Until we close our eyes for good
It had been a couple of years since Anon had graduated from CHS. Currently he was sitting on his couch, the TV was playing some sort of daytime talk show drivel, but he wasn't watching it, more using it for background noise. He was also on his phone looking through the internet. Facebook was nothing but the usual boomer posts and political nonsense. The Reddit posts had nothing but the same old drivel for the past few days. All that was on Tumblr was the same memes as yesterday. He was bored. All-in-all, this was not where he thought he'd be twenty-four months after graduating high school, sitting in his apartment, using the TV as background noise as he doom-scrolled the internet.
Anon decided that sitting in front of his TV while doom-scrolling the internet was too boring and decided that walking down the street, seeing what stuck his fancy was what he needed to break up the monotony. Fortunately he had the day off, so he didn't have to worry about the noon rush at the convenience store. Grabbing the few loose dollars on his nightstand, he stuffed them into his wallet. He could've pulled out the lock box from under his bed that held a couple hundred dollars, but decided against it, as he had no desire to make any big purchases. Shoving his keys into his pocket, he grabbed his earbuds and made his way to the door. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he opened up Spotify and without looking, chose a song at random. A simple rock song with a funky jaunt played through his earbuds. "Ooh! That's a good one!" Pressing repeat on the song to make it play over and over until he got sick of it, he set off, kicking his heels and shimmying his shoulders to the music as he went along.
Anon could have walked around the routes he usually did, but today he felt a little adventurous. Making a left turn here, a right turn there and a zig instead of a zag, he found himself walking on the side of a road in a neighborhood that was a bit more rough and tumble than where he lived. Though the walls weren't covered with graffiti and riddled with bullet holes, he could tell that though this wasn't the worst of neighborhoods, this wasn't the best either. Undeterred, he continued his stroll onward.
Anon softly sang to himself the buildup for the first verse when a girl with strawberry blonde hair, hair that vaguely reminded him of bacon, strolled up to him. She was wearing short-shorts, a halter top with a sun printed on it and white tennis shoes. As she walked up, she had a seductive swagger to her hips. He pressed pause as she began to speak to him.
"I've not seen a guy look so all alone. You look like you could use a little company. If you pay me right, then this afternoon could be quite nice. Then you can go and be on your way."
Anon blinked at what was said to him. This girl, back in school had spent three years being the queen, capital-B, lowercase-itch of the school, after one fateful evening and a rainbow blast to the face, had turned her life around, and became one of the most popular people at school. Now it was apparent that after graduating, she had fallen on rough times and was now propositioning folks for a good time, just not a long time, for money. One he recovered from his initial shock, he took in a breath and asked, "You're such a pretty young gal. Everybody knew you. You could be a model, or have any guy or girl you wanted at any time. Why do you do this to yourself?"
Without even pausing, she replied, "There's no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees. I got bills to pay and I've got to eat. Nothing in this world is free. I can't slow down. I can't hold back. Even though I wish I could. There's no rest for the wicked, until I close my eyes for good. So, how about it? Fifty bucks and I give you the best afternoon you've seen in a while?"
Though tempting, Anon simply didn't have that kind of cash on him, so he simply waived her off. "Sorry, I just don't have the money or the time right now." Taking his music off pause, he continued his jaunt down the road.
After walking for about another thirty minutes, a familiar skinny guy approached Anon with a pistol in his hands. Anon recognized the guy as being the head of the A/V Club back in school.
The guy shoved the pistol's muzzle into Anon's gut, causing to lift his hands. "Give me all you got, I want your money, not your life. And don't try anything funny. If you do, I won't think twice."
Anon, slowly reaching for his wallet said, "You can have my money. It ain't worth my life. But first I gotta ask, what happened to you to make you choose this kinda life?"
Without hesitating, he replied, "There's no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees. I got bills to play and I've got to eat. Nothing in this world is free. So I can't slow down. I can't hold back. Even though I wish I could. There's no rest for the wicked, until I close my eyes for good. Now get that wallet out, or I'll put two in your guts!"
As the guy ran off, Anon felt dejected as he picked up his now empty wallet from the ground. He decided to go back home. Slamming the apartment door behind him, he flopped down on the couch, picked up the remote and turned on the TV. A daytime talk show featured a girl who barely looked fourteen, claiming that she was pregnant by three different guys, all of whom were sitting in chairs on the stage near her, the oldest of which looked eighteen. Just as the host was about to open the envelope to who the father was, the picture changed to a breaking news report.
There was dozens of cop cars parked out front of Canterlot High School and a reporter talking about the principals had been embezzling money for years. After a few minutes, Principals Celestia and Luna were being led out in handcuffs. The reporter rushed forward, gesturing to the camera operator. "Come on! Let's see if we can get a statement from them before they get taken off to jail." The reporter asked into the mic, "Luna! You were the vice-principal of this school for twenty years. Why did you embezzle money from the school?"
Luna scowled at the reporter and curtly said, "No comment!"
As the reporter turned to Celestia, before he could ask, she looked straight in the camera and said, "There's no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees. I've got bills to pay and I've got to eat. So I can't slow down. I can't hold back. Even though I wish I could. there's no rest for the wicked, until I close my eyes for good."
Anon blinked and goggled at the TV as the breaking news report ended, returning to the regularly scheduled program, which was another daytime TV talk show about secret devil-worshiping cults. He switched off the TV. There was a strawberry blonde gal who was turning tricks for money and he had a couple hundred dollars that were just sitting there burning a hole in the lock box. Pocketing the money, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and said, "Ain't no rest for the wicked, 'til we close our eyes for good!"
Author's Note
This story came to me when listening to "Ain't No Rest For The Wicked" for the umpteen thousandth time and in a fit of manic creativity, decided to write it.
I know some of you will be asking, "Why is it only Anon tagged in this story." Well to you whom I created in my head and only I can hear, I decided that Anon was the main focus of the story, everybody else was at best tertiary to this story.