My vision is trying to adjust its function like a newly wake from a nap as he freed my eyes from a handkerchief.
You’ve witnessed everything so I’m fattening you with these two plain doughnuts and diet coke. Soon, when I have the mood to savor as you pray for your fate, I’ll let you out of the scene.
I can still feel the rough fibers of rope tighten my wrist even though it was unleashed. A man with his pineapple hairstyle and a proudly revealing tattoo of Jesus Christ on his neck greets me with a baleful glance.
Take your last supper, Sweetie.
I look straight at his cold and seem gentle eyes accentuated with heavy dark eyeliner. He leaned against the wall as he deep his half pleasured cigarette on the ashtray and meet my eyes.
I live with panic attacks since I can remember before I learn the word Anxiety. How ironic it is that I can’t feel my hands tremble to squeeze cold sweat and how my heart beats calmly even if I’m in front of a man dolling his gun.
What Do you want from me, I said raggedly.
Well, you’re the only one who’s there at that poor grocery store when I let the cashier fall. And before I indulge the treasure I got,
You are next!
He echoed the three syllables with his low bass voice.
I stared at the untouched coke bottle sweating its coldness as it sits on a coffee table between us. Trying to seek words from the room's still air, I brushed my arm tracing the scars I’ve made when I engrave my razor blade.
Do you know how many attempts I tried to end my life?
How many times I tried to let the burden of my body dangling on the ceiling
Or lock me in my room and gulp down a collection of assorted medicines?
So, you’re a crybaby. He interrupted.
I gave him a wry smile.
If you’ll kill me right now, just don’t leave traces of my identity. At least, I’ll leave this fucking world as an innocent and not a coward one who committed suicide.
He smiled with assurance as he points his gun at me.
*****************
Inserted Nov. 12, 2020
I died a thousand times but for you only one word defines me. 'CRAZY'