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December 05, 2022

The End

By Lothur Winston

You know, you never cease to amaze me, with the different ways that you always seem to paint yourself into a corner, then look around at the things that have transpired as if it is a miracle that you have gotten yourself into this latest situation ... pleading with those pitiful eyes for help from some one to take mercy upon you and help you drag yourself out of what ever mess you have gotten yourself into.

The tone was mocking, and judging, the visage in the mirror starring back like it was some Supreme Court justice, better than me. Looking down its nose at me as if my value was less than manure.

"Go to hell." I spat back at the mirror. It was the wittiest comeback I could come up with at the time.

Well, judging by the looks of things, we are already there. Here the voice paused long enough to take in the ramshackle of a motel room with its one yellowed working light bulb and cockroaches scurrying about. Or if you have your way, we will be there soon enough. Its eyes came to rest on me sitting at the foot of the bed, sawed off shotgun cradled between my legs.

I simply glared back at the image sitting in judgment of me and my life. Like it always had been, it was my own worse enemy. Hell, who was I kidding? I was, and had always been, my own worse enemy. He was right, and what made matters worse, he knew that he was right. Which gave him every right and opportunity to sit in judgment of the things that I had or had not done in my life.

Go ahead and grab the bottle and take another swig off of it. Let that numb you a bit more, give you a little bit more courage that you think that you need to finish this off. Or, are you looking at that mirror? Kinda counter-productive, don't ya think? One makes you go to sleep, the other stay awake and hear voices that aren't even there. Say for instances, hmmm, I don't know, maybe ME! Does it really matter if it ends with an overdose or a shotgun blast? Besides the obvious difference: one allows for an open casket at the funeral and one doesn't

I withdrew my hand from the bottle that I had been reaching for, and tried to avert my eyes from the drugs that had already been cut up and were lying on the mirror in nice straight lines. Beckoning to me, trying to draw me into them. My leg started its nervous twitch, bouncing up and down like some crazed heavy metal drummers leg. Why in the hell did I always do that?

You don't know and you don't care, you never have, and you never will. Look, I am getting really bored with this, really fast. Either do it and end it and get it over with or do a bump or another shot. For pity's sake do something! The voice was screaming at me, trying to motivate me into doing something anything to get me out of the seated position that I had riveted myself to.

"Like I said, go to hell!" I had so not brought my 'A' game for this encounter when it came to witty comebacks. The image feigned being struck by something.

Boy, the hits keep on coming don't they? Look, you spent what little cash you had on everything that is in this room. I got to say that I was really impressed that you were able to get as much as you did for that pile of rusting bolts that you sold. Heck, I was impressed with the ability to part with the last thing that your sainted mother had given you. Even more so when the guy at the dealership balked at the fact that you hadn't even bothered to get the title moved over to your name. You sure were on your toes for that one. Here the voice finally shut up enough to give me a mocking two thumbs up. Go ahead, that blued steel feels nice and smooth doesn't it? Comforting almost, the perfect solution to all your problems. You never learned to deal with success or failure, yet this would be the greatest of both wouldn't it? I mean come on; you never thought that you would get to be this old, so why continue to age? Why continue to feel the pain that is life?

Here I finally had enough of his whining voice, and turned up the volume on my iPod; to drown out his voice, to get away from the things that he was saying. I snarled into the mirror and reached slowly, longingly for the bottle that was on the floor by my feet. I twisted my face at the image in the mirror, daring it to say another word to me. I turned the bottle up and took several long draws on the vile-tasting fluid that poured down my throat. When I had my fill, I lowered the bottle, walked over to the mirror and promptly did two or three lines of white powder up each nostril and went back and plopped down in the place that I had been in before.

Go ahead and turn the music up as loud as you want. It isn't going to change the fact that I can out shout it into your very being. Do you feel better now? Of course he knew the answer, the liquor had finally hit my empty stomach like bricks, causing me to wince internally. My stomach threatened to revolt against me. Just then the drugs hit their stride, sliding down my nasal passage and making me feel as if my head was about to explode from the pressure. I squinted at the mirror, waiting for the next round of verbal assault. I hated him, I hated me, and I hated everything and everyone in all eternity.

Oh come on for pity's sake, you know better than that. There are people out there that you still love and miss and wish that you could have a real relationship with. Stop trying to fool yourself, because you sure as hell aren't fooling me. You would give your nuts to be able to hold your children just once more and try and mentor them to not become ... Here it paused again to pass a sneering eye over my person. To become, well exactly what the hell you have become. A middle-aged man, without family or friends, without a job, without a future and no way to change the way things are about to end.

The combination of illicit drugs and cheap liquor began to prove a powerful mix. My own body forced me down onto the bug-riddled bed. I thought briefly how long it would take for anyone to realize that I was in the room and dead.

Your dumb ass only paid for one day, they will figure it out pretty quickly, I am quite certain of that.

I wondered how long it would be before the people that I did actually care about would find out.

I thought that you didn't care about those people anymore? Since you registered as some one other than yourself and you don't have any identification on your worthless hide. I think that you will be buried as one John Doe, in the potter's field. Your children will continue to think that you abandoned them. Your friends will eventually get together for happy hour and all sit around and wonder what ever happened to you. If you are lucky they will toast your memory and then you will slowly fade and no one will be there to mourn your passing. Right now the only beings on this earth that care about you are those bugs biting into your skin, and the only reason they care is because of the meal that you offer to them.

My eyelids suddenly felt like they had two-ton weights attached to them. Try as I might they would not stay open for me to glare back at the vision in the mirror. I heard a ringing sound, faint at first off in the distance.

It is nothing that you need to concern yourself with, it is something that you no longer care about, remember?

Then it continued to get louder and closer. I wasn't able to put my finger on it, but my finger did find the trigger to the gun by mistake.

Yeah, that's it, squeeze. The word was long and overly drawn out, tempting me to simply give in to the command. It would be so easy to simply stop caring. To stop caring about everything and everyone that had ever crossed my path. Good, Bad, or Indifferent alike. The metal feels so cool and relaxing, it is longing for your touch to simply warm itself. You know that feeling. The feeling that you have longed for, for so long, to have someone touch you and love you and care about just you. Not wanting anything, but simply wanting to give you something. It is simply wanting to give you the resolution to your situation that you want. Allow it to help you, one gentle squeeze and it will be all over, a bad dream that you couldn't ever wake up from. This is your final friend, wanting to help you do the one thing that no one else has ever been able to give you. Take it up on its offer.

The voice had steadily gotten louder trying to drown out the ringing sound that I was now certain that I was hearing, knowing now that it wasn't simply something else of my imagination. The bed began to vibrate lightly, and then there seemed to be a million footsteps. As if the entire army was coming to my room for a party. My eyes fluttered lightly, and here I was nude. Not dressed to accept company.

Pull the damn trigger you worthless piece of dung, or I will! The voice was urgent; I simply smiled. I knew that it couldn't do anything in the physical realm, then I chuckled, and my stomach revolted finally against me. Bile seeped from my lips; I turned my head and coughed violently. There was a pounding at the door, I tried to will myself up to answer whomever was my unexpected guests were. I only succeeded in falling off of the bed with a resounding thud. There was an explosion behind me someplace and I was suddenly deafened. The door exploded inward. I clenched my eyes closed against the sounds, and lights, and smells.

Everything faded to black, and that is how I have come to find myself here today. I consider it a rebirth if you will. I don't know where I am. But I am no longer alone, with my own worst enemy.

Article © Lothur Winston. All rights reserved.
Published on 2006-11-27
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