Categories
Short Story

Fun Night Out (short story)

My mind turns on. Where was it before? In sleep. Will this be death, one day, that blackness that was me a moment ago without this wake up? Where am I? My eyes are still shut. Something doesn’t feel right. Maybe every waking up feels like this. Maybe this is that moment of time that I forget in the morning every day, my brain being for a moment like a new born babes as it restarts. No, this is not normal. Why am I sitting? I don’t ever sleep when I’m sitting. What the fuck. Shit, this has nothing to do with sleep. I’m awake now. Fuck. I feel empty. I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m covered in something. Christ.

  1. Let’s be a man. Where the hell am I? Let’s open my eyes. Ok ok. Ok ok. My brain isn’t clicking into gear. Am I thinking rationally. I’m being a baby. I just don’t want to open my eyes. Well, fuck it, now they’re open. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m covered in blood. Jesus shit, is it mine, am I dying, am I in pain? I don’t feel hurt. I feel kind of awake and a bit out of sorts but not hurting. What is going on? What happened last night? Yeah, I was at a bar but where did my night end? I can’t remember. Did I drink that much? Christ. I should have been smarter. I should be smarter. OK. OK. Just let everything be ok today, let all of this just have some simple explanation and I will be better. I’ve learned my lesson right? I cross myself. OK. OK. Where am I? I’ve never been here before. What a fucking shitty room. OK. I’m sitting in a corner and it looks like a studio apartment. Where is this? I’m covered in blood and there is blood covering the room. What has happened? The room is small, cramped and squalid. I don’t want to be here. Empty beer bottles line the kitchen counter. Pictures of long ago celebrities in cheap frames cover the wall. There are boxes full of clothes and paper cluttering every corner. Oh god. And what’s that in that corner. Oh my god, it’s a person. A man. And he’s covered in blood. Oh god oh god. What happened here?
  2. I stand up. Oh shit what a head rush. OK, I’m in a weirder physical state then I thought. Is it this panic that has flooded my mind? I can’t stand right now though. OK. Let’s crawl over and look at this man. I don’t recognize him. He has been stabbed. I….I……I should check for a pulse. Oh…o….oh god. He’s dead. He’s dead. There is no pulse? Am I sure? I’ve never had to check for a pulse before, could I have done it wrong? Maybe I did it wrong. OK let me do it again. No. No. He’s dead. Look at him. Holes all over his body. Blood everywhere. Who is this guy. Oh my god, where is his killer? I need to get out of here. I’m going to be killed next. OK. Let me stand up for real this time. OK. Three, two, one. Here I am. I’m up. Let’s get out of this shit hole. Let this scene just dissolve into some nameless dream, let this not be real. Could this be a lucid dream? I’ve had them before. How did I get here? Maybe this is a dream? I don’t remember getting here. I wish I hadn’t drunk so fucking much. Christ. OK. Well. Well. I can’t pretend this is a dream because what if it isn’t? Let me get the fuck out of here right now. OK. OK. Which door is out. That one is just a door to another room. Where’s my wallet? Just let me get out of here. Wait, there it is. In the corner. In the corner with a fucking bloody knife. I know that knife, that’s my pocket knife. It’s covered in blood.

I’m back on the ground. How did I fall here? Why didn’t my legs keep me up? Why is my knife covered in blood? How would this killer have gotten my knife? Is that the one that he used to murder this fellow? Brain! Fucking work. Fill in these fucking details. Fuck. OK. OK. Let’s get out of here. I’m covered in blood but that’s ok, I’ll get out of here and call the police and they’ll capture the fucking murderer who did this.

No! A flash lights something dark in my mind that I won’t want to see. I don’t want that thought to bubble to the service. Let me look at other spots of my mind. Let me distract myself. I don’t want to confront this idea. It is not something that should be brought up. Oh, but I can’t  keep it at bay. Please, please, please. No, no, no. Oh here it is, like a light switch in pitch black I’m blinded. Could I have stabbed this man to death? I have never committed a crime before in my life, I’ve never even been in a fight. The knife is just for cutting fruit. Yet, there is a man dead here, in the room with me. Here I am covered in blood, carrying my knife that is covered in blood. It can’t be true. I’ve never seen this man before. I’ve never been in this room before. Why did I drink so much? Why would I have gotten so fucked up? Last night was a fun night but what happened? Where are my friends? How could no one have taken care of me? What the hell.

  1. Let me calm down. Time is precious right now. My brain is subtly telling me that I was the one who stabbed this man. I know because unconsciously my fear of a killer barreling through the door and killing me is gone. I must know at some level that I am the killer. Oh my god. I killed a man. I killed this man. Who was he. Ugly wasn’t he? That’s a terrible thought. What’s the difference? I killed this man. I’m a killer, I’m a killer, I’m a killer, a murderer, a sinner, I am Satan I am the devil I will never go to heaven. I am going to go to prison. How could this have happened. What should I do? Can’t I just make this so it didn’t happen? Can’t this just all go away. I am not a bad man, I am not a killer. I may not remember last night but I know myself. Maybe this guy started the fight? Why am I in this apartment? Is this his apartment? Maybe he invited me over for a drink and he wanted to rob me or kill me or something and I just protected myself? OK. That would be less bad. Would I still be a killer? No. No, I would have just been protecting myself.
  2. So what should I do. Should I just call the police and throw myself at their mercy? There must be some evidence that this man was a bad man. But, what if there isn’t? This could destroy my life. I’m supposed to go to work tomorrow. What would my parents think? What other options do I have? I remember seeing on TV a criminal feeding bodies to pigs. Or there is that show where the drug dealers use chemicals to melt a body into a sludge. I can’t do either of those though, that’s not me! What do I do? I don’t exactly have a feed lot of pigs and I’m definitely not some chemist. What do I do? Why can’t this just not have happened? Ok. Ok. Ok. I need fresh air. I need to get away from here. But I’m covered in blood. What if I killed this man in cold blood? What if my drunk self just killed this man for some drunken reason and that would make me a murderer. My life is ruined. I couldn’t have done that. My life is ruined. Why did I drink so much? This all didn’t have to happen.
  3. So what should I do. I want to make this go away. What if I just change my clothes, there must be clothes in the closet. Then, well, well, well let’s be honest brain, what are my options? I could burn this building to the ground and get rid of the evidence and maybe everything would just disappear and be like it was before. What if there are other people in this building, what if they were to become trapped? But there has to be fire escapes and fire alarms. How do I burn this building down if it has fire escapes and fire alarms? What if all I do is draw the authorities attention to here? Could I just clean up the evidence? I can’t remember how I got here though. I must be on some video camera somewhere. Where is a phone? It seemed smart not bringing my phone out last night so that I wouldn’t take the chance of losing it. Who should I call? I only know my mother’s number offhand. I can’t call her. What do I do what do I do what do I do?
  4. Let me be a man. Let me be a man. Let me call the police. Let me tell them the truth, that I was fucking drunk and just don’t fucking know what the fuck fucking happened. Let me be a man. Let me be a man. Let them try to piece all of this together. Fuck it, fuck my life, let it be ruined, whatever, fuck it. If it turns out that I did kill this fucking guy, well, let them lock me up. I should be locked up if I could have done this. OK. Ok. Where is the phone. Let me just act now without thinking this through all the way. Let me just act. Here is the phone and I am dialing and and and, what will happen?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *