Dead (Not) Dead
by MR
I don’t know where the hell I am or how fucking long
I’ve been here. Could be weeks, could be months,
could be fucking years. All I know is that it’s dark
and hot and I’m alone.
Except when Billy comes to visit.
I can’t move. For the longest time I though the
bastard had me tied down somehow, but I don’t think
that’s it at all anymore. There’s a reason I can’t
move, a reason I don’t want to think about, but it’s
there, hanging just at the back of my consciousness,
teasing me with threats of one day turning on the
lights and letting me know why it is I can’t feel my
own body.
I think I sleep a lot. It’s hard to tell, but I think
I spend most of my time asleep. And even when I’m not
asleep I’m still so fucking tired I can’t hardly keep
my eyes open. If my eyes have ever been open. Too
dark to tell, huh?
I don’t know how often Billy comes to visit.
Sometimes it’s like he’s been here for days. Other
times I’d swear I haven’t heard his voice in months.
Sometimes I’d sell my soul to hear him talk. More
often, when he is here, I’d give anything to make him
shut up.
“How ya doin’, Joe?”
How the fuck you think I’m doin’, Billiam? I’m stuck
in the fucking dark and I can’t fucking move!
In the beginning, if there ever was a beginning to
this and I haven’t always been here, I used to yell at
him. I screamed till my throat was raw and I choked
myself, and it never made a shits worth of difference.
Took me a long time to figure that out.
Billy, just let me go and I’ll forget anything
happened, huh?
“Who says I’m making you stay, Joe?”
Fucking bastard. Smug fucking bastard! I’d like to
punch that smug little smile off his face.
“But you can’t, can ya, Joe?”
Shut the fuck up, Billy!
Silence. Dead silence. There’s nothing around me,
nothing alive, just total dead calm. I never hear him
coming. I don’t even know he’s here until he starts
talking. I should be able to hear a door opening and
his footsteps or something, shouldn’t I? Just cause I
can’t move doesn’t mean I can’t hear, right? I can
hear his voice when he talks. I know he’s here cause
sometimes he touches me.
“Wanna have some fun, Joe?”
It’s like being raped. Don’t make no sense, but it
still feels like fucking being raped. Never mind I’m
fucking him, it’s still fucking rape. I can’t move
and I can’t feel anything, even when I’m fucking him.
I can feel his weight on top of me, but I can no more
feel my dick than I can feel anything else. Wouldn’t
know he was doing anything if not for the weight.
Don’t know whether I come or not. Don’t know whether
he comes. Don’t fuckin’ care!
Get off me, Billy! Get of me or I’ll…
“You’ll what, Joe? Hit me? Make me?” And he laughs
that soft deep laugh. “When you gonna get it through
your thick skull you aren’t in control anymore, Joe?”
And you are?
“No one’s in control, Joe. We’re just doing what we
always did. Fuckin’ each other over.”
I hear the click of a lighter and I know he’s lighting
up, but I never see any sparks and I never smell the
smoke. And I never know for sure when he’s left,
except that there’s no one there to talk to.
Or maybe he never goes away at all. Maybe he’s always
here and he just doesn’t say anything unless he feels
like it. May he’s never here at all and I’m
hallucinating him. Maybe I’m dead and gone to hell.
“You should be so lucky.”
I don’t feel much of anything anymore. My mind’s as
numb as my body. I wish I could just go to sleep and
stay that way. I wish he’d quit letting me fuck him.
“That’s not buddies, Joe.”
I wish he’d go away and leave me the fuck alone.
“Wanted me all to yourself, Joe.”
I wish I’d never heard of Hard Core Logo or Billy
Tallent or Joe Dick.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist ‘bout it, Joe.
Someday, if you’re really good, I’ll turn on the
lights and let you see.”
I wish I were dead.
“Maybe you are.”
Then I wish I was alive.
“You’re both, Joe. Both and neither one.” And he
laughs softly. “Ain’t that just a kick in the balls?
FIN
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