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Cigarette BurnsThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Kenneth | |
| Thursday, 31 January 2008 | |
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Share it:      Cigarette Burns It was night now. It had been a long time coming. He had been lying there in the dark for almost six hours by this point. Awake the entire time. Just thinking and smoking and drinking. He wondered how drunk he was and if the room would begin to spin when he stood up. He wished he could fall asleep, but despite the fact it had been three days since he had and he wasn’t tired, he didn’t expect to. He lit another cigarette and took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the nicotine take its sweet effect. But it didn’t. He felt nothing. The last time he had woken up he had a girlfriend. Quite possibly THE girlfriend. But that was done now. She was gone. In a blaze of glory and sex with other guys. Good ******* luck to her. He had known from the start it wouldn’t work out in the long term. She loved someone else and always had. He knew fine well he wasn’t going to be the one to change that for her, he wasn’t nearly good enough. But despite all this it still hurt like a bastard. Against all better judgment he had fallen in love with her and now he had to deal with that. If he could work out how. The phone rang. “Casey”. He couldn’t deal with that. Not yet. He let it ring out. Didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of hanging up on her. She didn’t need to know how much he was hurting.
Clothes It was morning now. The rain smashed against the window with intent. He had stopped drinking a while ago and as a result his head was hurting like hell. He got up off the bed and started scrapping around on his desk, hunting for aspirin or paracetamol or anything to stop the throbbing. Failure. None left. The phone rang again. “Work”. “Yeah?” “Where are you?” “Home” “What the **** are you doing at home? You should’ve been here 45 minutes ago.” “****. Sorry. Give me a half hour.” He hung up the phone and began looking for something to wear. The wardrobe was empty, save for a few of her things. He looked down to the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and began routing through it for something to wear. He finally settled on the least scummy shirt he could find (the red, emo as hell, one) and his slightly less faded black jeans. He quickly pulled them on and doused himself from head to foot in deodorant.
Rain He stepped out into the rain and the water, mixed with the chilled wind, momentarily washed away the numbness of the last four days. The world always seemed like a strange place when viewed through eyes that hadn’t seen sleep in so long. The surroundings moved as though in slow motion, and the volume of the street, normally so intrusive, was muted. It was as though the universe was deliberately quieting itself so as to fit in with the aesthetic of his melancholy. He watched the people moving around him. Busy, rushing, chatting, smiling. Not so long ago he wouldn’t have noticed or paid them any attention, he would’ve considered himself one of them. But not now. His pain made him feel like he was different from them. Feel like he was less than them. But, more potently, feel like he was more than them. There was no way they could possibly understand the world like he understood it right now. No way they could comprehend the cruelty and the suffering he was being subjected to. He had achieved a higher state of awareness and a lower state of being. Work “You look like hell.” “I haven’t slept in a while.” “How long’s a while?” “4 nights” “Why not?” “Casey left me” “Oh….. You alright?” “No.” “OK. I don’t need you today. Go home.” “I’d rather work.” “Sorry man, I can’t have you serving food looking like that. Go home.”
Casey He slowly trudged up the stairs to his flat. He was soaking wet and as a result looked roughly as miserable as he felt. As he approached the door he began to rake in his pocket for his keys. He slipped the key in the lock and the door swung open before he had a chance to turn it. Casey stood in front of him. She looked amazing. Her blonde hair, hanging to her waist, positively shone. Her eyes dazzled and her smile, supplemented by her cute as hell lip ring, glowed with warmth. The fact that it was tinged with pity almost didn’t matter. “You look like hell.” “So I’ve been told. You look amazing. *****.” She smiled even wider. “How have you been?” “How do you think?” He stared at her for a moment. Her smile faded and a slight look of remorse flashed behind her eyes. He knew she felt bad over what had happened. But he also knew she didn’t regret it and in it’s own way that compounded the hurt and made it worse. “What you doing here Case?” “I needed to get my stuff. Thought you’d be at work.” “They sent me home.” She nodded. Then, she smiled at him again, weakly this time, and walked back into the bedroom and began to pack her stuff into her bag. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. Seeing her again so suddenly, without warning, had replaced the overwhelming numbness with searing pain. He took a cigarette out of his pocket but didn’t light it. She hated it when he smoked around her. He walked back to the bedroom and watched her pack. When she was finished she slung the bag over her shoulder and turned to face him. “That’s me done.” “Yeah.” “Here’s your key back.” He held his hand out and took it from her. It felt heavier than anything he had ever held before. She moved to hug him, but he took a step back. She smiled weakly again then started to walk out. “I miss you like hell Casey. Don’t do this. I love you.” “I know you do….. I really am sorry.” And with that she walked out of the door. He dropped onto the floor in a heap. The tears started to roll down his cheeks. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill his lungs, and waited for the nicotine to take it’s sweet effect. It never did. Copyright 2008 Kenneth |
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