Things of Fiction Thursday #1: Keep Him Still

Keep Him Still
 
           He sat on his couch thinking the day over.  Perhaps it was worth it, he thought.  His eyes were glazing over as he watched reruns of Lost on Hulu.  With the small blunt in his hand and darkness surrounding him, he felt as if the rest of the world was sucked away, far away, where he would never have to encounter it again.  On the screen, Jack saved yet another life as he slowly inhaled the hot, harsh smoke.

            The days events were creeping on his conscience.  The look in their eyes, the shock in their face, the moment their bodies froze in time.  He didn’t want to think about it, but he did.  Fuck you Jack, he thought as he released the toxins from his lungs.  The darkness was developing a nice fog, helping his mind grow fuzzy and the voices in his head to muffle.  He closed his eyes and sunk into the sounds of water splashing, guns shooting, and attractive actors shouting with a false fear.  He could hear their rehearsed lines, feel the lack of truth in every sentence.

They don’t know fear, he thought, they have no idea.

            He set down the half cashed blunt with a tender hand, swirling his fingers around the strings of smoke dragging off the tip, the blue light of his computer giving the smoke a distinctly ghostly appearance.  He looked at his hand and felt his blood pulsating under the skin.  He could almost see the veins shining through his skin, a spider web of intermingled tubes.  His eyes narrowed on his wrists, the computer screen giving an extra ghoulish hue to his already pale skin.

How disgusting, he thought, I’m a sack of blood waiting to burst.  One poke, one slice, one stab and I become a leaky sink.  All it takes is one sliver.  A bread knife could even do the trick.  How useless is skin that even a bread knife could break its seal.

His head slumped back onto the pillow of the recliner, the cool leather sending a small chill across his ears and down his neck.  He closed his computer with a click.  Darkness.  Pure darkness.  The kind you could never find in a city or back home where his family was constantly meandering somewhere in the house.  No, this was real darkness, true darkness.  The kind that makes you feel that you’re surrounded by thick air, air like dense cotton fluff.  Like if you tried to stand up, you’d fall over, because you’ve lost which way is up.  Yes, now he felt comfortable, now his brain could settle into the mist.

He laid there staring into nothing for a moment.  Until he heard it, “Psssssst…”

This wasn’t a sound he was unfamiliar with.  As a matter of fact, he had been wondering when it might come.

“Psssssst…”

He slowly opened his eyes.  He was hoping he’d fall asleep tonight without having to deal with yet another visit.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

Go away, he thought, I’ve had a rough day.

“Nononononononono, talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

His heart started beating with a sudden jump.  He could feel his face getting red hot.  Why tonight?  Why after the day he’s had?  But then again, isn’t it always after days like this that these things haunt his conscience?

“Oh, rough day.  Life’s a bitch man.  You’ll never get ahead, you should know that.”

Oh, go away, he thought.

“Buddy, buddy, my man- I’m here for you.  Talk to me.” The voice slimy in it's slithering whisper.

His face kept getting hotter, his heartbeat heavier, his body rocking with every heartbeat.  I lost it, he thought.

“I know.”

I lost it big time.

“I know.”

I don’t think I can go back.  I can’t go back.

“Well, people get pissed, right?”

No, he thought, no, not like that.

“They shouldn’t have said what they said.”

He felt the fog lifting, his eyes beginning to burn.  It had a point, they had no right to say what they said.  He pictured their faces as their hard smiles deemed him  “queen of the fags.”

“They had no right to do what they did to you.”

His eyes were on fire; he didn’t want to cry.  He didn’t want them to be right.  He wanted to be a man, a strong man, and men don’t cry.  The pictures, though, flashed through his head.  The blur of the arms pushing him back and forth, the faces laughing as one of the pushes knocked the wind out of him.  The embarrassment he felt as they pointed at his skinny jeans and perfectly placed hair.

“They hurt you.  You had to do something.”

His face felt like it was going to explode.  He tried to breathe, but instead felt a convulsing gasp for air take over his body.  His eyes opened the gates and he felt free, for at least a second.  He couldn’t catch his breath, his diaphragm pushing as hard as it could, like he was vomiting from his lungs.  They had no right, he thought, they had no right.

“You did the right thing.”

His face, he thought, I’ll never forget his face.

“The shock.”

The terror.

“The fear.”

The helplessness.

“They finally understood.”

They finally understood what it felt like to be me, he thought.  They knew what it felt like to be on the other side, to feel the pain.

“Yes, now they know.”

He was able to breathe again, at least for a moment.  He opened his eyes and looked around the room.  His vision had adjusted just enough to see the shapes of the world around him.  He began his search.

“On the table, look on the table.”

He jumped up, fumbling through the darkness, searching his way to the table, his hands clumsily feeling the smooth surface for the sharp object.

“There it is.  Can you feel that?

He picked it up, began feeling the edge of the blade, the perfect edge, now covered in a sticky film.

“What worthless meatheads.”

His heart was sinking, he felt like he was going to puke.  Did he really do it?  Was this the razor that snipped the life thread of two lives today?

“Yes, two.  You’ll walk to class safely now.  No shame.  No fear.  No humiliation.  You can live your life.  You’re free.”

Stop it, he thought, just let me sleep.

“You’ll never sleep again.  You’ll never go a night without visions of their face as your blade slipped through his hood in between his ribs, or his face as your knife caught the nape of his neck, just enough.  You were perfect.”

He dropped the knife back on the table.  Tomorrow was only so far away.  He didn’t know what the day would bring, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll be with you, no matter what happens.

He went back to his chair, picked up his small blunt, and filled his lungs.  It was the only thing that could keep him still tonight.