Life was no longer something he cherished. His introverted self no longer kept him company and he disliked any of the feelings his five senses gave to him. He thought to himself, ‘would it matter if I wasn’t here tomorrow. Would I be missed?’ He answered his own question. ‘Well not really. Most probably atleast until the funeral was over’. Life goes on he had decided along time ago as he toyed with the concept on several occasions. Besides he didn’t really keep in touch with anybody so he would easily be forgotten.
That made him snicker and focus on what he was holding in his hands. He rolled the cool hard steel over in his palms clasping his fingers over the barrel and the well crafted smooth ivory handle. It was a fine piece of workmanship worthy on the promise it had made to him. A promise that would be made and not broken.
Lifting the green coloured glass bottle to his lips he spent several seconds sculling the contents down. It felt good and it felt powerful. That made him smile. He poured some more pills from his brown coloured drug bottle and swallowed them. He had several in his collection all prescribed by the various doctors he would call upon. It was easy to get. He had his ex-girl friends to thank for that as they had shown him how easy the system readily supplied drugs that were as good as those that were illegal. It wasn’t hard to get a doctor to buy into your woes and give you what you wanted, a prescription.
He had a few ritalen tablets which he liked to call poor mans speed but take enough and they worked. Some valium, some prozac and some of your run of the mill pain killers. It was lighter on the stomach than ecstasy and had just as good a lasting effect. He wouldn’t care now when he pulled the trigger.
He was well and truely high he reslised. If the way in which his mind float around the room was any indicator to go by . He thought about his mediocre life and the many things he had and hadn’t done. Then he thought about her. The pain she had caused him and the fact that he would never have her again had become too much emotional baggage to deal with everyday. He had screwed up in a big way and she would no longer trust or forgive him. Without her his life he had become worthless.
He snapped out of those self destructive thoughts and drifted his attention to other random memories. Terminator movies began to surface. The Terminator, a cybernetic organism that although did not have a conscious felt meaning to its existence through having a program to complete. A mission in life. He rembered how aptly named the terminator was. He wasn’t into a mass killings followed by suicide although it could be fun. The only person he wanted to hurt was himself.
The sound a gun made and the impact it had on the target was pure evil in its cruelest form. A .38 calibre piece of metal rupturing in and out of a biological organism was an exellent demonstration for physics 101. He was really going to mess up his room.
These thoughts caused a release of dopomine and adrenalin which arroused the existing chemicals in his brain sending him into deeper energized emotional state. Laugher split the silence that had been in his room for too long as he burst into a fit of hysterics. ‘After all it really was funny. Someone else would have to clean up for once’.
He forced down some more pills followed by quantities of refreshing liqour and thought of her again. Her small gentle hands that were always cold to the touch. Her slim slender frame, a super models frame petite and wiry yet seductive and sexy. He thought of the way her tight arse held firm providing the most inviting gap into her vaginal walls. He thought of how she would squeem when he rested the full force of his weight on her skeletel frame after he had filled her insides with thick pools of sticky white semen.
Anger centered his phyche around this sexual twisted reality. Mistified passive anger due to the intake of prescription drugs and liqour he had sucumbed too. She was no longer his but she could be anyone elses and had. Bitter coldness was all his heart could feel now. He clenched hard on cold metal and was almost pushed to the purpose he intended. She had fucked with his mind and he couldn’t take it.
‘True love’ she had said. True love wasn’t something she felt between them. He centered his state of mind on love, the unconditional bond that comes in unknown quantities. The coldness in his heart thawed and and a small droplet of water formed from his left eye and ran gently down the side of his cheek splattering through his stuble on the way down.
Paronia set in and the love he remebered turned to fear. Fear became hate and hate caused his body to ache with pain once again. Without realizing it he reached for some more of his pills he had and threw them down his throat. He was feeling a spinning swaying sensation that was getting stronger by the minute and he felt mildly faint. He rested his head on the wall to get some stability back and closed his eye. He was in a dream like state now on the brim of conscioness and began allowing himself to have flash backs of her and those painful memories she was linked too.
With his mind occupied and gaining more of an exalted cognitiveness he poured himself a similar dose of pills to the last. These one started to get stuck in his throat as his body started to reject the effects that the massive amounts of drugs were doing to his brain, kidneys and liver. His blood stream was now a potent cocktail of decadence delivering chemicals to all his vital organs and nerve endings throughout his body. He only had empty bottles left and nothing in them to wash the pills down. The pills were disolving in his throat and the taste was unbearable causing him to gag. He didn’t no what true love was but he understood the pain and suffering it had now caused him. He had learned true love the hardway and would teach himself a lesson once and for all. There would be no more unknown answers and better yet no more interrogating questions.
He cocked the .38 Smith and Western that had been his companion and phychiratrist this fateful night and picked himself up from under his study desk stepping back into the center of the room. The barrel slid into his mouth and hit the back of his throat making him convulse and instinctively tilt the gun down with the barrel aimed into his head. He had time for one last encouraging thought, ‘Life’s a bitch and then you’re dead’.
A loud crack like that of an incredibly large firecracker going off shook the room and surrounding apartments. Bloody bits of brain and skull splattered the desk and across a poster of a naked playboy model which decorated the wall.
A chaotic comotion began forming down stairs in the street and in the hallways. A car drove past with enhanced subwoofer technology and megawatt speakers blasting the lyrics of a rapper to those nearby. ‘You’re just another victam kid, just another victam’.