Friction

You’ve fallen on the floor, coughing, spitting up blood and generally making a nuisance out of yourself.  Die already.  Get it over with.  Get this over with; leave us alone.  I only came here because you said that you were going to off yourself.  And then, just to watch.  I hate you.  I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that, and you still refuse to believe me.  You think that there’s something left, because I have this morbid curiosity, and because you still think that you love me.

I have news for you.  You never loved me.  You had this fantasy of me that I was somehow the perfect person for you.  Which is horseshit, and you know it.  Stop throwing up.  Keep those pills down, you sissy.  If you live through this, I’m not going to help you clean up this mess.  You can do it on your own.  So if you want my help, you better stop writhing around on the floor, stop it right now, and die.  Go visit all those fascinating people that are already dead.

What you’re doing here, it means nothing.  You think that you’re making some huge statement with your life.  You’re wrong.  I bet you can’t even name one soldier that died in the Crusades, and they all thought that they were doing something great with their lives.  Can you name a famous poet from 2000 B.C.?  Death erases everything, you schmuck, and it’s definitely going to erase my memory of you.

This note you left me?  It’s so typical.  I’ve already thrown it into the trash.  I did it while you were vomiting on the other side of this hovel of yours.  You think I’m cruel for throwing it away, don’t you?  Well, you know what I think?  I think that you’re a jackass for trying to pin your entire miserable existence and all of its problems and solutions on me.  You want to know what your real problem is today?  You were a dumb shit and took too many pills, and now you’re throwing up and trying really hard not to die.

Don’t reach for that phone.  Don’t dial 911 on your own.  I called them when I got here.  It’s part of the drill, and you know it.  You calling completely defeats the purpose of this exercise.  I thought that you wanted to die, and now you’re telling some operator that you’re stupid and you need to go to the hospital.  Put that down!  If you’re going to do this, at least do it properly.  Don’t fuck this up like you do with everything else.

I’m so tired of watching you writhe around like this.  I hear sirens outside, and that means that there’s going to be cops here in a second, and so now, instead of spending just a few minutes watching you off yourself, I have to spend it all in the hospital, filling out forms, having people tell me that they’re going to throw you in a psych ward for observation, and generally missing some fantastic television.

Maybe I just won’t give you the satisfaction.  Maybe I’ll just jump out the window, diving, you know, so that I land head-first, and then, once you recover, you’ll have to deal with me being dead.  How would you like that, you motherfucking prick?  Maybe that would get you to stop writing endnotes.

There’s a knock on the door.  Sit up for a second, will you?  Make yourself presentable.  You’re not surprising anyone if you’re lying there like that.  If you want to make a statement, then fine, but if you want to writhe, then you’re going to waste the officer’s and EMS guy’s time because they’ve totally seen it before.  They’ve seen you do it before.  Sit up, come on now, and put on a brave face.

I’m getting the door.  When I get back, with the people who are going to save you – and I swear, this is the last time that they’re going to do it – you better still be sitting up.  No doubling over on the floor.  Have a little dignity, for the sake of the rest of us.

 

He’s been like this for a little while, Officer.  No, it’s not his first time.  Yeah, the weather sucks.  If you punch him in the stomach, just give him one really good whap, I’m sure he’ll spit up the rest of whatever it is that he took.  What does he have around?  I don’t know.  Some Ritalin.  Some pain pills.  Some Ambien.  No, he didn’t take the Ambien.  He’s tried that once, and it’s not dramatic enough for him.  He wants to go out like this, destroying this shitbox little apartment.  I threw everything out last time, so he must have found a new doctor.  Or maybe this is just a little bit of Draino, like a shot of it or something.

Yeah, the bastard listed me as his guardian once upon a time.  He thought that he loved me then, too, but he was always a little off.  This is his M.O.  He dramatizes everything.  I’m sorry that you had to see this, sir, I really am, but he’s pushed himself a bit far and he needs to be taken care of for a while.

What do you mean, this is my fault?  It’s my fault that he did something?  Oh, no.  You’re not blaming this one on me.  This can be society’s fault, or the jackass’ fault, but it’s not mine.  I tried to get him help.  When I pretended to myself that I loved him, I gave him all the help that I could find.

He doesn’t have any family to speak of.  I’m it.  Why are you asking me all these questions?  Why aren’t you guys taking him to the hospital?  He needs his stomach pumped or something.  There’s something that you guys can do, I know, so stop asking me all of these stupid questions and just get him out of here, ok?  I want to clean this place up for whenever you release him from the hospital.

Please, take him out of here, ok?  I know that he’s not throwing up anymore, and that you think it might be out of his system, and that he doesn’t have insurance, but just let him go for a while, ok?  I can’t see him like this.  I can’t look at his shell and not want to rip it apart and find what used to be in there, ok?  It’ll be better for us both if you take him in.

No, he’s not.  He’s not, ok?  He’s tried this before, and he’s just acting comatose.  What do you mean, why doesn’t he have a pulse?  I don’t know.  Maybe your EMTs are incompetent.

I’m telling you, he’s still alive.  Don’t put him in a bag.  Hey.  HEY!  What do you think you’re doing?  He’s still here, ok?  Don’t put him in a bag.  I don’t know what to do with a body, but it doesn’t matter because he’s still here, alright?

Alright?

 

It’s not going to be alright, is it?