The Burnsfield Project

The names Gregg, Gregg Burnsfield.  I guess you could call this a memoire of sorts, an acknowledgement of my life or don't call it anything at all and just sit there, shut your mouth and read.  Obviously by writing this, you know any story I tell here on in, even if death finally gets her cold hands around my scrawny little neck, I managed to survive long enough to get all this down on paper.  Everyone thinks that Hell is a fictional place but I know that to be untrue because I was already there; Hampton, Virginia.  This city is nothing more than a gathering place for old, rich, white people living out their pointless lives and passing judgment on the rest of us for trying to live our own.My mental state wasn't always this…hostile or abrasive I guess you could call it, but being born here, having grown up here as a little kid, raised here, and knowing my death was probably gonna happen here, happy thoughts and rainbows just weren't for me.  My

Waking up was a disappointment; waking up with the worst headache in the history of human society, just the cherry on top of a big shit cake.  Why is the sun so bright, where the fuck am I?  The room is all white, bed, sheets, chair, curtains; shit the fucking television is white.  Secluded in a desolate room, beaten to shit, excellent."Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp…"  Rotating my head as far as I could before the brace caught and then it became all too clear, the monitors and the IVs and all that jazz.  All I can hear is the "Beep, Bomp," of the monitor, nothing but "Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp."…with every chime from the machines, time seemed to skate by.  The reality was, time was barely ticking away.  Second by second. That smell, that taste, the remnants of that fleshy dick in my mouth.  What the fuck happened to me, when is someone going to acknowledge me?  With all this fuc

I sit straight up from a dead sleep, like they do in the movies when there victim is stuck in a horrible flashback dream. "Fucking shit!  God dammit!  This fucking cell phone!"  Apparently when you plug your cell phone in so that it can charge and act as an alarm for you, the other end of the wire needs to be plugged into the motherfucking wall.The sunlight was shining in through the window, the yellowish fungus growing on the window pane made the sunlight almost green as it struck my swollen face and the disgusting floor Holly and I shared last night.  Oh shit, Holly! I look to my right and then to my left, where the fuck was this chick?  I don't have anything to worth any money, she couldn't have taken off.  Could she? Flush.  The bathroom door opens and out walks Holly, still fully nude underneath that coat I had so chivalrously provided for her last night.  "Damn, you scared me, I…I tho

Speech has escaped me, "Uhhh…yeah…err…that's, that's John.  My old partner."  I shuffle over to John as Mills smacks him awake. "Oww man!  What the shit was that for?  Jesus, I'm a fucking cop motherfucker!" Obviously, John hasn't realized being a cop down here didn't mean shit.  The he turns and sees me, "Gregg, Gregg what is this man?  Get me out of here man!"Mills steps back, walks to the table and sets his knife and gun on it then exits the room.  I scan the room; there are no obvious cameras, no signs restricting any sort of action.  Am I supposed to kill him?  Seriously?  Is that what the gun and knife were left in here for?John is incessantly pleading to me, calling out to me to rescue him from this room.  I never wanted to hear this fat fucks voice again in my life.  I never wanted to see his fat ass face again.  He was the one responsible for this situation I'm

I opened the bathroom door with a feeling of empowerment, authority.  In my mind, this is just another catalyst in my life, one that I will conquer.  Mills and the boys were not at their desks anymore.  The entire place was quiet, too quiet. Starting from the farthest part of the room the banks of lights begin to shut off.  The darkness is creeping towards me, like it has always done.  Darkness is scary but it's actually emotional darkness that I fear the most.Now, I'm standing in between the bathroom and The Boss's office, yet to move a muscle.  If something was going to happen then it was going to have to come to me, I stayed put.  The fact I was in the dark merely strengthened my remaining senses.I could smell something, something like corn chips or nasty ass feet.  My skin was ultra-sensitive, like a radar device scanning all surrounding areas around me for any sort of approach or movement.  My ears felt a