I don’t recognize the voice on the machine at first, but then I realize that it’s Becky, Kirsten’s best friend. She’s talking about how Kirsten is there bawling her eyes out because she stabbed me. Of course Kirsten would go to Becky for help. They’re best friends and they comfort each other. Hopefully that’s all they’re doing and not discussing on where and how to bury the body. I wouldn’t put it past Kirsten, conniving bitch that she is. Acts all innocent, stabs me and then covers up the murder and takes all my stuff. On the machine Becky mentions that I’m probably at the hospital and just wanted to call me to prove to Kirsten that I wasn’t there. Nobody would be stupid enough to stay home with a horrible wound when they could just go get medical help.
Okay, I can’t listen to shit like that all afternoon. I don’t need calls telling me I’m stupid. I know that. I stand up and shamble over to the phone. Walking doesn’t hurt as much now for some reason. I grab the phone cord and attempt to yank it out of the wall. Lacking strength and with my sweat and blood covered palms slipping, it doesn’t work. I grab the head, depress the little switch and pull the cord out. Maybe I can’t yank the cord in anger but I can throw it. The phone doesn’t hit the wall like I wanted, but falls short and lands on the couch. Good. I hope the cleaning chemicals and blood fuck it up.
On my way back to the chair I bump into a lamp and it spins me around.
“Sorry, man.” I say to it.
I try to turn around but I’ve twisted my legs around and I find myself on the floor. Every time I try to forget about the pain, I can’t. I land right on the god damned wound. I can’t even scream it hurts so bad. Turns out I can still cry though. That sucks. They’re going to find my corpse, bled out and with red rimmed eyes. They’re going to know I went out like a little baby. Fuck! This is so humiliating. Eventually the pain ebbs enough that I can move. I still feel like puking but I don’t dare. I crawl to the wall that I share with my Mormon neighbors and rest my back against it. I look around the thrashed apartment and can’t stand it. I can’t believe I failed like this. This is my life around me and I fucked it up. This is it.
“Hey, guys,” I say, meaning for the Mormons to hear. I don’t know if they’re home or even if my weak voice can carry through the drywall, “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that. I…I didn’t mean to be such a cock to you guys all the time. It was just funny and to…be fair you guys were acting like pricks. But that’s behind…us. I’m truly sorry that we couldn’t be friends. I’m not such a bad…guy…once you get to know me.” I stop because a coughing fit has hit upon me. It really hurts and it’s relentless. By the time I’m finished blood covers my hand and dribbles out of my mouth. I don’t think it’ll be long now. “I just wish there was some way that I could…make amends for what I’ve done with and…during my life. I could’ve been nicer; I could have been more caring. Maybe you guys were right in trying to save me. Your hearts were in the right place and maybe I really needed to be saved. It seems the only thing I’ve ever really loved is Kirsten and this is…how…she repaid me. I guess I deserved it. I was a horrible person pretending to be a good guy and it never would have worked out. I wish I could take it all back. Everything. I’m sorry.” Maybe that’ll absolve me. A last confession to a wall. I’m pathetic.
I’m getting pretty tired. I guess this is finally it. No more pain, no more suffering, no arguments, no more classes, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks. But that also means no more afternoon ball games with my friends. No more getting drunk and having a good time. No more holding Kirsten after sex, her body cooling against my own. God, I can’t miss that. I don’t know where I’m going when I die, but I love her too much to leave her here, especially with my last act being a lie to her through her friend. I don’t think I can go through with this. I need help. I hope I’m not too far gone.