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 r***d and killed in front of me and my fat
