I don't own the Powerpuff Girls.
Just words I had in my head and wrote down. Nothing special.
Butch.
A simple name.
Easy.
…easy…
Shit.
What the fuck did I do this time?
Simple, what kind of fucked up person called my name simple? Called me simple? Fuck her! She deserves to die, the stupid bitch!
…shit.
God, the walls are talking. Telling me what the do, telling me how badly I screwed up my life, screwed up myself…and my family…
Shit!
Why doesn't that bitch fucking leave me? Take our daughter and just fucking go. It would be easy that way, simple.
…simple…
"Butch?"
"hm?"
"I love you."
"…I love you too."
Did I lie?
No. I love her, I know it.
I fucking love her so fucking much, and our daughter. Her green eyes glow like mine, her hair flows like her mother's.
She's so fucking beautiful.
Please, don't let her end up like me.
Shit.
Why can't this be simple? Why can't I be simple? I mean, fuck, I didn't mean to shot him. He got in my fucking way! The other guy was fucking playing with me! What the fuck was I supposed to do! It was that bastard's own fault for getting in the way, it was his fault I shot him instead.
…It was his fault I killed him instead…
…Boomer…What the fuck have I done?
Shit!
Maybe, if Brick was still around…
No.
I don't even want to think about that.
…
"Butch?"
"What now, woman?"
"Is Brick…Is he really-"
"Shut up."
"But, I want to know what happened!"
"You don't have to know, bitch!"
"Fucking, Butch, I fucking hate you! I'm leaving and I'm taking our daughter!"
"Good! I don't fucking want you or our daughter! Fucking take her! Get the fuck out! Leave! Leave just like fucking Brick did!"
"…Butch, I…I love you."
"Shut the fuck up and go."
…
Why the hell did she stay?
Fuck…Memories suck ass.
"Butch?"
"Yeah?"
"How many people have you killed?"
"… I ain't never killed no one."
"Really?"
"Really."
Well, I sure as hell lied that time.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it.
Why am I such a fuck up?
…
Suddenly, I feel hands on my shoulders, lifting me to my feet to walk. My hands hurt, binned behind my back as I walk slowly through the prison and to the court, the Jury has decided my fate.
Please, make this easy and make me fucking guilty.
Guilty, please, please, guilty.
"We, the Jury, find the defendant, Butch Jojo, not guilty on all charges."
What the fuck?
"Butch, we won! We won!" her voice breaks through the crowd, my wife, our daughter standing close to her, clutching her hand tightly in her much smaller one.
She thinks I'm innocent…but only because I told her so.
Why am I here?
Wasn't the evidence obvious? What kind of fucked up justice system is this?
The answers hits me painfully as a red hat is placed backwards on one of the jury's heads.
Brick… you fucking asshole.
I smile, time for my life to get a take two…and this time, Brick can't leave, and won't let anyone die. No one.
That's my answer for my life.
It's simple that way.
Easy.