9. The Last Supper

If there’s anything nice about being in a lot of trouble, it’s knowing that it won’t last forever.  I remember one time I got in a car accident and I just knew my foster Dad was really going to make me pay for it.  And he did.  But as I laid there while he let me have it, I knew at some point, whether it was 20 minutes away or a year later, things would be back to normal.  But the situation I’m in right now probably isn’t going to get better.  In fact, it could only get worse. 

Candice wasn’t standing there pointing the gun at my face.  She had turned into someone else.  She stood there with nothing behind her eyes as she chewed on her lip.  I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat back, leaned against the bed and tried to get comfortable.  “You did this,” she said quietly.  “You did all of this.  What have you done to me?  You’ve ruined everything.”  Her hand began to tremble.  If it was rage, I was in trouble.  If it was sadness or fear, I had a chance.

My stomach growled.  After all of this I was still starving.  “You see!”  Candice yelled, responding to my stomach.  “Something is seriously wrong with you.  I was your friend and I was trying to help and now look at this.  Well, I’m not throwing away my life just because you’re a freak.”  This had to be fear talking.  I just needed her to cry or something.  I needed her to do anything that would distract her for just a moment so I could jump at her and get her gun. 

“I’m going to shoot you in the side of your head.  I’m gonna put the gun in your hand they’re gonna think you did all of this.  I’m not going to jail forever for you.  You crazy bitch.”  God damn I was hungry and this is getting boring.  “I get it.  Just fucking finish your speech and shoot me,” I said, licking some of the crusted blood off my lips.  “Fuck you!”  She screamed.  She took a step closer to me and that’s all I needed.

I lunged at her like a rattlesnake and grabbed her arm.  I sank my teeth into her forearm until I felt bone and she let out a banshee scream.  The gun fell to the ground and before it bounced, I had pushed Candice to the wall and picked up the gun.  I stood up on my feet which was difficult because of my rotted foot, but I held my ground.  Candice was slow to get up, because she knew she just got pwned.  Now came the waterworks.  “What are we doing?” she cried.  “We’re supposed to be friends.  This is insane.”  I shook my head.  All I could do was tell her the truth.  “I’m sorry Candice,” I said.  “I’m just so hungry.”

It looked like a water ballon full of red paint and dog food was thrown against my wall when I shot Candice in the head.  I had never fired a gun before.  It’s like holding a roman candle but with a lot more oomph.  It was also really loud.  As Candice laid on the ground, painting my floor a different shade of red than Eesha, and as the ringing in my ears began to fade, I could hear the comforting sound of police sirens.  Most people hate or fear that sound, but I think the sirens are comforting.  It means help is on the way.  I might as well have a snack before they get here.  It’s going to be a long night and after all this exercising, I was ready to eat.

I limped into my kitchen, taking my time.  It was so quiet and you could hear the floor creak with every step I took.  My heart was still thumping in my throat which was sore from all the screaming, so I grabbed my butcher knife so I wouldn’t have to rip everything out with my teeth.  As I held the cheap steel, I looked over my body.  I was real hungry and needed something thick and filling.  I’ve always liked my legs so I didn’t want to ruin those.  I’ve always had a small chest, which may have caused my abridged acting career, so there wasn’t much to eat there either.  But underneath my chest was where the money was: My heart.  After the cardio workout I just finished, I’ve got a rock-solid ticker.  And boy, that sounds pretty fucking amazing right now.

The butcher knife cut through my chest bone easier than I thought it would.  I sawed through it the best I could and once my arm got tired, I cranked the knife clockwise like a screwdriver.  I held the knife in place with my teeth and was able to make a cavity large enough for my hand to reach in and grab my pounding heart.  It was warm and had the texture of a stiff tongue.

Before I pulled it out, I briefly reflected on the current situation.  It’s really quite funny if you look at it.  Two weeks ago all I cared about was getting a part in a movie and making enough money to pay my rent and buy a meal.  But now I realize none of that mattered.  I’m in love, I have the best friend in the world, and have a woman who looks after me like her own daughter.  Nothing could be better than that.  And with that thought in my head, I pulled out my heart and ate as much of it as I could before falling asleep.  Everything went to black.  It was warm and quiet and that was nice.  Nothing was wrong anymore.  And to top it all off, I had just finished the best meal I ever ate. 

The End.