A Sprinkle of Death

 The Day That I Died

The day that I died was a typical day. A weekend day like any other for us. He had left the house with one of his buddies and had managed to steal some drugs from the local pharmacy. I was so upset. WHY? Why do you have to do that.

This was at a point in our lives, where I was the one that was going to keep him straight. I was going to keep him out of jail. We were going to have a good life.

I was wearing a kind of summer jump suit that day. What a goofy outfit to die in. It had elastic around the waist and it reminded me of when I was kid.

We were living in an apartment at the beach. Like many times before, we drove all over the island, visiting other people like ourselves. People with everyday jobs. Guys that worked in the mill or on construction jobs. Guys with girl friends. People that I really didn’t know. He was the social one. He knew everybody. We would visit one couple, drink some beers, smoke pot and talk about God knows what. He was gone. He just kept getting more and more limp. The more he was feeling the effects of the drugs that he had stolen the angrier I got. And the more pills that I would take. I couldn’t figure out why I just wasn’t getting high.

We finally made our way home. The day was gone. Looking back, I really can only remember one couple. We were sitting in their living room and his pants began to darken. I was mortified. And I felt bad for him. I had to get him home. I was embarrassed. I was lost and I just didn’t know what to do.

Once we were inside our place. A small upstairs, rundown, garage apartment, I began to let him have it. The fight was on. It’s funny, it’s like I can see myself, angry in my red and white striped jumper. He said hit me. He said it once, then he said it twice. I clobbered him. I lost my balance and fell on the floor. I didn’t even know I had crossed into a state of insanity. .

I went and laid down in my daughter’s bed. I was not going to get in my bed, in our bed. I wanted to be alone.

As I laid there, I knew that something was wrong. I could feel myself fading to black. I wanted help. I tried to call and my voice failed me.

Everything went black and that was it.

No light, no tunnel, no angels, nothing but the dark, filled with no memories.

2 thoughts on “A Sprinkle of Death”

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