Dea(r)(d) Leland

          I am writing this entry from my watershed heights apartment. Leland is dead. I spent so long learning his every move, studying his ways, and waiting for the moment to strike. Tonight, the most spledid opportunity presented itself--it was like the universe was looking out for me. There was a fire at the carnival, a fire that was small and yet just big enough to eat Leland.

         It was like jazz. A small meat trailer is set alight and these two little women come hurdling out, desperate to save themselves from catching fire. I was a few paces behind Leland when it happened. Something in my brain ticked. I began to sprint full throttle towards him. I knew I could overtake him with brute force, I being 6-5 and 250 pounds of raw muscle, Leland being 5-8 and scrawny. His humungous wife-beater worked against him--cause you know, it hadn't ever before, with the chicks digging his style OH SO MUCH. I grabbed him by his shirt, spun and flung him directly into the flames, completely unnoticed in the surrounding tumult. To make sure of his death, I reached for a bottle of rum that some old bootleg had been selling and I fed the fire its second-helping. Then, right in the center of all the flames and madness was a disappointed-looking nun, eyeing me. She must've been the only person who saw what I did. She wasn't upset, she wasn't angry, she was just staring at me with sad-eyes. I felt a fleeting tinge of remorse, and strangely, I never did (and I still don't) have any fright that she may try to track me down or turn me in and send me to jail. She seems to me like one of those religious messages the universe was sending my way. Like the priest I saw a few moments prior to killing Leland, the nun came after and she kept looking at me, unflinching. It felt like our eyes locked for hours though it was likely about five seconds. I turned my back to the nun and the flames and went back to watershed heights where I am writing these words right now. 

          Back to Leland: his body burned to ash, flitted into the air. He's probably floating around atop the trees right now, maybe in that gated community he wanted to be in so badly. Maybe the wind is swirling him past all the rap clubs and the dirty shops and back to Decatur GA where he belonged. His death is a shame--it's always a shame when a man burns without seeming reasons. I never knew my reasons, but someone did, someone knew why he had to die. I fear I won't be able to rest in peace until I know why Leland "rests in peace."