marijuana left the room making it look as though it were on fire. The young boy pressed his hands against his ears as tight as he could while weeping ever so quietly. There was always his outside refuge, but he was so sick and tired of retreating that listening to his mother night in and night out only seemed therapeutic at that point. And the nights always seemed to drag on endlessly.

"Hey, boy," his mother's friend came into the kitchen with only a pair of boxers on his body. "Why ya in here" he stumbled. "Why ya not outside where ya belong?"

The man reeked of rum from head to toe. It was so strong on him that it made him smell as if he had been soaking in the liquid for hours.

Getting up from the table, Leo meekly remarked with his head down, "I was going outside."

The man halted Leo's progression out the doorway. He stood there with his bottle of rum while looking lazily down at the frightened child.

"Ya never tell me your mama was such a great lay! I'd be over here sooner!" He laughed.

Leo never looked up at the man. He blushed before attempting to bypass him only to be caught by the man and lifted up by his shirt collar to eye level.

speakin' to ya, boy!" The man breathed into

his little body remained in the air. Soon, the man dropped him to the floor before dragging his drunken

to become, albeit, the anger was always there, just tempered by his love for his mother. The more he heard the man inside the shack laugh and toss bottles around, that was all the more Leo wanted to get up and

and took out a revolver. The boy opened the chamber and examined all the bullets inside before taking a glance back at his shack's front door with a bitter glare on his wet face. He then turned back around and looked even harder at

something creeping up the metal steps, and that same something sounded heavy and brooding, like it were stalking after someone. Leo stood in place at that instant, not exactly from fear but from sheer curiosity. The more he heard his mother and her friend laugh and carouse inside, the more

the stairs and peered down only to hear the snarling racket grew even more intense. Leo jumped back, dropping his gun to the ground in the process. The heavy plodding made the already fragile steps sound as if they were about to collapse under the weight of whatever was creeping upon them. Out of fear, Leo knelt down and wedged

The two beams blinked off and on at him before a set of slobbering, white fangs appeared right before his very eyes. The boy could smell the mustiness of the animal's thick fur. Leo grunted while losing his breath. He knew that the animal had heard him, and yet, just belting out a simple squeak

and her

"What's gwan on up here, boy?" An

But Leo had no words for the old man. All he could do was stand in awe and listen as bodies

is dat up in

for one last grasp of life. The old man immediately grabbed Leo and took him back

"What's happening?" A woman

someting up dere!" The old man breathlessly cried out as he kept on running down the