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A Short Story Of Zayatz: A Fictional Narrative

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slowly at Zayatz’s presence. “You all done?” His voice was strained. “I think so.” “You better be.” “I’m sorry.” “Just- drink this.” He reached over for the water and passed it back to Zayatz. “Forgot to give it to you earlier. I really don’t want another dead body on my hands.” Osborne pressed his forehead against the steering wheel with a sigh, closing his eyes. “I should have known this was going to happen,” he muttered. “You don’t just feed junk to someone after two months of-” He cut himself off, groaning and rubbing his temples. It didn’t look like the coffee was doing much for him. “Do you think.. we.. can find somewhere to stay?” Looking outside, it seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t even know what state they were in at this point. “No. We have to keep going.” Osborne turned the engine back on and pulled a cigarette out of the box he’d thrown into the passenger’s seat. Zayatz wondered how long it’d take for him to go through that carton and the two in the backpack. There was the clink of a lighter and the smell of smoke pervaded the…show more content…
Gas would drain whatever money Osborne had. And then what? Still, he wouldn’t try to remind Osborne of this. He probably just didn’t want to admit it, and pissing him off was the last thing Zayatz wanted to do. Besides, he wasn’t here to survive. If Osborne wanted to drive them into a corner, so be it. Fall asleep at the wheel and kill them both? Fine. Yes, Zayatz hated and feared Osborne more than anyone. He felt disgust and shame and everything in between at their shared existence. His very autonomy was stripped away every time Osborne gave him orders, he couldn’t even make eye contact unless Osborne demanded it because of the primal fear that caused his whole body to numb. But Zayatz was here because there was only one thing he feared more than the other, being alone
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