Studying the Dead

It all was slow; the music blaring through different windows, the wind in my ears, the passing lights of different rooms, all of it, was slow. The only thing in fast motion were my thoughts.

I had a paper due Monday, maybe the professor would let it slide, just like Ma always let it slide when I couldn’t come home for the weekend. Bethy’s birthday was next weekend, hopefully she won’t hate me, I hate myself and that’s enough. I forgot to call her the other day, too busy with some school event.

Fuck, it’s cold. I’m cold, the wind’s cold. Why didn’t I wear a jacket? Oh, right, I did. It was somewhere else though, I couldn’t remember. Cold was good though, it clears the mind, my mind needs clearing, everything’s jumbled, jumbled like the eggs Cole and I made several weeks before. Damn those eggs were good. I wonder if he’ll always cook, sure has a knack for it. I never really liked cooking, though doesn’t really matter, does it. At least no one’ll get food poisoning from me. Pretty sure I almost killed Bethy with something I made once, poor girl.

What now? I really had no idea. I wonder if it’ll hurt. I remember dropping a watermelon from the roof once, it shattered. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening, I’d dreamt of it, but now, maybe I didn’t want to die. Hell, this is all wrong. I don’t want to reach the ground, I don’t want to…….