The Cemetery Prayer

The days were long, and they were seemingly going to string endlessly together. In a town where few ideas about this and that float around; a town where people are content with their morning coffee and catching the biggest fish, you find boredom. A typical thing for Jason to do was to just sit in the cemetery, and think about the dead. Often times he did as such because you only feel alive among the dead. But that is neither here nor there. Everyone thinks a bit differently, and from time to time somebody will say something that will knock you out. Today was Jason's day.

He awoke at about ten in the morning, sleeping in after getting stoned the night before. Odd thoughts crossed his mind the previous night, about proving this and that to so and so for who knows what end. None of that really matters. The point is, in the depths of the cemetery, he found one so seemingly alive that he felt dead as well. As he sat there pondering the ages of the deceased and thinking about their names, a strange redheaded girl in a bright yellow shirt with flowers and faces on it noticed him sitting there. He would have chosen to not be bothered, for he felt simply cool to be sitting alone content. But when oddness strikes the minds of two individuals at once; they connect for a fleeting glimpse into the living soul.

"What are you doing?" she said walking up to him.

"Nothing really, praying for the dead," he said. He got a kick out of that.

"The dead! Aren't you scared of their ghosts?"

He cracked a smile. "No."

"Listen, you can't mess around with this stuff. You're going to get in trouble with God if you keep doing this."

He burst out laughing. "Why?"

"Why?!" She seemed furious. "Because God wants you to go to church and stuff. You have to be careful what you're doing or you'll wake up the dead spirits!"

"I'm not scared of spirits, I'm just here," he said casually.

"Listen to me. Jesus Christ is your Lord and Savior! Do you believe?"

"I do. I didn't put those crosses up there. But that's not the point. I'm just here minding my own business because I don't have anything else to do. What are you doing here?"

"Me? I'm not the one with the problem. Are you sure you're not a goth kid or an emo?"

"What?"

"What kind of kid are you? A goth or an emo?"

"I...I guess I don't know what kind of kid I am. Spiritual I guess."

"Really," she said biting her nails. "Is that what you call it. Spiritual. I think you're just trying to impress everyone. I don't think you're a neat kid at all."

"Okay, listen here. I didn't do anything to you. I don't care what you say to me, but the cars will drive past and the birds will chirp, and the trains will echo. Just go away."

"That has nothing to do with it. You need Jesus."

"No. I know about Jesus. I just don't like you. Let's leave Jesus out of the fact that I just plain don't like you. You're a ginger and I don't like them one bit. They're creepy. And I'm just trying to mind my own business doing what I do in MY cemetery, and you're raising Hell."

"No. You're going to Hell if you don't be careful."

"I know, I know, but will you please just go away?"

"Fine. I'll go. But don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Alrighty! See ya!"

The ginger girl walked away into the distance and Jason sat there; staring at the tombstone.

Goodnight Earth

Trudging through deep snow

frostbite up to my knees

every breathe is a countdown to the end.

I know there is still life here,

But I know also that death awaits.

In the last moments, I find balance

Within the unknowable nothingness

There is neither life nor death

Each step is closer to emptiness

I collapse into the snow

I will die here, this I know.

Finally, I can rest.

At the very end it is realized

My body selfishly tries to keep its warmth

While the earth just wants to welcome me back to the cold

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Reverse Reverse Psychology

It’s a battle of wits of all things to be found

We battle with words when the fists have fallen languidly to the ground

This was a war for the greatest dichotomy

When he taught me a thing or two about reverse-reverse psychology

He drifted into town with nothing but a camera and charisma to boot

He drifted out of town with all of my loot

He played mysterious music that still haunts the ears

It crept slowly from the speakers, stabbing like spears

I thought I had the game won

Before it was all said and done

But we began to talk semantics

We all thought it was ambiguously fantastic

It was all quite merry until our words lost all meaning

It left me fumbling my memories in search of feelings

It was something right out of ancient mythology

When he taught me a thing or two about reverse-reverse psychology

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

On My Knees in the Grove

My Lord, My Lord!

Oh how I crave nothing more than death!

Nothing more than dreamless sleep!

I hate to live, my breathing is nothing but gasps for air.

As I drown in my hatred for you, my dear Creator.

What have you done, I ask you. For you said to me in your Word

That you knitted me together in my mother’s womb

Had you not known God?

Had you known you were creating a lying, evil, hateful soul

Something full of more evil than you could have possibly conceived of yourself

Bitterness! Bitterness! Oh it’s beyond bitterness!

It’s nothing more than a hate darker and deeper than caverns into the ninth layer of Hell

In the very center of Satan’s mouth do I feel my insides being chewed and spitted out

To my death I smoke and drink and pray for a sign that death is near

Here I have found myself…

I have come to your grove to kneel at your cross where you killed your Son for me

Yet you no longer love me so I feel that I cannot love you

All of this you have known, Glorious One

Why have you done nothing to prevent this disaster?

Extinguish my soul God, expose the innards, and leave a meaningless pile of flesh to be consumed by vultures and clowns laughing as if stricken by a contagious mania

Feel my pain, my Lord! Suffer with me!

You know physical pain yet you know nothing of the anguish of guilt and hatred harbored deep within a barely living consciousness, a consciousness that craves nothing but to make others feel my suffering

Smiling children do not make me happy

The birds chirping in the morning do not make me smile

I am a boiling pot of jealousy, more than you will ever know

I pray this prayer to you God in hope that you will know my suffering and why I crave your gift of death! Just end the story! End this novel that will be forgotten in the end with nothing to attain and nothing to prove

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Oh Most Holy Ineffable One

Oh, ineffable one!

Can you teach me to dance like those enthroned on lotus petals?

Oh, most content one!

I’m weary and morose and I seek comfort in your wisdom!

Oh, most magnanimous one!

Can you teach me to rise above my pettiness and be seated among the sages?

Oh, most munificent one!

Can you cure my most horrendous of proclivities, my hoarding of green paper?

Oh, most effulgent one!

I seek to bask in your glow as the lizards on the rocks before the noonday sun

I’m a seeker of truth and have performed a vivisection on my life

I’ve been lead astray, deep into the numinous forest by the sneaky shepherd

Only for my soul to sink into its own depths of sorrow, for I am most unworthy

Oh, Most Righteous One!

I’ve been aberrant in my ways and I’ve heard your admonitions in the sibilant sounds of serpents.

I’m a seeker of pearls and the greatest of which is your most Heavenly Kingdom

The quintessence of my sins is my belief that I could have lived without your guidance

How naïve and absurd! Surely I’ve been lied to by Zarathustra!

My lips have spilled Your illustrious name in arrogance as a blasphemy upon a blasphemy!

Oh, Most Inexorable One!

Can you teach me to be as sturdy as a mountain in the face of adversity?

Oh, Most Holy Ineffable One!

I cannot play the façade of a henotheist any longer!

I must become an anvil to bear the blows of asceticism before I can become a stylite!

To you I must sacrifice it all!

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Morning Snow

As I plant my foot into the fresh, virgin snow

The thinking and pondering leaves me

With eyes full of white bliss

And ears full of the songs of birds

As I walk, the air is open and free

I breathe in my imperfections and exhale my cares

Icy wind nibbles at my ears playfully

There is a game we play with nature

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Money

shiny things, shiny things

gonna buy a whole

lotta things

green paper, fancy paper

save it up

make me safer

the day will come

when all stores will close

and all your savings

you’ll come to loathe

piles of paper, lying around

pleasing to the eye, you once found

serving no purpose

but fueling the serpent

the devil loves

your greedy ways

and in the end

you’ll have Hell to pay

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Insanity

I can say I’ve seen insanity

My ears perked up at the words

trembling prophet

I’ve seen the species of God manifest

The source of wisdom for

ancient Mayans; spiritual quests

of the mind; the drug salvia from which

I can say I’ve seen insanity

Floating orbs of purple and gray

above my eyes hang menacingly

whispering you will be a prophet

my ears perked up at the words

At the Funeral of God I see

myself slain before the masses

who cry, burn him, burn

the last trembling prophet.

In a vision I’ve seen the

letters H E scribbled on the wall unfinished

Heaven or Hell will be the domain

of the species of God manifest

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout                                                                                                                                

I Was There

I was with Arjuna on the battlefield

To hear Lord Krishna expound his wisdom

I sat with Siddhartha under the Bodhi tree

Dodging arrows shot by the King of Demons

I watched as Abraham placed Isaac on the alter

And witnessed the grace of God unfold

I worshipped the golden calf

And saw the tablets shattered

I was there at the crucifixion of my Savior

And felt the blood and water pour onto my face

I cut off my eyelids and meditated with Bodhidarma

And pierced a hole through the cave wall

I was carried up to the third heaven

When Saul became Paul

I’ve sat with Guru Nanak

To hear him elaborate on the numinous

I traveled with Muhammad

To hear the words of Allah uttered by Gabriel

I’ve sat, I’ve questioned, I’ve wondered

I’ve remembered, I’ve forgotten, I’ve pondered

I’ve cried for you God

I’ve lied to you God

I’ve longed for you God

I’ve died for you God

Solitary tears have streamed down my face

In holy contrition

I’ve quirked a wicked smile

In devilish pride

All ten thousand things proceed from You

And to you they will all return

And for all of this just to hear the one voice speaking through the masses

“Do what you know is righteous.”

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Have I Been Asleep For So Long?

Where have I come from and what did I do while I was there?

What was I thinking just sitting with that blank stare?

Was I seeking to transcend the very nature of my very soul?

To believe in the impossible? To honor the statue of the seated one?

Have I been implanting memories tracing back to the very beginning?

Have I been dreaming vivid dreams to walk away with slivers of time?

My delusions have evolved; my circumstances have changed.

I progress to where I’m pulled, I release from the forces which push.

I drift aimlessly; cold and intoxicated I lull around, hopeless and lonely.

I’ve become supine and indifferent; I can speak listlessly as languid language spills out of my mouth, yet I can’t speak the definition of “knowing”.

There are empty holes everywhere waiting to be filled.

As my mind deteriorates away into nothing.

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

Anhedonia

Stay with me for one more moment

Oh fleeting glimpses of forgotten pleasure

Fire doesn’t burn quite as hot here

Neither does the breeze cool you down

Hedonism lacks its impression

I want to leave this place

Where faces lose their once beautiful curvature

Where places are merely the same disgust in disguise

This calls for significant departure from everything that I am

When I can’t see past the surface of the haunting shallow eyes

Nothing is left but solipsism and God

A strange combination leading to the destruction of mind

I know who you are

You are nothing but my dreams

What has contaminated my mind to lead to this?

This is a strange reality, it is only black or white

I know why he hates the color gray in my dreams

I know why he wanders the world

Searching the dumpsters for food

Sleeping in the bone chilling snow

By: Jerry Benjamin Stout

I Laced Your Shit, Bro

The weather had been beyond bitterly freezing for that week. There were a few things that were on young Trent McKinley’s mind that week, also. Coincidentally, Trent’s mind was growing colder as the days passed slowly through the winter. They say that good people have quite the sense of right and wrong, while bad people hardly know about either. This was certainly the case with Trent. The white was becoming darker while the black was becoming lighter. They would soon meet somewhere in the middle. On a cold day nearing the middle of January, the school bell rang, signaling freedom for young Trent from the confines of high school. As Trent was walking from his last class through the halls to his locker, he was approached by one of his good friends Jacob.

            Hey Trent, I was wondering something…” said Jacob.

            “Oh, well, what is it?” he replied.

            “Well, it’s Friday today, and I was wondering if you wanted to come to Nathan’s party tonight. His parents are going to be gone all weekend. There’s going to be plenty of alcohol and weed to smoke and everything. There should be a lot of girls going too; I’m pretty fucking excited to tell the truth, everyone is. Do you want to go?”

            Trent, displaying a fair amount of reticence as usual, paused for quite some time. Finally, he broke the silence.

            “Look Jacob. It sounds pretty goddamn fun and everything; don’t get me wrong. But I just haven’t been in the mood lately for all that sort of garbage you guys like getting yourselves into. Spending all weekend getting fucked up isn’t really how I want to spend my life. Alright?”

            “Fine, be that way. But just for old time’s sake, why don’tcha come just this once. One more time. Seriously, be a pal. Besides, me, Troy, and Justyn all need a ride,” said Jacob.

            “Is that why you want me to go; because you need someone to haul you and your bastard friends around? My car isn’t a fucking taxi and you guys are hardly friends to begin with.”

            “Alright, alright, calm your ass down. If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. But I’m telling you right now; you’re missing out.”

            “Sonuvabitch, I’ll go. Christ,” said Trent becoming more agitated by the minute. He mostly decided to go just to end the conversation.

            “That’s what I like to hear, Trent! Expect a call from me around nine or so and me and the guys will be ready. Maybe we’ll have a blunt or something ready for a pre-party smoke.”

            “Sounds great…” said Trent sarcastically.

            Jacob walked off and Trent reached his locker. He was quite furious at this point. He had been trying to break away from his group of so-called friends for months now. It seemed the more he tried to push them away the more they tried to run his life. Trent was currently failing two of his subjects in school, mostly due to his drug use. He was making the effort to change, but failing miserably every time he was faced with temptation.

            Trent opened his locker, stuffed the books he needed for the weekend in his backpack, and slung the backpack over his shoulders. He began to march through the hallways to the door that leads out into the parking lot when he spotted Brittany Jaeger chatting with her boyfriend, Travis, at the edge of the door. Trent had a massive crush on Brittany; he had ever since they became friends in middle school. But she had always been “too good” for him according to everyone’s opinion. It was infuriating. He hated her friends, he hated her boyfriend, and was beginning to develop ambivalent feelings toward Brittany for taking less and less notice of him as the high school years passed.

            One of Trent’s many proclivities was to assume that people were plotting against him. However, what never occurred to him was how irrational the plots were. He believed people planned on ways to humiliate him in front of everyone. He started to believe that Brittany and her boyfriend may be on to something that he was unaware of. His incessant paranoia seemed to have no end and was akin to a festering wound inside his mind growing worse and worse.

            He took his eyes off Brittany in an instant as he saw her boyfriend starting to look in his direction. He was nearing the doors to the school and was preparing himself for the bitterly cold winter wind that was blowing outside. He opened the door and immediately felt the icy wind bite at his face and hands. The sidewalk was slick from a previous ice storm and he had to make an extra effort to keep his balance.

            “Stupid fucking winter…” muttered Trent under his breath. He sincerely loathed winter.

            He reached his car and tried starting it up. It sputtered a little bit as he egged it on whispering “come on, come on.” Eventually, his car pulled through and it started up. He backed out of his parking space and started on his drive home. He hooked up his mp3 player to the speakers and began to play his typical death metal that he enjoyed so much. His friends enjoyed rap music mostly, but not him. He liked his music to sound like it was straight from Hell.

            He drove the twenty blocks or so that it took to reach his house. He pulled up into the driveway and turned off his car. While walking towards the steps to his house a horribly cold blast of icy wind blew causing Trent to curse at the weather. While walking up the steps his right foot hit a very slippery portion of the step and he slipped forward slamming his shins on the edge of the next step.

            “Shit…..goddamnit,” he said becoming even more furious.

            He opened the door to the house to find his step mom Nancy whipping up some food in the kitchen. Trent and Nancy despised one another with a deep-seated hatred. They couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with one another. When Nancy saw Trent come into the house she slammed one of the cupboards. That just made Trent even angrier, making him slam the door to his room when he reached it. Upon entering his room, Trent just plopped down on his bed. He was exhausted from a week’s worth of school. He didn’t feel like going to that party tonight. He didn’t feel like seeing anyone. He was tired of everyone. He was tired of life.
            Before taking a nap Trent got up and went to his dresser. He pulled out the bottom drawer and took out his Browning Hi-Power 9mm pistol. He gave it the eye; carefully looking it over for a few moments. Then he jokingly aimed it at his temple and squeezed his eyes shut like he was about to kill himself. Then he pretended to pull the trigger and threw his head to the side while saying “bang”. Then he looked up at the ceiling and said to God, “I know that’s not what you want there God. You know when I’m only kidding.” He put the gun back then threw himself back down on the bed for a good nap.

            Before long, Trent was awoken by a voice shouting from upstairs.

            “Trent! Phone!” shouted his stepmom as if she was angry with him for something.
            He opened his eyes, and without saying anything, walked upstairs and picked up the phone off of the floor where his step mom had left it.

            “Hello?”

            “Trent, what’s up man? It’s Jacob.”

            “Nothing. Just sleeping. What do you want?”

            “The party man! Did you forget you idiot? Nathan’s party?”

            “Yeah, that’s right. I’ll get ready and I’ll come pick you and everyone else up.”

            “What time?”

            Trent looked at the clock. It was around eight thirty.

            “Give me ‘til nine and I’ll be there.”

            “Alright,” replied Jacob and hung up the phone.

            “…..fuck….” sighed Trent as he tossed the phone onto his bed. He did not want to go to this party.

            Trent changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and splashed some cold water on his face to wake himself up. He put on his big, warm winter coat. And just as he was about to head outside, he looked over at his dresser. “Just in case something goes down,” he thought to himself. He walked over to his dresser, pulled out his gun, and slipped it into his pants.

            He walked back out into the winter weather in a somewhat better mood. He felt slightly refreshed from his nap, but still wasn’t in the best of spirits. He still felt a fair amount of the stereotypical teenage angst swell up within himself. However, with Trent all things were black and white. Whenever something was a certain way, it was that way to that extreme. When he was filled with angst, he was filled to the rim. He either is all the way or not at all.

            He got into his car and started it up with a little less difficulty than the time before. He drove to Jacob’s house first. When he arrived at his house he honked his horn and waited for a few moments until Jacob came out of his house.

            “What the hell is up Trent? Are you ready for this?”

            “I guess so. Have you talked to anyone else?”

            “Yeah. Justyn’s ready, so we should go there next. I also talked to Troy and he said he would be ready in a minute. He said he had something for you.”

            “What is it?”

            “Hell if I know, man,” he said. “But let’s get going, quick.”

            They drove away.

            “Goddamnit it’s cold! Do we have to listen to this devil music shit all the time in your car Trent?” stammered Jacob.

            “It’s my car you piece of shit. My car, my music.”

            “You’re a weird kid, you know it?”

            “I guess.”

            They eventually pulled up to Justyn’s house. Of all people, Trent despised Justyn the most. He honked his horn and Justyn eventually came out and hurried into the car. The car was beginning to warm up by now.

            “Damn you guys, it’s fucking freezing out there!” said Justyn as he slammed his door. “So how’s my favorite fucking faggot doing?” Justyn reached up to the front seat from behind and slapped Trent on each side of his face a few times.

            “Cut it out, wouldja. What’s your problem?”
            “I ain’t got a problem. Shit.”

            They drove away from Justyn’s and then headed to Troy’s house. Just as they did before, they parked outside, honked the horn, and waited. Before long, Troy came out of the house carrying a few sodas. Troy hopped into the car with everyone else.

            “Hey Trent, you want a soda man?”

            “Sure, I guess,” he said.

            Troy handed him a bottle of Mountain Dew that already had a few sips taken out of it.

            “Did you drink some of this?” he asked.

            “Yeah, just a little. I was fuckin’ thirsty, man,” he said.

            “Alright,” Trent said and laughed a very dry laugh. He then took a few swigs from the bottle. Also, Troy seemed to have forgotten to mention, perhaps intentionally, that he had dissolved a sugar cube laced with L.S.D. into the bottle several minutes before hand.

            They started driving away when Troy then pulled out a blunt for them to smoke. He lit it up and began to pass it around the car. Eventually it came to Trent.

            “Guys, I’ve decided that tonight is going to be my last night doing the party thing, alright? So after tonight, don’t call me, invite me anywhere, or anything. I just don’t give a shit. I need to focus on school or I’m screwed, okay.”

            Trent hit the blunt a few times and then passed it.

            “You say that all the goddamn time. I doubt it’s any different tonight. But if that’s what you want, whatever,” said Troy.

            “You guys just don’t understand. I can’t keep doing this. I have to get my life straightened out, so tonight is it. Just forget about me, alright?”

            They continued to drive in silence for some time. Trent was feeling quite the buzz from the blunt they had smoked. After some time, they then pulled into Nathan’s driveway. He immediately noticed Brittany’s boyfriend’s car there. He could feel the gun pressing against his stomach.

            They all piled out of the car and went up to the house. Jacob rang the door bell and eventually Nathan came to the door. The truth about Nathan was that he really wasn’t the partying type. However, people had heard that his parents were leaving town and they kind of talked him into the whole ordeal. Nathan wasn’t too thrilled about the idea either like Trent, but he went along with it.

            There were so many people at the party that everybody started to go their own separate way. Mainly they each noticed a particular attractive girl and focused their attention on having sex with her by the end of the night; a chore they would have to start on early in the night. Trent, feeling the vertigo of the marijuana he smoked on the way there wandered about the place. He really didn’t know that many people there so he simply walked about pretending as if he was taking care of some sort of business. He did this for about a half hour or so.

            Then he went to watch everyone do body shots off of girls in the kitchen and then went to watch people do keg stands in the den. He would have liked to have had a nice seat in the hot tub but that was only for “special guests” (people wearing wrist bands who had supplied the alcohol for the party by stealing bottles and paying for the keg with a fake I.D.).

            Then it started to happen. Trent blacked out for awhile. He was still conscious, but was somehow unaware of what he was doing; as if he was in some sort of surreal dream. Eventually he came out of it. He was sitting on the couch in the den when his mind finally returned to his body. His first thoughts were “where am I and what am I doing?” He looked around and everything appeared to be a little bit brighter. The outlines of objects were jumping around and changing colors and everything appeared to be a little bit less solid. Things appeared ephemeral and shapeless. Things were strange. He didn’t know what was going on. He was in a somewhat mild state of terror for a short period of time.

            He then began to pass into a phase where everything he thought about would instantly spark a higher, more profound thought. His mind was ceaselessly linking one thought with this or that in what seemed to be an endless chain of understanding. However, his thoughts quickly took a turn for the worst. He became paranoid by all the people who were there; he felt they were all analyzing his every move. He became depressed, and then angry, and then worried, and then felt such a strange combination of emotions that there is really no way he could explain it. He needed to know what was happening.

            “Oh my God, what’s happening,” he said very loudly.

            A kid he knew named Ryan looked over at him.

            “What?” asked Ryan.

            “I’m tripping balls. Holy shit. I’ve got to go.”

            Ryan just stared at him bewildered. He had no idea what he was talking about. Trent got up from the couch and walked through the mass of people, disoriented and confused, trying to find Jacob, Troy, and Justyn. One of them had to explain to him what was happening. He didn’t know if the world was supposed to be swirling around him at such a ridiculous pace and changing colors the way it was. He was in a truly awful state of mind.

            Eventually Trent found his way downstairs. People kept trying to say “Hello” to him but he would either say “I’m tripping I can’t talk” in a voice that could only be half-way made out or he would completely ignore them. When he went downstairs he began to check all the rooms. Nathan was apparently furious at everyone for smoking marijuana down there.

            “I’m going to be in so much trouble! My parents are going to smell that shit! Knock it off, wouldja?” shouted Nathan.

            Everyone only laughed at Nathan. The party was too out of control at this point. The house was beyond packed and everyone had to shout over all the noise of the drunkenness.

            “Nathan! Have you seen Jacob or Troy?” said Trent. “Seriously, I can’t find them.”

            “Dude, you don’t look so good…” said Nathan.

            “Yeah, but have you seen them?”

            “Uh, I think Troy is in one of these rooms down here,” he said with a questionable tone of voice.

            “Okay.”

            Trent continued to wander around bewildered until he eventually found Troy talking to some girl downstairs in one of the bedrooms.

            “Troy! Holy shit! What’s happening? Everything is crazy looking and shaking around. I don’t know what the hell is going on. You gotta help me man!” shouted Trent.    

            Troy laughed uproariously when he took a good look at Trent then said, “You’re just trippin’, I laced your shit, bro.”

            “You what?”

            “Your soda, man. I put some shit in there for ya’ that I thought you might like.”

            “What? What the fuck, man? What the Hell did you put in there?”

            “Don’t worry about it. If you can’t take it, just go lay down on the couch or something.”

            “What’s wrong with him?” said the girl.

            “Nothing, he’s just fucked up,” said Troy to the girl while turning to Trent. “Now get out of here and give me and her some space.”

            Trent walked back upstairs and went back to the den to lie down on the couch. Luckily there were only a few people in there at the time. He had a seat and slouched down and closed his eyes. He had never felt this way before in his entire life. He didn’t know what to do except just remain motionless. Pretty soon Brittany and a few of her gal pals came in and had a seat on the couches.

            Trent, hearing their chatter, opened his eyes. He was beyond intoxicated at this point in time and had no control over what he was saying or doing. When he opened his eyes, he just happened to see Brittany sitting on the couch next to him along with a few of her girlfriends. He sat up and looked around.

            “Are you alright there, Trent?” said Sarah, one of the girls.

            He ignored her and turned to Brittany.

            “Brittany! I’m so happy to see you,” said Trent.

            “….okay…” she said, looking over.

            “I need to tell you this. I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the whole world. I mean it. I really mean it,” said Trent in a barely discernable voice. All she could really make out was “beautiful girl”.

            “Oh, well that’s nice,” she said turning towards Sarah.

            “What’s wrong with him?” Sarah said.

            “I don’t know, I think he’s just really, really drunk. Maybe high, hell if I know what kinda drugs he does these days,” Brittany said.

            Then Trent tried to put his arms around Brittany and just let his head fall lifeless into her lap. Suddenly, he vomited everywhere; all over her jeans and the floor.

            “Ewwwwww!” shouted Brittany. “Get off of me you creep!”

            Travis then heard his girlfriend scream from the other room and came running in the den to see Trent trying to regain his composure while Brittany was jumping up and down trying to be calmed down by her friends.

            “He puked on me! I can’t believe it! He puked on me!”

            Trent stood up still feeling delirious and was met by the furious face of Brittany’s boyfriend Travis who was quite a bit taller and stronger than Trent.

            “What the fuck is your problem you little faggot?” shouted Travis.

            “You’re a faggot you piece of shit. You think you can just steal Brittany from me? She was my friend before she even knew you. Who the fuck do you think you are? Just because you’re some big basketball guy you think you can do whatever the fuck you want. You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” shouted Trent at the top of his lungs.

            Travis became red in the face and absolutely furious. He lunged forward and punched Trent square in the face. Trent fell back into the couch. He then felt under his jacket for his 9mm pistol. He grabbed a hold of it and pulled it out and pointed it at Travis. Brittany screamed and Travis reacted by putting his hands up in the air.

            “Look man, it’s cool, just chill out,” said Travis. “I’m sorry man, it’s cool. Just put the gun down and I’ll help you up.”

            “No, it’s not cool,” said Trent rather quietly.

            Trent shot him twice. Once in the chest and once in the head. He fell down to the ground in a pool of blood. Then he turned and looked at Brittany who was screaming “Oh my God! Oh my God” in terror with her hands over her mouth. Everyone else was screaming as well. Brittany then looked over at Trent.

            “Good bye,” he said and pressed the barrel against his temple and pulled the trigger.

           

            

The Daybreak Train

I had been staying with my friend Alex in this dilapidated trailer along the railroad tracks on the toxic waste part of town for some time now. It hasn’t been horrible, to be honest. The place is like a nook, on the very edge of town where no one goes. The days followed a simple formula. If it was a week day, Alex and his roommate Duff would wake up early, like, gosh, 5:30 in the damn morning to go to work. There was always a train that would come right by the trailer about that time in the morning and wake them up; and me, unfortunately. I didn’t have a job; I would be moving in less than two weeks so it would be rather pointless to be employed. After they would get off work, we would hopefully have money for cigarettes and booze, and maybe some other drugs, and with whatever money we had left we would buy some food.

            In the day time it wasn’t so bad. It was hardly ever bad in the day time; hell, maybe even enjoyable. But, spending the whole goddamn day by yourself in that trailer, while everyone’s at work, can make you all sorts of lonely. It starts to feel like not only is there not a soul in the damn place, but there ain’t a soul anywhere! It’s terrible, really. Jeez, I did some nutty things for company sitting in that trailer. I’d look through the yellow pages and dial all sorts of numbers. I used to love to call Summer Street Gym. I always talked to either “Rock Hard Rob” or “Benching Bob”. It’s kind of funny, all Rock Hard Rob ever talked about was how much he could bench, and Benching Bob never mentioned it. Bob preferred the lat pulldown. I told them I was 98 lbs. and wanted to mainly work on my pecs and biceps. That all probably just sounds ridiculous. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to, like if you get a thought in your head and you really want someone else’s opinion, just to make sure you haven’t been getting a bit nutty.

            I would sometimes walk across the trailer park and talk to Beetle. Beetle really isn’t such a bad guy at all, but goodness gracious he sure isn’t attractive. He’s always drinking these giant cans of beer; 32 ounces of Miller High Life. He says he likes to drink those rather than buying cases of beer all the time. He says he is trying to “cut back a little”. According to him, the larger can makes him think he is drinking more than he really is. Duff will always refer to Beetle’s idea as “very Freudian”. Gosh, he’s an idiot. But, believe it or not, Beetle’s idea caught on, actually. From time to time, we’ll walk to the gas station and get the “Beetle special”; where everyone gets two 32 oz. cans of Miller High Life. It’s terrible, really.

            Anyway, it was a Friday night and no one seemed to have anything to do tomorrow at all. We had quite a bit of dough, too. Usually there isn’t much money around, but that night we had plenty. We bought some alcohol, called “Southern Homestyle” or something like that. It was a cheap rip-off from Southern Comfort, but the bottle was 100 proof and only eight dollars. I remember Trevor was there. All the way back from the Liquor Store he kept talking about how the bottle was “such a steal” and us “getting the bang for our back”. Christ Almighty, you should have heard him. I thought he would never shut up about the whole thing.

            We arrived back at the house.

            “Alex, let me see the keys,” Duff said.

            “Here,” Alex said butting through and unlocking the door himself.

            Jesus, it was cold in there.

            “Man, guys, we really made the most out of our money,” Trevor said.

            God, I really wish he would just shut up about it.

            “I mean, we practically robbed them,” he said again.

            “Trevor! Would you just shut up about it…goddamn,” I said.

            “I’m just sayin’. Shit,” he said.

            We started pouring everyone a glass. We decided to mix it with Cherry Coke. Every time Alex had SoCo and Coke or Pepsi in the past he always thought it tasted like Cherry Coke. It turned out to be a really good idea. Everyone mixed their drinks and we started sitting around, chatting about all sorts of things.

            “Sierra and Paige might come over tonight,” Duff said.

            “Gosh, Sierra really has gained an awful amount of weight, hasn’t she,” I said.

            “When was the last time you’ve seen her?”

            “A couple weeks ago, when they were both over here.”

            “No. That wasn’t Sierra. You’re thinking about Paige. Paige is the fat one.”

            “Yeah, but, gosh, she really is a fat cunt isn’t she?” I said.

            He laughed a little bit and kind of nodded.

            “Man, I’m really in the mode to smoke or trip or something,” I said. I guess, I should explain. Me and my friends stopped saying “in the mood”, it just sounds far too homoerotic. We started saying “in the mode” instead. Because “in the mode” just sounds so much better, kind of like what a battle droid might say.

            “Eli, you really are some kind of drug addict, you know it,” Alex said.

            “No. Not at all, really. I just haven’t smoked in awhile,” I said.

            “Well, Sierra might be bringing weed,” Duff said.

            “Aw, she’d be a true hero wouldn’t she?”

            “Sure. Sure she would be,” Duff replied.

            “I actually have an idea,” I said. “Duff, have you ever done DXM…robotripping?”

            “Nope,” he said. “Why, do you have some?”

            “No, but I can get some. Easy,” I said.

            “Will it get me fucked up?” Duff questioned.

            “Oh sure. Things will jump around and turn colors. It can be wild,” I said.

            “Well, get me some. If it’ll do the trick,” he said.

            We sat around some more. We were getting pretty buzzed after awhile. Every time Alex gets drunk he gets this glossy-eyed expression and this horrible shit-eating grin. He looks like a classic abusive husband. I mean, Christ, after looking at that expression on his face I wanted to start doing some goddamn dishes. Duff always gets belligerent drunk. Trevor turns into a moron. He started talking to me about how “theoretically possible” the hyperbolic time chamber in Dragonball Z is. All you have to do is put dark energy generators in the walls, and build the whole thing out of anti-matter, and, according to him, it is “perfectly plausible.”

            “It’s because space time is a fabric,” he said. “That’s the key right there. It wouldn’t work unless time was a fabric.”

            Gosh it’d make you sick, I bet. I stopped listening to Trevor and turned an ear towards the conversation between Alex and Duff.

            “I was thinking, Duff. Well, when we were at work the other day, that girl with the leathery skin. Christ, what was her name. Cassie, or something. But she breaks right down, balling her eyes out.”

            “Yeah, she’s new, I know,” Duff said.

            “Well, that’s not it. I hear her crying and all I can think is ‘shut up so I can do my work, for chrissake…’”

            “So?”

            “It’s just that, is it really, I don’t know, natural, to be so incredibly jaded at such a young age?” he said lighting up a cigarette. “I’m only in my early twenties, and to be completely honest, most people make me sick half the time. Everyone just always has that same look on their face, and they pronounce their words so goddamn intensely, like time is slowing down or something.”

            “What?” I said.

            He looked over and blew his smoke in my face.

            “Honestly, it’s hard to explain. But, really, does that sound a bit too jaded to you?”

            “I wouldn’t worry about it. Hell, it sounds normal to me,” I said. I then turned to Duff, who was just kind of looking around.

            “Duff,” I said.

            “What?”

            “Why did you invite Sierra and Paige? It’s kind of irresponsible if you ask me.”

            “Irresponsible? Why?”

            “Well, first of all. Every time I listen to Sierra talk, it’s just painful. It’s not really the things she says, it’s just the way she says them. That’s what always gets me.”

            “That’s all in your head. She’s not so bad. And besides, she’s bringing weed.”

            “Great. That’s great about the weed. But still, don’t lie to yourself. You know it’s dreadful. She just talks like she’s embarrassed; she sounds like she’s a young girl having to tell her parents that she’s pregnant.”

            Duff cracked a smile, and then went back to concentrating on his drink. The alcohol was going pretty fast. Then, speak of the devil, Sierra and Paige burst in the door.

            “Hey everyone!” Sierra said. Paige didn’t say anything, she just moped around the place.

            They both had a seat and got somewhat comfortable. To be honest, the trailer could be kind of cozy from time to time. Sierra and Paige had brought a cooler with a few beers. I really wanted to know if they brought marijuana, but really didn’t want to ask. But, then again, alcohol does a number on your inhibitions.

            “Sierra. Did you bring any green?”

            “Fuck, Eli! I just walk in the fucking door and that’s the first thing you ask me?”

            Ugh, I could have been sick right there. Sierra seemed to be in that high school phase in which you say the F word all the time. It’s not funny or impressive, or anything really. The F word should be strictly limited to Samuel L. Jackson, pornography, and that one overly dramatic scene in every PG-13 movie. Any more than that and it can be just unbearable.

            Well, anyway, we all sat around drinking for quite some time. We were all getting pretty drunk. I remember I was drunk enough to handle this god awful music coming out of the speakers. Sierra habitually insists on playing this C.D. full of these rancid songs. It always sounds like the same guy, some very smooth black guy with this creamy voice. Gosh, all I can think about when I hear this music is bathroom product commercials. I remember Alex was getting drunk faster than anyone else. I looked over at him, and he had that same shit-eating grin I was telling you about. I was a bit worried.

            “Eli, tell me if I’m wrong,” he said.

            “What’s that?” I said.

            “I’m sensing a bit of hostility between you and me. What do you think?”

            “You really think so?”

            He got that smile on his face again and looked over at Paige.

            “Hey Paige,” Alex said.

            “Yeah?”

            “Earlier today, you know what Eli said?”

            For the love of God. I really wish he wouldn’t have said this.

            “What did he say?”

            “He said you’re a fat cunt. Exact words.”

            Well, I did say that. But, God, did he really have to say that?

            “Alex, you’re trashed,” she said. “And, Eli, if you really did say that, fuck you.”

            I guess that blew over without too much trouble. We kept just sitting around, drinking. It wasn’t really much of a party. I didn’t want to drink too much because of my sleep walking problem. When I drink too much I have a horrible habit of walking around, sometimes outside. I’ve even woken up outside once or twice in someone’s lawn. It’s very strange, I know. While I was sitting there, I remembered my idea about robotripping. I hadn’t robotripped in awhile, and Duff said he wanted to do it. The only person there with a car was Sierra, and I thought that maybe she would give me a ride to the store so I could run in and get some for me and Duff.

            “Hey Sierra, do me this favor, wouldja?”

            “What? What’s that?”

            “Well, I need a ride to Hy-Vee. I just got to pick something up. It’ll take maybe half a minute, in all honesty.”

            “Well, hold on, at least. Just let me finish this beer.”

            “Alright.”

            We sat around for what seemed like forever. Sierra was casually sipping on her beer. Trevor was the only one who really kept talking. It could really get old after awhile. He kept talking about the “implications” of being a multi-cellular organism. Trevor really thought he was a high-class philosopher.

            “It’s just amazing to think about,” he said. “It’s almost as if you aren’t just one being, but thousands of organisms, all trying to cooperate the best they can to create you, a multi-cellular organism.”

            Gosh, I really was hoping Sierra would finish her beer.

            “Hey Sierra, you about ready to go?”

            “Yeah, just a minute.”

            I waited for much longer than a minute. I spent a few moments counting all my money. I really didn’t have much, only about four dollars. I wasn’t sure how much it would be, but I would make it work.

            “Alright, Eli, let’s go,” she said.

            I didn’t say anything, but got up and went out the door. It really was terribly freezing outside. You could see the moon slipping through holes in the cloud cover every now and then. To be honest, as much as I hate to say this, it seemed a bit ominous. I hopped in the car and Sierra got in her side. She sat there for a moment with this expression on her face; she looked confused.

            “Fuck, I forgot my C.D.” she said. She kept sitting there, with that look on her face.

            I was really hoping she wasn’t going to go inside and get that C.D.

            “I’ll be right back, I have to go get my C.D.”

            I sat in her car and couldn’t help but snoop around a little bit. I saw some change in between the seats and thought I might need a little extra, so I took it. I also saw a bag of skittles. The bag was more than half empty, and strangely enough there were only red and purple skittles in the bag. Sierra then came back outside and got in the car. She turned the key and immediately put the C.D. in and turned up the music.

            I really didn’t say much at all for the beginning of the ride. This music was just terrible. I was becoming so frustrated listening to it that all I did was stare out the window biting my nails furiously. It was terrible.

            “Would you stop doing that! It’s a really bad habit,” Sierra said.

            “Well, maybe if you’d stop being such a codependent enabler!” I said.

            “A what?”

            “This music!”

            “What’s wrong with my music? This is what everyone listens to,” she said.

            I stopped biting my nails so she wouldn’t mention it anymore. The car ride seemed to last forever, even though it was only several blocks. Eventually we pulled into the parking lot and I went inside. I made a right and walked down the aisle very naturally. If I didn’t have enough money I would have to steal them. I found the medicine aisle and started browsing. Usually, when I would robotrip in the past, I would drink Robotussin. This time, though, I thought I might get triple C’s, the pills, since I had already been drinking. I looked around and started to feel kind of nervous, like I was being watched. I found the Coricidan Capsules I was looking for and I really didn’t have enough money for two at all. It’s always a silly idea to buy something and steal something at the same time, so I would have to steal both. I grabbed two boxes and briskly walked through a couple aisles, looking around at all the products as if I was going to buy something else. I then turned around after I slipped the boxes into my pants and walked right out.

Gosh, it was really terrible walking out of that store. There was this very goofy kid eyeballing me the entire time. It was really unsettling, but I made it out of the store and got back in Sierra’s car.

            “What did you have to get?” she asked pulling out.

            “These,” I said lifting up my shirt and taking out the boxes.

            “Jesus Christ, you stole them! What are they?”

            “Triple C’s, they make you trip,” I said.

            “Oh my God, Eli, you’re an ass. Now I’m an accomplice,” she said.

            I didn’t say another goddamn word the entire drive back to the trailer. It really was a horrible car ride; Sierra kept playing the same song over and over again. Every time it would get to this part where the tempo would change and this girl would start singing, she would push a button and the song would start over. It’s just not something I want to talk about, to be honest. But then we arrived at the trailer.

            I walked inside and had a seat next to Duff. Sierra immediately started ranting to her friend Paige about how what I did was such an “immature crime”. Also, Duff’s girlfriend Sara had showed up while we were gone. Sara is actually very cool. Sara is very real; she just isn’t the type to lie to you or exaggerate a story or anything like that. I tossed the boxes on the table and Duff took a look at them.

            “Well, Duff, here’s what we do. I take every pill in this box and you take every pill in your box. It’ll be fantastic, honestly,” I said.

            “Don’t do it, Duff,” Sierra said. “You know it’s a bad idea.”

            God, she can really be the goddamn maternal figure sometimes.

            “Don’t listen to her, Duff. I do it all the time and it’s always fun,” I said.

            “Alright, let me get something more to drink and I’ll start taking them,” he said. “Sierra, why don’t you toss me a beer?”

            “Duff, I really wish you wouldn’t. It’s just a bad idea,” she said. I thought it was kind of funny that she was perfectly fine with me taking the pills. Sierra handed him a beer and he cracked it open. We both opened the boxes of pills. They were these large, reddish brown pills.

            “Well, Duff, you should take every pill in the box. It takes at least fifteen to really trip, and twenty will really do the trick,” I said. I was being very sincere; it really was terrible.

            “Give me these fuckers,” he said. He started taking the pills, drowning them with the beer. I decided to start taking mine, as well. Although I wasn’t going to take the whole box, I decided to take only about eight of them. To be honest, I really had no idea how many it would take to trip, but I thought I should play it safe.

            We sat around for some time longer, just drinking. We played some drinking games like “Circle of Death” and “Fuck the Dealer”. They played “Fuck the Dealer” completely wrong. I tried correcting them like a jackass, but they insisted my way was just plain stupid. Duff looked over at me.

            “Did you take all your pills?” he questioned.

            “Yep, every one of ‘em,” I replied. I still had twelve more in my pocket.

            “So how long does this take?” he asked again.

            “It can take longer than an hour, you just have to be patient,” I said.

            Thank God Alex changed the music. I could tell he was getting as frustrated as I was with Sierra’s C.D. But he didn’t really improve the situation much more. He started playing “Say Anything”, and I honestly don’t like that band very much. Honestly, though, it really is all my fault; my taste in music is just far too particular. Lately all I’ve been able to really stand is German rap and electronic music. But really, anything was better than “Lil’ Smooth”.

            Everyone in the trailer was actually getting rather rowdy and difficult to handle. Alex really seemed to have a comical problem with Sierra. He kept telling her over and over about how he didn’t like her face and he would give her a playful shove from time to time. It was about that time that Sierra decided to take out the marijuana.

            “So, you guys want to smoke?” she said.

            “Of course,” Duff said.

            She took out a bag of green and dumped it out on the table.

            “Eli, why don’t you see if the Coyote is under the couch,” Duff said looking at me.

            I felt under the couch, and sure enough there was our homemade steamroller under there. It’s a pretty long, thin steamroller made out of a white PVC pipe. It’s kind of funny, actually. We decided to turn this PVC pipe into a smoking device after we noticed that the manufacture date on the pipe was printed as “4/20/2007”. I really do hate to say this, but it was like it was “meant to be”. Sierra grabbed the Coyote and packed a bowl and lit it up. She passed to the left afterwards, following etiquette. Of course, I was to her right, so I naturally assumed she passed it to the left not to follow etiquette, but to piss me off by making me last in line.

            The night went on and on; we smoked and drank. About an hour passed and I was feeling very messed up. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or the DXM or the weed, but it was probably all of them. We eventually decided to watch a movie called “In Bruges”. Honestly, I can’t stand the vast majority of movies that are out there. But, I do really enjoy “In Bruges”. There is this one part when the main character is sitting on a bench, and his friend who has been ordered to kill him approaches him from behind, gun in hand. Then, the guy sitting on the bench takes out his own gun and puts it to his head. The guy behind him lets down his gun instantly and runs up to him. I mean, Christ, what does something like that say about the human psyche?

            Anyway, only about ten minutes after the movie started, I look over at Duff. He didn’t look too hot. His eyes were wide and he was just staring at the screen without blinking. Then all of the sudden he stands up and rushes into the bathroom. The next thing you hear is this terrible heaving and eventually vomit hitting the water. Everyone looked at me, like I was a crook.

            “Eli, what did you give him?” Sierra said.

            “Triple C’s. I took some too, he’ll be fine. Quit being such a stupid, crabby mom.”

            “I’ll go check on him,” Sara said and stood up. I really couldn’t help my curiosity; I just wanted to see the damage I had done. So I stood up and followed Sara into the bathroom. It really was pathetic. Duff had no shirt and was hugging the toilet with his eyes clearly out of focus, bulging out of his head. He seemed to be trying to say something but it was mostly incoherent babble. It sounded like he was trying to say, “Why did you do it?” All it really sounded like was “Wuddjadooit?” It really was a terrible scene in the bathroom.

            Pretty soon Sierra and Paige got really curious about what was happening and came to see. Duff had curled up into a ball on the floor, mumbling. Sierra was completely irate over the whole thing.

            “Eli, you fucker! This is all your fault!” she yelled.

            “Oh relax. That always happens. After you puke you start to trip, every time,” I said.

            “Well why aren’t you puking? I think you poisoned him!” she yelled again.

            “He probably just drank more than I did. That’s all,” I said. “He’ll be fine. DXM fucks you up hardcore.”

            Sara got him a pillow and a glass of water. Sierra told me that because it was my fault I would be the one that had to watch him all night and make sure he was okay. You might think that Sara would be the most upset with me, since she was his girlfriend and all. But Sara just really isn’t that type. She isn’t the type to bitch at you, even in a situation like this. She’ll just do what she can to make it better, without throwing more fuel on the fire. She must have tremendously good karma. But, Jesus, Sierra wouldn’t let it drop. She really did think I was heartless. Duff started trying to talk again.

            “Can, canja make it go away? Da puke, ugh, yuck,” he said and threw up all over the floor.

            “Once it’s all out of his system, we’ll move him to his room,” I said. “Sara why don’t you watch him, I’m missing the rest of “In Bruges”.”

            “Okay,” she said.

            We left Sara and Duff in the bathroom. From time to time you could hear these nasty, puking sounds coming down the hall. To be honest, it was really ruining the movie. Sierra would not shut up about the whole thing. By then I was feeling a bit off too. I’m not sure exactly what motivated me to do it, but I decided to take the rest of the pills I had in my pocket. I know, that really doesn’t make any sense at all. After seeing Duff in the bathroom you’d think I wouldn’t want to take as many as he took. I did anyway, though.

            “Let me see that box, Eli,” Sierra said. I tossed it over to her and she started reading everything it said. Something that seemed to slip past me was that on the front it said that these pills were good for high blood pressure.

            “Oh my God, Eli, these pills do something to blood pressure,” Sierra said.

            “So?”

            “Did you know Duff has blood pressure problems? Are you trying to fucking kill him?” she said, interrogating me.

            “Goddamn, Sierra. Firstly, I didn’t know any of that. You make it sound like I’m incredibly heartless. I just wanted Duff to have a good time and trip. I didn’t know this was going to happen at all. And besides, if it’s good for high blood pressure he should be completely cured after taking so many of ‘em, right?”

            I said that last bit jokingly of course. She didn’t think it was very funny.

            “That’s not how it works,” she said.

            I really just shut my mouth after that. I wanted to watch the rest of this movie and not think about what was going on. I lit up a cigarette. It was a menthol, which I usually don’t like. But for some odd reason, when I’m drunk, I really can enjoy a menthol. After the movie was over Duff was pretty much done puking, Alex was practically asleep on the couch, and Sierra and Paige decided to leave. It must have been about 3 or 3:30 in the morning. It was such a relief to have those two broads leave, as horrible as that sounds. I decided to go check out the mess in the bathroom.

            “My God, he sure is messed up, isn’t he?” I said.

            “Yeah…” Sara said. This whole thing was so depressing. I kind of started to feel bad for him, he was sleeping through his trip. I then decided that maybe me and Alex should move him to his room so he could just sleep it off. I went back into the living room and woke up Alex.

            “Yo, I need your help. We have to move Duff,” I said.

            He didn’t respond.

            “Alex! Wake up! We have to move Duff!”

            He still didn’t even move, so I went back into the bathroom.

            “Well, Alex is passed out, and I don’t know where Trevor went. Do you think me and you could move him?”

            “We can try,” she said.

            We tried to wake him up, so maybe he would be able to walk with us supporting him to his room.

            “Hey Duff! Me and Eli are going to move you to your room, okay? Do you think you can stand?”

            He made a gurgling sound and then said something about me, I’m not sure what he said. It sounded kind of like “Eli’s a shitbag”, but who knows. We tried a couple more times to wake him up, but he just kept lying there, gurgling. Then after awhile he just kept saying, “Leave me, leave me.” Sometimes he would mix it up and say, “I don’t wanna die, but you have to leave me.” It was honestly just plain disturbing.

            “Do you think we should just leave him?” I said.

            “Well, I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Sara said.

            “But he keeps saying, ‘leave me, leave me’. Maybe he just wants us to leave?”

            “I don’t know. You can leave, but I’m going to stay here,” she said.

            I left the bathroom and went back out to the living room. Alex was still passed out on the couch. I was really wanting to sleep on the couch, but I knew how extremely unpredictable Alex is when he’s drunk, so I didn’t want to risk it. Instead, I just grabbed a blanket and laid down on the floor. It was probably a little past 4 by then. I was starting to feel the second wave of those pills I took as I was laying there. To be honest, it was kind of frightening.

            As I was laying there, I could hear music playing. It was extremely faint, but I could have sworn I heard music playing. I was feeling more and more terrible the longer I laid there. All these little sounds were being amplified and nothing looked solid. The outlines of all the objects in the room were jumping around. My brain was taking this music and twisting it around and making it sound extremely eerie. Then all of the sudden it felt like I was paralyzed and couldn’t move. My eyes were still wide open though. I tried to look over at Alex, but he was gone.

            I started to have a meltdown. As my eyes scanned the room I could see these large bugs that looked like crickets crawling all over the floor and the walls. I was so scared that I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. My mouth just wouldn’t move, all I could do was lay there and make these croaking sounds. I then started to turn all these things over in my mind. Firstly, I thought about Duff and his blood pressure issues. I thought that maybe he was going to die and I would be convicted and put in prison for being so reckless.

            I could still hear that music. I’m not sure if it was getting louder or everything else was getting quieter, but I could hear it. It started to sound like a voice with all these buzzing noises underneath it. Gosh, it was terrifying. The bugs were still crawling all over the room and I could hear even more voices now. I really tried hard to not think about it, but I somehow knew that Duff was dead. I really had no idea how I was going to avoid prison. There were just too many people that knew about it, and if they were to disappear there would just be too much suspicion. I thought that I would be the one that would have to disappear. I decided I would have to become a drifter and get far away. It seemed like my only hope.

            I laid there for what seemed like days. I couldn’t stand to look at all the bugs; they were crawling in through the windows and out from under the couch and were walking all around me, but never came extremely close. Jesus, I had to get out of there. I was frozen though. And that music was still playing. It was nothing but these terrible buzzing sounds and these tiny voices talking to each other.

            My eyes were fixed on the windows. I kept waiting for that moment when the sky looks very dark blue rather than black. I would know it was morning when that train would come through. The horn on the train was so loud that it would always wake everyone up usually. But I still wanted to try and get some sleep before that train would come barreling through. I tried my hardest to forget about the bugs, and the music, and just shut my eyes and get some sleep. Eventually I seemed to drift off.

            I remember having these very strange dreams. I remember living with a community of monks in these very tall towers. They were so tall all you could see below them were clouds. All the monks there had taken an oath of silence, they swore to each other that they wouldn’t tell anyone. I remember in my dream I was somehow special to them, and they had to constantly carry me around. During the entire dream I remember being carried around from tower to tower. They eventually took me to this exceedingly tall tower and set me down and left me there.

Then I started to hear the train horn. It was terribly loud, but I was in such a deep sleep that the sound merely incorporated itself into my dream. As I laid there, it sounded like the train was coming directly towards me. I even tried to imagine the train heading directly for the trailer. I thought that if the train would crash through the trailer and kill everyone, there would be no way to blame me for Duff’s death. But, shit, that train horn was extremely loud now. I can’t remember what I was dreaming about, but hearing the train in my dream quickly became a reality.

           

*         *        *

            The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed. I looked down and below my knees my legs were gone. I immediately passed out. My friends had told the doctors that I had passed out on the railroad tracks after drinking too much. I’m not stupid, though. Karma’s a bitch, especially when people take it into their own hands.