I open up the door and open the bulkhead from the inside. The night outside is still and dark and I can hear crickets chirping all around.
I go over to the bed and grab her by the ankles. I think about just picking her up an my arms and carrying her, but I don’t want to get pee on my clothes, and god forbid she snaps back to life, I’d have a fucking stroke!
I drag her across the floor on her back to the bottom of the stairs of the bulkhead. I walk her up the stairs, like you move an extended ladder, rocking side to side while stepping backwards. Outside, in the dark, her chest and face are dragging in the dirt. I get her to near the lid of the old septic tank and I realize that I’ve never opened it up before. I leave her there and the light from the bulkhead is spilling out into the dark and I think, “Oh fuck. Mosquitoes are gonna get in.” while I go around to the side of the house to where my car is parked.
I unlock the trunk and fish out the crowbar for the hubcaps and heft it in my right hand and close the trunk lid with my left.
I walk back over to her and the lid and I pop the lid. It gives pretty easy and with a little grunt I get it over to the side.
I look down into the hole and all I see is darkness.
I flip her over and she looks all scuffed up and dirty but even then under the fingernail paring of a moon’s light she still looks pretty. It’s a shame she’s dead. We could have had some fun, but I’m not into corpses. That’s just icky.
Shit? Piss? Dead bodies? No thanks. I’m all set.
I grab her under her arms and I slide her body over so her head is in the hole and it tilts back into the darkness with her shoulders on the edge. It would have made a great picture.
I straddle her over the torso in front of the opening and kind of feed her into the hole. First her shoulders slide in and her arms slump in and down, then her back arches and her butt catches on the rim and one last push and her butt clears the edge and in she goes with her legs wagging like a fish tail. She hits the bottom like a pile of laundry landing on a pile of leaves.
I stand up and catch my breath, then look down at the black opening and then up at the moon and then I put the lid back on and take the crowbar with me and go back in the bulkhead closing it behind me.
Back in the basement I look around and realize that I’ve got some more shit I have to get rid of so I gather up all of her things and I put them all in a shopping bag and that finished I stop and wipe my brow and I’m startled to realize that my hands smell like her. That was surreal.
I decide not to go back through the bulkhead and instead to go out the side door.
I pop the lid again and for a split second I expect her to leap out at me like a tiger through a fucking hoop but that’s just stupid. She’s fucking dead and the tank is eight feet deep. I hold the bag over the hole and drop it. Swoosh! Nothing but net. I can’t tell if the bag hits her when it lands. I think, “Insult to injury.”, and chuckle to myself while putting the lid back on.
Back inside I get naked and take a shower.
I go to lay down and get some sleep and I remember the piss on the mattress.
I strip off the sheet and spray the mattress with disinfectant and figure that ought to do it and flip it over and don’t bother putting on another sheet. The pillows smell like her hair and it’s a little weird and in some small way makes me miss her. I think about what I did. Not that I feel sorry, but I think about the effects. Will her parents call her in missing? Will they trace her to me? Will the cops come by? Will they know I’m guilty? Will they search the house? Will they find her in the septic tank? I make a conscious decision to stop letting my imagination get away with me. What’s done is done and there’s no going back. I would have rather not have killed her, but that’s what happened and chasing myself in circles isn’t going to help anything. I had a long night, I fell asleep.
I dreamed that I was asleep and she called my name and I woke up and she’s standing at the end of my bed and she’s all pale and scuffed up and she looks pissed and I’m scared and I feel like I’m suffocating, then I woke up for real and I whipped around to look at the end of my bed and she’s not there and I said, “Whew!”. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was her ghost. Either way I went back to sleep and slept till morning.
The next day at work I kept expecting a couple of cops to show up in the doorway of my office. Like in TV. “You have the right to remain silent…”. “Hey! Officers! What’s this about?”. They slap the cuffs on my wrists, “Anything you say may be used in court against you. You have the right to an attorney…”. But they didn’t show up and I just did my work, killing time until they did.
Each night after work I’d go home and read a book and I expected the cops to come pounding on my door but they didn’t. Not even a phone call.
After about a week I kind of shrugged and said fuck it. If they’re not all over me already then I’m probably scot free. I figure it’s not worth wasting time over and I decide to go out and get a drink.
I go to the Mexican restaurant that my friend and I used to go to and it’s weird to be there without her, but it’s refreshing like there’s a weight off of my shoulders.
I get seated and “cowgirl” was my waitress. Life was fucking good.
She comes over to take my order and she smiles and asks, “Where’s your lady friend at?”.
I smile and shrug and say, “How the hell should I know? I’m not the boss of her.”.
I order a Corona Light and the chicken enchiladas and when she drops off the beer I smile and say, “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” and I give her a smile and she smile back and I think I’m hot shit. I poke the lime wedged into the bottle and put my thumb over the mouth and tip it upside down so the lime rises to the top and then flip it rightside up and the air puffs out with a little spray like it always does and I drink half the beer in one breath. Life was fucking good.
Cowgirl comes back with the food and I tip the empty beer bottle towards he and she asks, “Another?” and I reply, “You set ‘em up and I’ll knock ‘em back.” and she laughs and rolls her eyes and takes the bottle and comes back with a fresh one. She turns to leave and I say, “Hey! Wait a minute! We never had the chance to talk. What do you do when you’re not flinging fajitas.”
She laughs and smiles and says, “I don’t know.”
I ask, “What do you mean you don’t know?” and she’s standing there with her hands in her pockets and twisting one toe. Fucking casebook. I got her hooked.
I say, “Tell you what. When this place slows down let’s go out and have a couple drinks.”
She says, “Um. I don’t get off until after closing time.”
I say, “So what? You’re not allowed to drink after closing time?
She says, “I gotta go.” and I say, “So? Go!” and take a swig of beer and smile and raise an eyebrow.
I eat my food and it tastes great and I have another beer and it tastes great and I get my check and I tip cowgirl $20 and mover over to the bar and the bartender is a fucking hoot, and we’re trying to one-up each other with bad taste jokes about battered women and dead babies and minorities and I’m only paying for every other beer and I’m ignoring cowgirl because I don’t want to give her the creeps, and it gets to be last call and it’s a few couples, and a bunch of rugby dudes and the staff and me and the couples all take off and the rugby dudes are all friends with the staff so it’s the staff and me and the rugby dudes and it was a good night for the restaurant so the bartender makes a big fucking pitcher of margaritas and we all split it and I’m all slurry and messy drunk and cowgirl sits on the barstool next to me and she’s all drunk too because she’s been sneaking drinks all night. Not like she’s really been sneaking them because the bartender set them up for her. It’s just that kind of place. The line cooks would take breaks and go out and burn a j and cook stoned and the waitstaff would all do tequila slammers every other trip to the bar and everyone was having a good time.
We burn through three pitchers of margaritas and the bar
tender says he ain’t making any more and starts good-naturedly telling people to go home, you assholes, and I know the night can’t last forever. So I grab my coat and I think I said, “A good evening to you.” to cowgirl and kissed her on the cheek and I drunk walk over to my car and I blearily get the keys into the lock and I drive home on autopilot and when I get home I realize I don’t even remember the drive home and I stagger into the house and plop down on the bed and everything feels warm and fuzzy and I forget all about the septic tank and what’s inside and I fall asleep smiling contentedly.
I didn’t bother following up on cowgirl. I’ve never had any luck picking up waitresses. They get it from all sides every day and now all of the staff know who the fuck I am and whatever. Maybe that’s just my rationalization for chickening out but whatever, she probably has a boyfriend anyway.
Halloween has always been my favorite time of year as long as I can remember.
I got a job doing character make-up at this haunted house theme park.
It was a pretty fucking big deal and there was a whole crew of make-up people and when we finished doing everyone’s make-up we had to make each other up and fill in for whoever bagged out that night. The chick from the ‘pit and the pendulum’ scene calls out? One of us had to go under the blade. The clown house is missing an emcee? One of the make-up crew was king clown for the night.
More often than not it was cool, but sometimes it sucked.
One night they needed a Dead Elvis. The Dead Elvis had to stand outside the port-a-johns and make sure no one fucking vandalized them. Get it? Elvis died on the toilet. Dead Elvis. Port-a-johns. Right. Not exactly fucking hilarious. More like a bad pun. I knew that gig was gonna suck but I took one for the team. I split the gig with a girl that was done up like a 1950 style girl-gang zombie. You know, in a pink satin jacket and whatnot. The dude that did my make-up sucked and people kept asking me if I was Evel Kneivel.
The girl-gang outfit had a miniskirt and the chick was cold so I let her sidle up to me and mooch heat.
We got to talking and she tells me she plays keyboard in, like, a horror rock band and I start to dig her and later on somehow we’re talking sex and she’s like, wondering why more guys don’t want to bang her in the ass because she really doesn’t mind it, in fact sometimes she likes it, and I figure it’s on and I’m in.
The night ends and we decide to go back to my place. We stop at a gas station to get cigarettes and she doesn’t have cash and they don’t take credit unless you spend, like, $20, so I buy her a pack and she kisses me long and hard on the mouth and I get a semi and I figure this is going to be a pretty cool night.
We get back to my place and we’re still wearing our fucking monster make-up and she asks if she can take a shower and I say sure and give her a towel.
She steps out of her shoes then takes off all of her clothes and goes into the bathroom and the shower runs and I figure I am so getting laid tonight.
She comes out and she’s naked and drying her hair with the towel and she asks me if she can borrow a t-shirt. I give her my Shogun Assassin t-shirt and she puts it on and passes me off the towel and I go in and take a shower.
When I come back, she’s watching Evil Dead and I compliment her choice and she says she’s never seen it and I tell her she’s culturally retarded. I put on some loose sweatpants and I get into bed with her and we watch the movie and make out a little and I discover that her clit has a big old fucking bar pierced through it and it’s got square ends like dice and I don’t know what to do with it because I don’t want to accidentally fucking hurt her and she jerks me off a little but we don’t make a big deal out of it and when the movie’s over we just fall asleep with me spooning her.
The next day we wake up and we just hang out in the basement in our jammies all day. We watch, like, a dozen horror movies and we play with each other on and off. She puts me in her mouth, but she’s got a tongue piercing that matches her clit piercing and the cube is really fucking distracting and I can’t make it so she gives up and she keeps on twisting around so I can’t get my fingers into her or get on top of her and it’s kind of fun but kind of frustrating.
She says she wants someone to pretend to break into her house and rape her. My immediate reaction is that it’s a great idea. But then I think about the logistics and it doesn’t seem like such a good idea. She lives with her parents and what if they decide to come home from work early or stay home sick or what if the neighbors see me standing outside of the house cutting open a window screen in a fucking ski mask and they decide to call the cops. That would probably require a little bit of explaining, so I tell her I’ll think about it, when I’ve already made up my mind.
The third day I’m just frustrated and I’m kind of getting sick of her and I’ve already seen all of my horror movies that she’s watching and I’m being kind of sullen so I just smoke a lot and find shit to do around the house. Her tits are kind of floppy and I’m sick of looking at them and they’re fucking pierced too and I’m pissed off that she’s got metal shot through all of her erogenous zones and I imagine she’s like some kind of cyborg killer prostitute and it makes me laugh to myself and she asks me what’s so funny and I just sigh and say, “Oh, nothing.” but I really want to just put knives in her eyes or hit her over the head with the crowbar or just choke the shit out of her and dump her into the septic tank with the other one but everyone knows we took off together and it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to lead the cops back to me when she shows up missing and since I was on payroll all they’d have to do is look me up in the database and the whole jig would be up. Cops would be all over the place with fucking corpse sniffing dogs and I’d probably get murdered before I ever saw trial.
That night is a haunt night so I drop her off at her house and I go to work at the haunt and we don’t work together and I just kind of avoid her and she ends up going out with the brother of the guy that runs the place and they’re all over each other, like all the time, and it kind of sucked. Not that I was jealous, but it just wasn’t something that I wanted to see.
I’m good and angry and I want to take it out on someone like right now.
Back when I had a LiveJournal I subscribed to all sorts of random chicks.
LiveJournal wasn’t the best way to meet chicks.
It was kind of a pain in the ass and most of the new girls you added were friends of girls that were already inter-subscribed so it was tough to run game without word getting around like high school gossip.
Right before I dropped my LiveJournal for good due to complications which arose when I tried to fuck my girlfriend’s friend…
Well, she was asking for it. The friend that is. We’d hang out and get drunk and she’d tell me that her boyfriend didn’t fuck her like a real man and she wanted to be fucked for real and then she’d look me in the eyes and I figured she meant me. Then the next day I send her a message to follow up like to make plans to come over and really put the spurs to her and she makes like she was all drunk and didn’t know what she was saying and rats me out to her friend, the girlfriend.
Fucking cooze.
Anyway, right before I deleted my LiveJournal I added some random chick from Texas.
I liked her icon picture so I figured why not?
She didn’t get back to me and I deleted my LiveJournal, but she found me on MySpace and told me she had been away on a cruise for, like, a month, which was why she hadn’t added me, but she had wanted to add me so she found me on MySpace.
So we stay in touch over the internet.
She reads my blog and I read hers.
She’s in and out of relationships and I am too.
I get a job where I’m sitting at a desk a lot and I have a computer with the internet so I set up an AOL IM account and she and I message back and forth and sometimes the chat gets a little sexy. A little dirty. But it’s not like there was anyone looking over my shoulder so what the fuck who cares?
She had a webcam and she’d send me little sexy
pictures. She was really cute and flirty and sexy and if she didn’t live so far away we could have a really good time.
We traded numbers and she’s call me on the phone and sometimes it was fun and sometimes it was annoying. Sometimes she’d whine about how we should be together and how she’d move to where I lived or how I should move to where she lived so we could be together. Other times she’d talk me into doing phone sex for her and she’d masturbate while I told her what I’d do to her if I ever got ahold of her. She wanted me to jerk off at the same time, but although I did get hard thinking about what I’d do to her I could never really get into jerking off with a phone held up to my ear.
I got a webcam and we’d send pictures back and forth. She kept trying to set it up so we could, like, videoconference and interact, but the technology sucked and it never worked and always just ended up being a waste of time and effort that was just frustrating and pissed me off.
Over time she gets around to asking me if I want to marry her and I said I would, but only in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator. And I would have too. I figured getting married wouldn’t really fuck anything up and then I’d just make her get a divorce and then I’d be divorced which would be kind of cool in a jaded sort of way.
She gets it into her mind that she really wants to meet me in person so we make plans for her to come up and stay with me for a week or so.
The first time she’s got a boyfriend that she’s playing break-up make-up with and he convinces her that I just want to fuck her and talks her out of coming up.
Granted it’s true, but I don’t let her know that and I’m pissed off because I paid for the plane ticket and took a week off of work and when I cancel the flight the fucking plane company won’t refund my ticket. Instead they offer me credit, but only in the name of the person the ticket was for, and I figure there’s no way that I’m buying another plane ticket for this cunt so I tell the lady on the phone to forget about the credit and to go fuck herself and that I’m never using their services again,
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