Long Road To Ruin

…Let us reflect…

“Fuck man, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
“Look, I’m fucking sorry I came, Okay?!! I’ll just go home!” Nathan screamed out in the sea of people young and old.
“Fucking hell that’s not what I’m fucking saying okay?!! I’m just saying that five people for front-of-house is fucking ridiculous!”
“Well I don’t fucking know what you want from me!!”
“You don’t know much do you Nathan?!! You know how to stick your cock in something and swish it around until you feel goooooooood but that’s about it! Hey, how ‘bout you go suck off your cousin again or something because you’re not fucking wanted here!”
“Well let me just say this, how about you and Mikey go suck each other off before the show!! That usually calms you down so much you’re coming in your pants for over five hours straight!!”
“Fuck you Nath! Just because I like someone much more than you, you start pushing shit left, right and centre about them! I cannot fucking believe you! I’m leaving you all starting right-fucking-now!”
“You’ve said that so much it’s lost all meaning!!”
“Fuck you all, I’m leaving and you can just standby and watch!!”
“……………………..James…”

That was the night I left, the night it all went wrong. I grabbed my stuff and took a bus back to campus. Picking up my readily packed bags I rush out of my dorm room and jump on the next bus to the airport.
“One ticket for New York please”, was all I said that day; the only words that escaped the treacherous bounds of my mouth to jump out into society and be brushed away by the wind.

I felt bad, not just for myself but for Mikey as well; I know, dwell on the past but, he was also my present and future. That boy meant everything to me and I just left him standing there; astounded at my foolish acts and antics which would cause the break up of us all.

Sipping my airline instant coffee I think for a long, straight fourteen hours. Snapping back into reality reminds me that my ass is asleep, I’m covered in set coffee and the fasten-seatbelts sign is on. Being exceptionally uninterested at the situation at hand I stand up because my bladder is calling out for any opening to release the liquid built up.

After having a slight brawl with the stewardess I make myself towards the toilet block, placed rather close to the food storage area. E-coli anyone? Slowly finishing up and walking down the aisle back to my seat I get angry glares from everyone I pass; it seems to me that I’ve delayed this flight because of my weak bladder, well sorry guys, not everyone can just hold it okay?

Waiting for everyone to move off the plane I sit tight in my assigned seat next to the window. I made it to New York but I’m not any happier here. After getting through customs and the Jehovah’s witnesses I move towards the pay phones and call an old friend.

“Alex! Thank god you picked up; I’m here at the airport.”
“Thanks for telling me James, I’ve made a taxi come get you, he’s holding up a sign that reads ‘ass-wipe’.”
“Why ‘ass-wipe’?”
“Because you came in at 3:30am; that’s why.”
“Oh, sorry buddy, see you soon.”

Turning around a rather queer looking fellow is standing right behind me smiling sickeningly. Greeting me he says that he’s been following and watching me since I got off the plane and that he’s very intrigued and slightly interested in getting to know me. I sincerely apologize and say that I’m in a rush but he doesn’t take that for an answer and attempts to grab my shirt.

Running away at full pelt my shirt rips off into his hand and as I turn back to see what he’s doing, he sniffs my shirt, stuffs it down his pants and then chases after me. Quickly making my way over to the exit I see the ‘ass-wipe’ sign and run directly into the taxi driver holding it. Grabbing onto his hand and my luggage I run outside and jump into the first taxi I see. Yelling instructions at the driver we pull out into the traffic and scream forward just losing the creepy stalker behind us.

Nothing much was said in the car just a few simple questions like “are you alright?” and “why are you crying?” I didn’t reply to any of them and he understood, probably did this every second of each day he lived. Upon reaching Alex’s house I jump out of the taxi, run up to his front door, politely knock then barge in and hug the man standing before me.

“James? Dude what’s wrong with you and why are you so clingy?”
“I, I feel terrible! I shouldn’t have just left Michael like this! Man, I should go back, but, that won’t fix anything! Ugh, Alex what would you do?!”
“Heh, well I’d stay here but I ain’t you man…I dunno, you’ll see your friend again.”
“He was more than a friend Alex, he was my brother…”
“Come on, I’ll set up your room for you, calm down.”

“James! Get up now or I’m chopping both your balls off and shoving them down your throat!” Not the best thing to hear first thing in the morning; it seems that last night I passed out on the floor drunk off my own stupidity.

It’s been five years since that day and man do I regret what I did. I suppose I could go back and find Mikey but, it’d be way too late. He would never forgive me for doing what I did.

Following my everyday routine I make my way down the stairs and out into the open of the New York streets. I reach the corner of my work and realise that something’s not right; I get a feeling someone’s watching me. Shrugging it off I continue walking and reach the front door. Opening it I hear the familiar bell ring and my co-workers look up and smile.

It’s halfway through possibly the best day I’ve had so far this year when it happens. He barges in; the same guy from the airport five years ago. He screams something about finding me and getting what he’s wanted for so long and then he does it. As swiftly and as naturally as a bird flaps its wings he grabs it out of his jacket and pulls.

I hear screams, I hear smashing and I hear a heartbeat…all sounds suddenly cease and I see, from my point of view, my body falling to the floor. Snapping back into reality I feel a burning sensation in my chest cavity and sit up off the broken bottles and glasses to see blood pouring out of my slowly dying body.

A fellow employee, Shauna, runs over to me and helps me sit up. She was always my favourite; I could always count on her to be there for me, at any given moment. Coughing wildly she says something about needing an ambulance and that I’ll be alright.
I doubt that highly.

Everything slows down predominantly in my head and as I look around I notice that something’s not right. The stalker’s gone, co-workers are screaming, crying, calling the police and ambulances but there’s something missing.

Then everything goes white and silent.
There I lay, in a million pieces with Shauna’s hand still placed on my stomach, lifeless.