Promise me that when I'm dead you'll kill my enemies.
The sky shimmers slightly above the windshield. My eyes adjust to the light and I curse softly, pumping the gas pedal. I am working. The car starts, jumps and a craft knife falls out of the ruin that was my glove box. I do not remember buying that. Obviously new, the sunlight glitters lovely and pyrite off of the blade. I glance at the road to make sure that I am suitably trapped in the parking lot by oncoming traffic and lean over to pick it up. There is an orange cap inside the glove box that fits over it. A safety procedure. When did I buy this, and why do I not remember buying it? Maybe someone left it... but, the only person that I have had in my car lately was Clayton. I doubt he would have left a knife in my car.
Not that I don't have a knife in my car already. I deal with drunks every day; there's always a chance that someone might decide that, hey, this guy is carrying a great deal of money on him, let's jump him. It's an old, battered knife I picked up in an army surplus store in Richmond, Indiana.
I put the cap back on the craft knife and set it in the passenger seat.
Then, I see the nurse.
She sets me up a doctor's appointment for tomorrow at three PM. She says that I could have the following: a) liver damage; b) esophagal varicies; c) esophagal damage due to increased influx of stomach acid; or d) "something worse." She says, "Not to worry you, but you should definitely get checked within the next twenty-four hours. Definitely. So make that appointment. Also, keep a phone near you, in case you need to call nine-one-one." Thanks, I'm not worried at all, no. "If it is the esophagal varicies, there's a chance that the enlarged vein could rupture and you'll bleed to death."
I try calling my dad to ask him how he's doing. He says the doctors have not gotten back to him on the results of his test. Not much else is said. I mention the problems with my car. Tells me that I should take it in and get it checked up. Doesn't know that I am having these problems with my body. Really, I just do not feel hungry anymore.
Driving, I finally listen to my voicemail. I dislike voicemail. Intensely. Generally when I receive voicemail, I start to emotionally shift. Most people that have to leave a message usually make it seem as horrible as possible, and if not by what is said, then by the tone of what has been said.
And I feel the anger and sadness surge up like a hurricane. Swirling together and tearing through me. When anything affects me, everything affects me. I begin to think, think about the past, think about the choices and mistakes I have made. Where am I, anyway? I am still driving, somewhere... the back route out of Rock Falls. In the middle of nowhere. I turn down a country road and pull to the side.
On the radio, "Enveloped now, encased by my worst fear. I've never felt the nausea of longing to feel nothing. I never wanted to cease to exist, just disappear. Fear that memories are all that lie ahead. Never have I felt so lost. Memories dull my senses. Fear tragedy is all that lies ahead. Never have I felt so dead." I stare at some corn out the window. It waves to me. I raise a hand and wave back.
Fuck, I say and look around, people must think I'm fucking crazy.
After I regain my bearings, I pull around in the street and drive home. Shower. Drive here. Thinking along the way of medication to set me level. Wondering if I'll need medicine for whatever is wrong with my body. If so, will it react badly to the MAOI, if that's what they'll give me.
Not that I don't have a knife in my car already. I deal with drunks every day; there's always a chance that someone might decide that, hey, this guy is carrying a great deal of money on him, let's jump him. It's an old, battered knife I picked up in an army surplus store in Richmond, Indiana.
I put the cap back on the craft knife and set it in the passenger seat.
Then, I see the nurse.
She sets me up a doctor's appointment for tomorrow at three PM. She says that I could have the following: a) liver damage; b) esophagal varicies; c) esophagal damage due to increased influx of stomach acid; or d) "something worse." She says, "Not to worry you, but you should definitely get checked within the next twenty-four hours. Definitely. So make that appointment. Also, keep a phone near you, in case you need to call nine-one-one." Thanks, I'm not worried at all, no. "If it is the esophagal varicies, there's a chance that the enlarged vein could rupture and you'll bleed to death."
I try calling my dad to ask him how he's doing. He says the doctors have not gotten back to him on the results of his test. Not much else is said. I mention the problems with my car. Tells me that I should take it in and get it checked up. Doesn't know that I am having these problems with my body. Really, I just do not feel hungry anymore.
Driving, I finally listen to my voicemail. I dislike voicemail. Intensely. Generally when I receive voicemail, I start to emotionally shift. Most people that have to leave a message usually make it seem as horrible as possible, and if not by what is said, then by the tone of what has been said.
And I feel the anger and sadness surge up like a hurricane. Swirling together and tearing through me. When anything affects me, everything affects me. I begin to think, think about the past, think about the choices and mistakes I have made. Where am I, anyway? I am still driving, somewhere... the back route out of Rock Falls. In the middle of nowhere. I turn down a country road and pull to the side.
On the radio, "Enveloped now, encased by my worst fear. I've never felt the nausea of longing to feel nothing. I never wanted to cease to exist, just disappear. Fear that memories are all that lie ahead. Never have I felt so lost. Memories dull my senses. Fear tragedy is all that lies ahead. Never have I felt so dead." I stare at some corn out the window. It waves to me. I raise a hand and wave back.
Fuck, I say and look around, people must think I'm fucking crazy.
After I regain my bearings, I pull around in the street and drive home. Shower. Drive here. Thinking along the way of medication to set me level. Wondering if I'll need medicine for whatever is wrong with my body. If so, will it react badly to the MAOI, if that's what they'll give me.