The phone rings and startles me. Other than my screaming and the UPS guy it’s been a bit quiet around here. Should I answer? Or is it the police? The fuck? Why would the police be calling me, idiot?! It’s not as though they call the house if they think someone’s in trouble. They would just kick in the door and see my situation. Maybe if I explained rationally and calmly that it was my fault that she stabbed me, Kirsten wouldn’t have to spend the next ten to fifteen years being some girl’s property. The phone rings again and snaps me back to reality. I should just answer it and keep my cool.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
“What’s up, man?” Brian asks.
Shit, why is Brian calling now? He’s supposed to be in physics right now, not calling me up when I’ve got shit to do. I don’t want to hear what chick he hooked up with right now.
“Nothing much. Just kind of sitting around my apartment. I was gonna’ start my, uh, homework here soon…” Talking is difficult. It’s like I ate too much and I’m constantly burping stuff up into my mouth. I hope Brian doesn’t notice that I’m not speaking as loud as I normally do.
“You wouldn’t believe how much homework I’ve got. I had to skip physics to do it all.”
If he had so much to do what was he doing calling me? I questioned him on this.
“Well, I had a lot, did half of it and then I got bored. Do you want to hang out?”
No, God damn it I do not want to hang out! I may be dying right now and your face is not the last thing I want to see. I also don’t want him to be the one saving me. He’d never let me forget that.
“No, I was…going to go up to the library…so I don’t get distracted.”
“Well, give me a call when you get done. We’ll have a beer or something. I have to tell you about this chick I met last night.”
I knew it. “I’m looking forward to it.”
When I try to replace the receiver I drop it before I can place it in the cradle. I am getting so sick of dropping shit. Why won’t my fingers work properly? Maybe I should drink some water. That’s probably the reason my body is fucking up. Fluid loss. This is the only time in my life I’ve been happy I have a cheap, $10 phone instead of a pricey cordless one. For once my day is going right and I don’t have to bend over to pick something up because I can simply pull the receiver up by the cord.
I grab the all purpose cleaner and walk over to the couch. This should be where I start because I don’t want this to set in anymore. Or should I start in the kitchen where it’s fresh? I mean this blood has already started to dry and I could make sure the stains aren’t the same all over the place. No, this is where I should start. It could be almost cathartic. Is that the right word? Or does it just feel right because this is where the mess started and this is where the cleaning should start? Anyway I don’t feel like walking back to the kitchen so I just start spraying the couch.
I don’t think this is going to work. Blood stains are hard to get out. At a concert one time I got out of the mosh pit and my shirt was covered in blood. Some guy had gotten a nose bleed or something and bled all over it, because it sure as shit wasn’t mine. I must have washed that shirt about a million times, but the stain never did come out all the way. Eventually I tossed the shirt into the dumpster, but I was still pissed. I liked that shirt. At least the shirt I was wearing today was just a white cotton t-shirt I woke up in. I would’ve been more pissed if she had ruined a shirt I liked.