Alternative Rip
tammy's tune
Elsie brought Cody to his place the other day. I know because I saw him and Cody basically fucking against the door. Cody had his hands in Elsie’s pants and Elsie was mouthing at Cody’s neck. Elsie and I made eye contact before I started my car up. He smirked, winked and bucked his hips against Cody’s—like I fucking care.
It’s his goddamn funeral. If only Elsie was the one six feet under and not Remy. Remy I could stand most of the time but Elsie’s such a dirt bag. Elsie’s the fool because I have Sonny wrapped around my finger. Elsie’s the fool because I’m going to fuck Sonny and I’m going to make sure Elsie knows.
It was only twenty minutes later that I was at Sonny’s. Sonny was sitting on his bed smoking cigarettes and reading some pretentious novel that Remy probably owned. He was drinking scotch and I poured myself a glass. I’m pretty sure Sonny was trying to ignore me but I sat on his bed and palmed his dick through his trousers.
I wasn’t even fucking hot but I wanted to get Sonny off so bad and I wanted Elsie to know. I wanted Elsie to fucking scream at me. I wanted to fuck Sonny but I didn’t want him to fuck me.
Sonny was still determined to ignore me but I pulled his zipper down instead of stopping. He was already hard and I wondered if I could make him come in thirty seconds. Probably—Sonny most likely hasn’t beat it since Remy died.
It didn’t even take ten seconds before Sonny threw his book aside and look at me. His eyes were wide and bloodshot and it almost looked like he was going to cry. I didn’t care. I really didn’t care about Sonny at all. I don’t think I care about anyone, not even myself. And maybe that’s why I was fucking Elsie; maybe why I was rubbing Sonny’s pre-come around with my thumb.
I think I was drowning. I’m not sure what in but there was no safety net, no life jacket. I was fucking drowning and it was too late to turn back.
❁
Elsie saved me once and I’m pretty sure he regrets it. Fuck, I regret it. I regret not starting sooner. It was a month after we started fucking and two months after Remy died. He found me in my bedroom on the floor by my bed. I wanted to die in my bed but I remember not feeling strong enough to get there. I was so tired and dizzy that I sat down but then I couldn’t get back up.
I remember feeling weightless at first.
But in that moment I felt so heavy. I felt like a two-ton truck was sitting on me. I felt crushed, like something was sitting on my ribs and I couldn’t breathe. It was that moment that I knew it was coming. I was so elated and free and I remember crying.
Not because I regretted swallowing almost a full bottle of Xanax but because it was finally going to end. I remember seeing Remy. Remy looked just as bad when I was almost dead than she was in life. I laughed and laughed and laughed and that’s how Elsie found me.
With a bottle of pills half empty and laughing like I was out of my fucking mind. And goddamn I was. I so far out of my mind and the fucker still called 9-1-1.
It’s his goddamn funeral. If only Elsie was the one six feet under and not Remy. Remy I could stand most of the time but Elsie’s such a dirt bag. Elsie’s the fool because I have Sonny wrapped around my finger. Elsie’s the fool because I’m going to fuck Sonny and I’m going to make sure Elsie knows.
It was only twenty minutes later that I was at Sonny’s. Sonny was sitting on his bed smoking cigarettes and reading some pretentious novel that Remy probably owned. He was drinking scotch and I poured myself a glass. I’m pretty sure Sonny was trying to ignore me but I sat on his bed and palmed his dick through his trousers.
I wasn’t even fucking hot but I wanted to get Sonny off so bad and I wanted Elsie to know. I wanted Elsie to fucking scream at me. I wanted to fuck Sonny but I didn’t want him to fuck me.
Sonny was still determined to ignore me but I pulled his zipper down instead of stopping. He was already hard and I wondered if I could make him come in thirty seconds. Probably—Sonny most likely hasn’t beat it since Remy died.
It didn’t even take ten seconds before Sonny threw his book aside and look at me. His eyes were wide and bloodshot and it almost looked like he was going to cry. I didn’t care. I really didn’t care about Sonny at all. I don’t think I care about anyone, not even myself. And maybe that’s why I was fucking Elsie; maybe why I was rubbing Sonny’s pre-come around with my thumb.
I think I was drowning. I’m not sure what in but there was no safety net, no life jacket. I was fucking drowning and it was too late to turn back.
❁
Elsie saved me once and I’m pretty sure he regrets it. Fuck, I regret it. I regret not starting sooner. It was a month after we started fucking and two months after Remy died. He found me in my bedroom on the floor by my bed. I wanted to die in my bed but I remember not feeling strong enough to get there. I was so tired and dizzy that I sat down but then I couldn’t get back up.
I remember feeling weightless at first.
But in that moment I felt so heavy. I felt like a two-ton truck was sitting on me. I felt crushed, like something was sitting on my ribs and I couldn’t breathe. It was that moment that I knew it was coming. I was so elated and free and I remember crying.
Not because I regretted swallowing almost a full bottle of Xanax but because it was finally going to end. I remember seeing Remy. Remy looked just as bad when I was almost dead than she was in life. I laughed and laughed and laughed and that’s how Elsie found me.
With a bottle of pills half empty and laughing like I was out of my fucking mind. And goddamn I was. I so far out of my mind and the fucker still called 9-1-1.