Morgue Than Words

"Come on Frankie! Let's get messed up!" I slurred, crazy drunk. Frankie was drunk as well, we had no idea how we were going to get home, so me being the complete idiot I am...decide to drive.

I stumbled to the car and Frank follows. I sloppily put the keys into the igniton, and jumped at the sound of the engine roaring.

I pulled out of the bar and drove like crazy. My vision was blurred, and I was having trouble concentrating. The breaks screeched and I heard a smashing sound. I saw blood and Frankie, oh Frankie! He was bleeding and his head was limp on the side of his shoulder.

Is he dead? He is! I knew it! I felt tears in my eyes and I started to cry.

"No Frankie!" I sobbed.

I called for an ambulence, barly able to control myself, and the police came.

"Sir, what happend?"

I slur all my words together, "Fraaannkiie annd meee werrr drruuunnnk, aannnd wweeee craassssheeed."

I watch as they carried Frank away.

He was gone, but I am not sad. I got a ride from the police. I stumbled into my house and waited until they left.

I downed the vodka I had in my cabnit.

I stumbled into the bathroom.

Frankie, wait for me... I thought, as I pulled out a razor and sliced it across my arm.

I blacked out and was taken somewhere, where the hospital pronounced me dead. I was then taken to a mourge, to be identifeid.

Mikey, I always loved you, little bro. I missed him. But now I was with Frankie, I could hear him calling me, "Gee, come to me." And that's what I did.