(Warning! Scene that contains overdose!)
Sinbad looked menacing even in the state he was in, a presumed condition of death. His ostensibly unusable arms looked to be gripping the armrests on either side of him. His mouth was set in a stern frown. Even Annette was a bit intimidated by how he was sitting.
His appearance seemed to fit in with the rest of the room somehow. Said room was surrounded by a chain-link fence, with broken wood sticks lining up against one of the walls.
Annette remembered what the area that she was looking at was meant to emulate, and shuddered. She tried unsuccessfully to rid her mind of the image, and stepped forward.
Right when she got close enough, Sinbad reached out and forcibly grabbed her wrists. His unflinching displeasure turned into anger as he realized who it was before him.
“I can’t believe I have to rely on you to help me!” He shouted at her. It then felt as though he had forcibly pushed her into the first scene.
The Bridgeport of two decades or so ago looked quite different than in the future. The buildings weren’t nearly as big in the city, and everything looked much less modern.
Even the house Annette now stood at looked like it changed greatly. She only knew it from its general location.
“Maybe the inside of this place won’t be so dusty…” She said to herself as she pushed through the door into the main room.
In front of a cheap-looking television sat a young, red-haired boy in his pajamas. He scowled at the poor quality of the screen, as he tried to make out what exactly he was trying to watch.
“Sinbad…?” Annette knew he couldn’t hear her, but she felt compelled to say his name anyway. It was a very somber and worrisome thought to know what he would soon be put through.
The door to the nearby bedroom opened, revealing who Annette presumed was Sinbad’s mother Maria. She certainly had his red hair, at least.
With about as much grace and tact as a clumsy rhinoceros, Maria took a swig out of a whiskey bottle she was holding, and glared down at her son.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” She angrily slurred at him.
Little Sinbad just curled up in a protective manner. “It’s Saturday, Ma.” This innocent observation resulted in Maria flinging her whiskey bottle across the room, causing a loud crashing noise.
“Don’t you talk back to me, you little brat!” Maria then approached Sinbad in a most threatening way.
Annette could only clap her hands over her mouth as the poor child was pinned to the floor, with him trying to cover his face and attempting to shield himself from his drunken mother’s blows.
Then Annette turned away. She certainly didn’t want to see a child being beaten in such a way that was sure to leave bruises.
Once the sound of punches stopped, Maria then picked Sinbad up by the hair and shoved him toward the bathroom.
“Now stay in there until I’m done with the next client, or else you’re sleeping outside tonight!” She hollered at him as he ran to escape her.
Annette finally deemed it all right to look again when she heard the sound of something being opened. She then watched as Maria rummaged through some kind of case, pulling out various objects.
“Damn brat’s lunch money didn’t hardly get me what I want,” she muttered to herself. “I better get some kind of a high with this shit.”
Maria prepared her arm, then put some white powder into a spoon, which she promptly began preparing for injection.
“You pathetic woman,” Annette whispered to her. Although she felt pity for someone who followed a degrading profession, she also felt hatred for anyone who abused their child.
The first injection seemed to bring forth nothing, much to Maria’s displeasure. She prepared another injection, which quickly went into her veins. Still nothing.
“Son of a bitch!” She howled out. “Why isn’t this doing anything?!” She then stared at the syringe in her hand, almost as if she were trying to will it to work.
Now Annette stepped closer as the injections increased. It appeared they finally got a reaction. But it didn’t seem to be the one Maria wanted.
Crawling around on the floor, Maria proceeded to mutter about Sinbad, before vomiting profusely all over the carpet. She then began to make a loud, guttural sound.
Then, she fell to the ground face-first when her strength failed her.
All was still for what felt like an eternity, when it was only about a few minutes. Annette kept watching for any signs of life, but nothing. Maria didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t even appear to be breathing.
Sinbad then quietly crept out of the bathroom, out of some morbid curiosity. When he saw the corpse of his mother on the floor, his expression barely changed. He just kept staring down at her body.
He then proceeded to run out the door of the house, to some unknown place.
“Sinbad, wait!” Annette futilely shouted to him before the scene changed.