Wednesday evening, sitting anxiously at my desk. I've made dozens of phone calls and have been sending texts for hours in an attempt to procure my favorite recreational drug for the weekend, with no success whatsoever. My regular dealer, and seemingly everyone I know with any degree of drug connections, have all said the same thing... The area is dry. Apparently, the Californian drought Has caused less than favorable conditions to grow.
I spend approximately 85% of my free time staring at a computer screen. For hours on end I'll research random things, such as bizarre world records, or strange facts about a wide array of subjects. Most of this research is harmless and benign. A few months back, I came across an article about the 'Deep Web'. After finishing the article I became somewhat obsessive about this dark, sometimes frightening, and almost mythical underworld of internet activity.
Leaning forward in my chair, elbows on my knees, and head in my hands, trying to recall any connections to people that can provide what I'm looking for, I remember reading about communities within the Deep Web that offer literally any drug I could possibly want. Knowing that all avenues explored thus far have been barron, I begin the process of finding a way to satisfy my needs via the internet. After downloading some software, a few clicks of the mouse, and some keystrokes, I've arrived at my destination. Combing through the listings, I come accross a deal that seems far too good to be true, primarily because it offers my preferred strain at what seems like a discount compared to the other offerings. I decide to buy in bulk, considering the attractive pricing, and expedient delivery. After a successful transaction, four ounces will be delivered Friday afternoon.
My parents have been rather successful in life. My father, Lenny, made his fortune by building a small business into a chain of successful locations. My mother, Cassandra, worked for decades as a registered nurse, but lost three fingers a few years ago due to infection caused by an injury she had incurred. Because of her husband's success, she decided to stay home and tend to her family. Cassandra, always the loving mother, has spoiled her son rotten since birth. She was unable to have more children, so she made damn sure that her baby boy was as happy as possible.
Thursday morning, and I wake up with the knowledge that my weekend will be spent in a daze of marijuana induced bliss. Walking into the kitchen I see a familiar sight, my mother has prepared breakfast, and is waiting at the table for her son to join her before eating. After thanking my mother for a delicious meal, I return to my room to partake in my favorite pastime. After reading up on how Robert Wadlow grew to be an astounding 8'11" tall, and looking at pictures of human oddities including the man with a parasitic twin, and various sets of conjoined twins, I call a few friends, inviting them to partake in a night of smoke filled shenanigans on Saturday night.
Friday morning, and the day has finally arrived. I know that in a mere few hours, I'll be in possession of a large quantity of my favorite cannabis. I glide into the kitchen, expecting a delicious breakfast with my loving mother, but I'm taken aback as I notice an empty table, and nothing on the stove. For the life of me, I can't remember a morning that my mother hadn't made me breakfast. I head up to my parent's bedroom to ask my mother about her failure to produce, but I'm surprised to find an empty, unmade bed. Mother must have had some errands to run, so I resign to having a bowl of cereal.
Time seems to be moving at a snail's pace, as thirty minutes, feel like two hours. My anticipation is at critical levels, so I play some League of Legends as I anxiously await the arrival of my package. Around noon I realize my mother is still nowhere to be found, so I give her a call. I hear my mother's angelic voice as the call goes straight to voicemail. I become slightly alarmed by this, as my mother is always very diligent in charging her phone, and having it handy in case her son needs anything. A call to my father may shed some light on what exactly is going on... Voicemail. My concern is growing, but I figure there must be a reasonable explaination, so I return to my video game.
After a few hours of battling strangers from around the world, I go to the refrigerator to grab some lunch. Midway through the preparation of my turkey sandwich, the doorbell rings. Sprinting to the door with an almost childlike skip in my step, I just know my highly anticipated package has arrived. The door whips open, and there it is... A beautiful white box, with blue stripes, and a hand drawn smiley face, with the words "Your business is greatly appreciated, have a lovely day" written underneath.
I carry my package up the stairs, into my room and leave it on the desk as I return to finish assembling my sandwich. After hurriedly devouring my lunch, I fly up the stairs, lock the door, just in case, and sit at my desk. Finally running my pocket knife through the tape and peeling back the flaps. As I dig through the packaging I'm suddenly overcome with a sense of extreme horror... Its a hand... I remove the hand out of the box... There's only a thumb, and a single finger with my mother's wedding ring shining in the light of my desk lamp...
To be continued...
Submitted January 06, 2016 at 12:55AM by Samwisenheimer http://ift.tt/1ZMnZk1 nosleep
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