I sat in my plush arm chair, clutching a glass with a strong smell wafting from it. I looked at the small wooden table beside me. On it sat a bottle labelled ‘Wild Turkey’, it was half full.
I finished the last of my drink in one large gulp, then stood up. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was one in the morning.
Time for bed, the time I hated.
I stumbled towards the stairs and made my way hopelessly to the top.
I was very drunk. Good.
I continued on to my room and pushed the door open. There wasn’t much in here anymore. Not since………
I slumped on my bed in a drunken heap and slipped into unconsciousness.
****
‘Babe, look at me.’
I looked to the passenger seat. A light flashed, it temporarily blinded me. I blinked multiple times to regain my vision. When I could see again, I looked into her face and smiled.
She made me so happy. She was so beautiful. I don’t know how I got a girl like her. Her face turned a deep scarlet, she was blushing. She put her head down, ‘What?’ she giggled.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I’m staring.’ I smiled.
She giggled again and looked down at the camera she had just used to take a photo of me.
I heard a loud beep, a horn.
My head jerked round, to the road. I had veered to the other side; we were heading straight for a truck.
Both vehicles were doing at least one hundred kilometres; my mind had already registered to the fact that we were both dead.
Then instinct took over. My hands jerked the steering wheel as fast as they could. The road was too wet. The car started spinning out of control.
Her screams filled my ears. Everything was a blurred daze.
We collided. Glass flew everywhere. Her screams stopped.
****
I sat up abruptly, panting heavily and covered in sweat. My head was no longer spinning and I could see straight. I wasn’t drunk anymore.
It was time for my forgetful medicine, the only thing that worked.
I ran down stairs and snatched the bottle off the table. I unscrewed the lid and put it up to my mouth. The liquid burnt as it passed over my tongue and down my throat.
I finished the rest of the bottle in a large draught. I threw the bottle to the ground. It smashed and tiny pieces of glass flew everywhere.
I walked into the kitchen and retrieved another bottle of liquor from the cupboard.
As I opened it I started to cry, I could feel the hot fluids running down my face. I couldn’t take this any longer. Willowing in my sorrow, I needed a way out.
I took the car keys and went to the car outside. I opened the door hastily and got inside.
I put my head on the steering wheel.
Do I want to do this?
I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The cars engine roared into life as I revved it. As I took a drink from the bottle I reversed out of the drive way and drove down the street, passing the familiar neighbourhood.
For one last time.
As I got onto a straighter road with less traffic, I sped up.
I took another swig; I could feel the alcohol going to my head. I glanced at the speedo. It said I was doing one hundred and fifty kilometres. Well above the speed limit. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything anymore.
I put my foot down and the car revved harder and louder, pushing itself to go faster. I noticed there was a large tree just ahead, my lucky break.
I swerved and the car veered off the road, onto the grass. The terrain was very lumpy, I couldn’t control the car. I dropped the bottle, alcohol splashed into my eyes. My hands accidently jerked the steering wheel to the left.
The car spun to its side and skidded towards the tree.
The passenger side crumpled and the car stood up on two wheels. My head jerked to the side, it smashed on the seat. I could feel blood rushing down the side of my face. I could hear the windows smash and the metal denting.
The car landed back on four wheels, jerking me again. My head collided with the window. It smashed. I could feel chunks of glass stuck in my flesh, blood pouring from the wounds they had created.
I opened my eyes. I was still alive.
I repeatedly banged my head on the steering wheel. I began to cry again.
As I reached over to the glove compartment images of her flashed in and out of my mind. I let out a loud cry.
I pulled out a shiny black revolver.
I tried to open my door but it wouldn’t budge. I kicked it and the hinges moaned. I kicked it harder and the door fell to the ground.
I stepped over it and walked out into the green field.
My palm started to sweat and I noticed I was gripping the gun very tight.
I stopped walking and looked to the sky and screamed. I fell to my knees and instantly started sobbing. More images flashed through my mind of her, of the accident. I could never forget it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled between sobbing and sniffling.
I put the barrel of the gun in my mouth.
It would be over soon. All the pain, all the suffering, it would all go away.
I cocked the gun.
‘I love you,’ I whispered. The words were inaudible but I knew I said it. That’s all that mattered.
I slowly pulled the trigger back.
This is the end.
No more pain.
The hammer pulled back and hit the back of the metallic bullet, sending it flying into my head at a high velocity.
The bullet hit the roof of my mouth and ripped through my flesh, leaving a trail of blood.
It buried itself deep inside my brain.
My whole body stopped functioning immediately and I slumped to the ground in a pool of blood.
I was at peace a last.
