edited 8/2
The sun is bright and blaring in my ears. I’m feeling fine. I’m feeling like I’ve never been more depressed in my life. I flick the switchblade and cut a piece of bark from the tree. The exertion is more than I can take. I puff my cigarette once and spit it onto the dead grass, watching it barely burn and fade into the damp air.
My best friend Sarah jumped from a rooftop alone. She had a needle in her arm. Her parents said she was better off dead. They didn’t have a corpse to bury.
Jenny says what is that. I say it’s bark from a tree and she says oh. I crush it between my fingers and watch the pieces fall. Jenny is not my friend. I met her a truck stop in Jersey. She gave sloppy head to dirty truckers. I told her she could come with us and she cried and slept in the van.
We’re in a forest and Christopher is stoned out of his mind. His eyes are rolling in the back of his head and he’s shaking. He’s shaking and I know he’s somewhere peaceful. Even if he dies, I know he’ll be somewhere peaceful. I don’t believe in Hell or Heaven. When we die, we go to a place in our brains where everything is fine and nothing can hurt us.
…It’s been three hours. Christopher is lying on the floor with a red bandanna over his mouth. He doesn't look as if he is registering anything around him. Jenny is trying to sleep but I know she’s more fucked up than Christopher is. She just doesn’t show it. Saliva is dripping from her mouth and I think about what her childhood was like. Her parents probably beat her. Somewhere down the line, her father must have molested her..
I feel sorry for us. I can’t concentrate long enough to remember what happened, what brought us to this point, but it makes me feel like there’s a hole in my heart that won’t heal no matter what I do.
Maybe nothing happened.
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