Story Sunday: Pt 4


I almost forgot to post this tonight. I had a pretty awesome weekend, and sometimes I get a little forgetful when my mind goes other places. Anyway, I have a few things to say first. This is big for me, but you guys may not care. In the past week, I have gotten over 500 views on my website. This was due to an article that I wrote about our school’s senior cookout/not really a prank thing getting us all suspended. It was complete horse crap, but I felt like writing it because I like to stir stuff up… and I thought I made it clear that it was a joke. I was later informed that parents had actually asked the school if it were true. Whoops. Anyway, 500 views in a week is more than I’ve ever had; it was more than I’d had in like 4 months. So that’s pretty cool.

Honestly, I don’t have much else as of now. I’ll make a big update post with some thoughts on it later, but it is getting late and I’d like to get this posted tonight so my alliteration thing will still work. Here ya go, readers. Here’s Parts 1, 2, and 3 if ya missed em. 

Untitled Pt. 4

I woke early the next morning, before Sam. I was running over the prior night’s events in my head when I realized something: there was still a dead guy on my bed, in my apartment. I hadn’t really thought about what to do with him either. I knew I could always call the cops, but something told me that probably wouldn’t be a very bright idea. I went into the kitchen to make breakfast while waiting on Sam to get up so we could figure out what to do.

I had eggs. Scrambled, I won’t eat them any other way. I don’t know why, I’m just picky like that. Always have been, always will be. I walked into Sam’s living room and turned on the TV. I flipped on ESPN, and proceeded to watch the same episode of SportsCenter four times. I don’t know what the hell was taking Sam so long to get up, but I wasn’t gonna mess with him. Princesses need their rest, especially after the day we just had.

Sometime between the fourth and fifth repeat, I fell asleep again. It was a light sleep, but refreshing at the same time. I woke to the sound of Sam making lunch in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he came in with two plates, each containing a grilled-cheese sandwich and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. We sat and ate in silence. The TV was still running, but Sam switched it to reruns of Andy Griffith. I was never big on the show, but it was Sam’s favorite. Personally, I hate black and white TV shows.

Finally, I decided to break the silence.

“All right, so from what I remember from last night, we got as far as ‘we have a problem,’ correct?”

Sam nodded his head in approval, so I continued:

“Let’s go over the details again. I woke up yesterday, saw a hot chick, and time did its freezy shit. You woke up, had lunch with Kate, and then later met me at the bar. You took home Mrs. Demon, and I got a ride from Mr. Demon. I came here after everything. Sound about right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But you forgot about the part where I ALMOST GOT MY FACE CHEWED OFF! That’s kinda important here!”

“Dude,” I said. “If we’re gonna talk about this then you’ve gotta calm down. It’s not like my night was any better.”

“Your night? YOUR NIGHT? I don’t give a damn about your night, I’m freaked out here! So unless you’ve got any bright ideas you feel like sharing—“

I’m not proud of what I did next. I was getting so angry, so irate at Sam’s nonsense that I picked up the table we were eating on and threw it into the wall. The dishes fell to the floor; the ones that didn’t shatter on impact were cracked, and the silverware let out an ear-piercing clang. I got up and stood over Sam. My face was red from anger. I picked up my best friend of so many years by the collar of his white J.Crew shirt and brought his eyes level with mine.

“Listen here, asshole. We’re in this together, you and me. Whether you like it or not, we’re stuck here until we figure out a plan of action. Obviously there’s something bigger than us going on around here, we just gotta figure out what. Now, enlighten me with all your brilliant suggestions, before I hit you in the face!” I threw him back into his seat, where he stared meekly up at me for a few moments. Then, he began to cry.

Don’t get me wrong here; Sam’s not a puss. The guy won state in wrestling three times and in Mixed Martial Arts twice. Hell, if he wanted to, he could snap me like a twig. He was always so reserved though; I knew he would never even think about it. I began to realize just what our situation was doing to him. If it made him cry, it meant that I should probably be crying too.

I always was the more emotionally stable of the two of us. I probably neglected to mention this earlier, but now is as good a time as any. When we were younger, Sam’s mom got pretty sick. The doctors searched and searched, but could never find out what was wrong. She lived for another year or so afterward, but by the time my best friend was eleven, he was motherless.

Needless to say, he didn’t take it well; who would? Sam wasn’t at school for the next three weeks, and when he finally did show up again he wasn’t himself. It took months and months of therapeutic treatment for Sam to finally get over his mother’s death. Once he got “over it,” he put on a façade he has yet to let go of; ladykiller. I think it’s another way for him to deal with his devastating loss.

Alright, now that that’s outta the way I can continue. Sam wept for a few seconds, looked to me, and said:

“I’m scared! I’ve never been this scared in my life and I’m ashamedtoadmitit but I just don’t know what to do! I mean, where do we even start?”

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “But first things first. Remember that dead guy I told you about in my apartment? Yeah, well, we gotta move him.”

If I had had any notion of what that would entail, I would’ve stopped then and there. But I didn’t, so I told Sam to go to the hardware store and pick up some things; I had some research to do. The plan was to meet back at Sam’s house in twenty minutes, but that was before I saw that fucking baby.


Hope ya liked it this week. One more pre-written installment and then the current and better-author me takes over. Have a good night, everyone. I’m about to listen to music and fall asleep because that’s what the cool cats do.

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