Cigarettes

When I was nine years old...
my grandfather would send
me to the store to buy cigarettes.
It wasn't legal.  But that's how it was.

They all knew Grandpa and most were
afraid of the old Sicilian and to those
not afraid - a sale is a sale, anyway!
Kids as young as 6 bought smokes.

Grandpa only got out of his chair
once a day to take a crap.  He wasn't
a large man but it took several of
the female family to get him standing.

When he had to piss, they had a good
seasons salad dressing cruet to place
his shriveled cock into.  Yes, they used the
same one for mixing dressing.  It got washed!

I usually bought Grandpa's cigarettes after
school since the store was open at 11am
and it closed at 1am.  Drunk and lazy ghetto
people hours that fit my entire family.

Grandpa had a stroke a year earlier
during sex with my aunt.  It was either so
good or so bad or just his time to start
dying. You just never know. Do you?

It was a Friday after-school and my Mom
and 3 of her 7 sisters were at Grandpa's place. We lived in an apartment right below Grandpa.  Grandma was long dead.  That nasty cunt!

Usually Grandpa would have me come to
his chair and beg for a candy bar that I
really didn't want. He would try to put his hand
in my panties and his tongue in my mouth.

Strangely that Friday, Mom gave me $2 and
told me to run to the store and just wake
Grandpa when I got back. The four women
were oddly giddy. My task took 5 minutes.

They were drinking and more giddy when I
returned. "Wake up, Grandpa!" I said and
then I shouted!  But Grandpa was cold and
he was dead.  It was a joke to them.

I grew up that day.  I didn't cry.  I listened
to those bitches say that at least none of
them would have to suck his dick, again.
They were happy he was dead!  So was I.

I grew up that day.  I drank with Mom and
her sisters.  I smoked my first cigarette.
We laughed and we giggled and we drank
so fucking much - then they raped me!