Now what was I doing? Oh, yeah, cleaning the carpets. I pick up the bottle of all purpose cleaner and spray the carpet by the couch. I guess I should get a rag and soak up the excess before it stains. Does it stain? That’d be messed up if it did. This shit is supposed to clean, not make the mess worse. And permanent. I walk back into the kitchen and see the sink full of suds and water on the floor. When did I do that? What was I doing? Shit, I need to clean the floor in here. I walk to the closet and pull out my mop. Back in the kitchen I start spreading water around and mopping it up. Every move I make has slight pain to it, but I ignore it. I’m getting better. I’m getting better. I’m getting better. This mantra replays in my head right up to the point when I slip on the water and tumble back and crack my head again. I fight to stay awake. Sleeping with a concussion would be very bad at this point. Even I know that, everyone knows that. My vision goes tunnel for a bit. I can’t see peripherally although that doesn’t matter much. My kitchen is narrow so all I would be seeing is the underside of my cabinets. Not too impressive. All I have to do is stay above this and make it out okay. I’m not going to pass out. Everything is cool.
The water is cold around me when I reawaken. Fuck. Nothing is going alright. I can see a bright, golden ray of sunlight cascade through my window and hit the wall above my head. The sun has sunk further, but I still have an hour or two of real light before twilight. This may be the best thing that I see all day. Endless beauty provided by nature. Time has passed and I don’t care anymore. I’m so very tired. Getting up may kill me, but staying here may kill me more and I don’t care. Is this a sign from God? Am I done?
I realize I am going to die. Here. Now. On the floor of my kitchen in a mix of blood and vodka and soapy water and I don’t give a damn. My time is up. I’ll be forgotten soon. Kirsten will be heartbroken for sure, but she’s young. She’ll get over it. Maybe she’ll find someone else sooner than I think she will. She’s beautiful, some emotional problems, but mostly stable. Hopefully she isn’t so attached to me that my death somehow destroys her life. I have only the best hopes for her. I had hoped I would have been in her future, but now it’s clear I won’t be. I rest my head and close my eyes.
I remember the first time I met Kirsten. I was at a party a few blocks away from my place. I knew the guys, so the beer was free. They had spared no expense and had a few kegs. Keg beer always tastes better than normal beer so I drink it faster. I spotted a girl from across the room. She was smoking hot. She had medium length blonde hair, a huge rack that stood out nicely in her tight shirt, smooth long legs out of a short black mini-skirt. It was the first time in my life that I was actually speechless. Brian was babbling in my ear, but I paid no attention to him. I just couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I knew I had to have her, but I knew she was out of my class. She was talking to some frat dick and I knew that I would have to kill him.
It was going to take a lot more alcohol to work up the courage to talk to her, but I was that dedicated. My liver could go to hell for all I cared. I went into the back room for another refill, but by the time I returned she had moved and I was heartbroken. I looked around to see if she was being obscured by anybody, but she was nowhere in the room. I walked over to Brian and asked if he had seen her.