So give me all your poison
Wednesdays.
It was a Wednesday the day Sam died or killed himself to be more accurate. I remember perfectly because if it had been a Thursday it would have been too much of a coincidence and Geoff would have gone mad. I had gone to the movies with Geoff that day because Sam didn’t want to go, he said he was going to stay home and paint something. After the movies Geoff and I went to graffiti some abandoned building near Queens. Everything else is kind of blurry.
It was like my life was suddenly put in slow motion but everything around me was moving in fast forward. It’s hard to explain. It harder still to accept I didn’t see it coming, or more truthfully that I saw it coming but I never thought it would really happen.
I don’t really remember how I found myself standing in the bathroom doorway frozen as I stared at Sam’s dead body. What I saw next I can remember as a photograph stored forever in my mind. He had been sort of clean about it, no pill and booze bottles lying around, no vomit just a big red blood puddle, a single syringe and a rubber tube lying next to his arm; his brains splattered all over the white tiled shower wall. His blood was uncannily bright against his creamy white skin gleaming softly under the bright lights like ivory and it’s the contrast between the colours which drove me crazy. Blood on the snow, eaten by the wolfs, the perfect death. I don’t recall screaming either but apparently I did because the whole building came up to see what was going on.
What happened next is even harder to remember. Apparently I was dragged outside where I puked in a potted plant and then taken into the police and asked all sorts of questions. It was as if I had been jerked outside my body and I could see myself answering the questions, like in a k-hole, except I felt completely numb to everything.
No, I don’t do drugs. Yes he was my boyfriend. Yes I’m underage, only turned 18 last April. No, I didn’t know he was suicidal. No, I don’t know where he got the drugs. I live in New York because I’m a photography student. No, I don’t know where to reach my parents but you can call here. No, I didn’t even knew we had a gun.
The officers kept trying to pour me coffee into my already full mug glancing at me with a mixture of pity and revulsion and the coffee just kept lying there getting cold. Like Sam’s body. All I could really think about as I half lied my ass off was where are they taking Sam? I had suddenly become very aware of my heartbeat. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. I could feel the blood rushing into my atria, lub, into my ventricles, dub, out pumped into my body. Life was being pumped into me with every beat.
Panic flowed into my bloodstream as I realized Sam’s heart is never beating again and that’s all it takes to die. Against all self control my eyes become watery and air keeps entering painfully into my lungs. I could picture the officers dirty hands as they dragged Sam Stupid junkie… shooting himself… sick fuck… I was going to be sick again, I wheeled around exited the room running to the nearest bin. Bile came pouring out burning my throat as I fought back tears and I felt a warm hand pat my back and get a hold of my long hair. It was Geoff.
“That’s it kid. Let I out.” I collapsed to the floor crying hopelessly.
I never knew why they let me go but next thing I knew I was sitting on the backseat of this old beaten car being drove to Jersey. That guy Gerard was at the driver’s seat eyeing me worried, his hazel eyes full of what might have been concern, Geoff was at the passenger’s seat trying to pull himself together smoking a joint and staring at the road. Geoff was big on joints. The backseat is full of empty booze bottles, scrapped paper and art books .I eye the bottles wearily, finding a half empty whiskey flask. Chugging down half it’s contents down along with my last two yellow jackets I wait praying against my will for the world melt around me and my heartbeat to slow down or even stop, like Jem’s or Sam’s.
It was like my life was suddenly put in slow motion but everything around me was moving in fast forward. It’s hard to explain. It harder still to accept I didn’t see it coming, or more truthfully that I saw it coming but I never thought it would really happen.
I don’t really remember how I found myself standing in the bathroom doorway frozen as I stared at Sam’s dead body. What I saw next I can remember as a photograph stored forever in my mind. He had been sort of clean about it, no pill and booze bottles lying around, no vomit just a big red blood puddle, a single syringe and a rubber tube lying next to his arm; his brains splattered all over the white tiled shower wall. His blood was uncannily bright against his creamy white skin gleaming softly under the bright lights like ivory and it’s the contrast between the colours which drove me crazy. Blood on the snow, eaten by the wolfs, the perfect death. I don’t recall screaming either but apparently I did because the whole building came up to see what was going on.
What happened next is even harder to remember. Apparently I was dragged outside where I puked in a potted plant and then taken into the police and asked all sorts of questions. It was as if I had been jerked outside my body and I could see myself answering the questions, like in a k-hole, except I felt completely numb to everything.
No, I don’t do drugs. Yes he was my boyfriend. Yes I’m underage, only turned 18 last April. No, I didn’t know he was suicidal. No, I don’t know where he got the drugs. I live in New York because I’m a photography student. No, I don’t know where to reach my parents but you can call here. No, I didn’t even knew we had a gun.
The officers kept trying to pour me coffee into my already full mug glancing at me with a mixture of pity and revulsion and the coffee just kept lying there getting cold. Like Sam’s body. All I could really think about as I half lied my ass off was where are they taking Sam? I had suddenly become very aware of my heartbeat. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. I could feel the blood rushing into my atria, lub, into my ventricles, dub, out pumped into my body. Life was being pumped into me with every beat.
Panic flowed into my bloodstream as I realized Sam’s heart is never beating again and that’s all it takes to die. Against all self control my eyes become watery and air keeps entering painfully into my lungs. I could picture the officers dirty hands as they dragged Sam Stupid junkie… shooting himself… sick fuck… I was going to be sick again, I wheeled around exited the room running to the nearest bin. Bile came pouring out burning my throat as I fought back tears and I felt a warm hand pat my back and get a hold of my long hair. It was Geoff.
“That’s it kid. Let I out.” I collapsed to the floor crying hopelessly.
I never knew why they let me go but next thing I knew I was sitting on the backseat of this old beaten car being drove to Jersey. That guy Gerard was at the driver’s seat eyeing me worried, his hazel eyes full of what might have been concern, Geoff was at the passenger’s seat trying to pull himself together smoking a joint and staring at the road. Geoff was big on joints. The backseat is full of empty booze bottles, scrapped paper and art books .I eye the bottles wearily, finding a half empty whiskey flask. Chugging down half it’s contents down along with my last two yellow jackets I wait praying against my will for the world melt around me and my heartbeat to slow down or even stop, like Jem’s or Sam’s.