~3~
~10 Years Ago - 1989 - Age 27~
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up, I cannot see
That there's not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now...
-- From the song "One," the album "...And Justice For All" (1988) by Metallica
"Hey, Tommy? Where are ya?" The short fidgety roommate scratched his head and swept his cluttered apartment with his wide but droopy eyes. "It's Willie... Are ya here?"
Passing the kitchen, he noted that his roommate's door was shut. He glanced down at the crack beneath the door, and muttered to himself, "Looks dark enough. Must be asleep."
Dashing back to the front door, he reached out for his new friend's hand, and led her inside. "Come on, it's cool. He's asleep."
She giggled quietly, her hand over her mouth, and followed Willie past the streetlit window to the sagging couch, its cushions as droopy as Willie's eyes.
"Come on, Amber." Pulling the slender Debbie Gibson look-alike towards him, he snuffed out the lamplight with the tug of its chain, and whispered with a taunting grin, "Show me what ya got."
Amber giggled again.
Why me?
Waking with a sudden start and the urge to pee, Tommy grimaced at the sound of metal still banging in his ears. He sat up with a grunt, threw his legs over the edge of his bed, and unstuck the huge Sony headphones from his head. His Blade Runner and Metallica: And Justice For All posters hung at crooked angles in the dim glow of the night light. He always needed a night light. He could never sleep in the total darkness.
The total emptiness...
Half curious and half afraid, he swiped away his long hair and stole a glance at his alarm clock.
It glared "1:01 AM." His quick nap between studies had deluded him into an over-extended doze, and swindled him of his precious time.
"Shit," he grimaced once more. Shit-shit-shit!
Rubbing his reddened ears and sandy eyes, he yanked open the door, and dragged his bare feet across the carpet to the freezing bathroom linoleum. Pulling out his dick, he finally pissed into the bowl, his eyes closing and head falling back in instant relief. Ahhh.
As he shook off the last few drops, he cursed himself. Shit! You gotta fuckin' study!
Tommy flushed the toilet and turned back to his room. But as the flush faded, he suddenly stopped. In the streetlit darkness, he thought he heard something from the living room, something faint but there nonetheless.
"Ahhh! Ahhh!" the unfamiliar voice gasped, "Yeah, like that."
Tommy approached as quietly as a cat. That was a woman's voice!
"Ahhh! Oh God!" she moaned.
"Oh yeah!" the male voice answered, "You like that?"
Tommy dropped his jaw in shock and anger. Is that Willie? Is he fucking on MY couch?
Willie continued with his own oblivious gasps, "Oh yeah, fuck me!"
That fucking bastard!
Finally, with the force of a nuclear bomb, Tommy slammed on the blinding ceiling lights and exploded with screaming rage.
"Fuck you, Willie! You're definitely fucked!"
Like two deer caught in the headlights, Willie and Amber froze in panic. The next moment, Amber scrambled off Willie for her scattered clothes.
"Uh, hey, Tommy," the shorter roommate snatched his undershorts and backed away. "I can explain."
"Explain what, asshole?" the taller dark-haired roommate spat. "You live under my fucking roof, so you're gonna follow my fucking rules. I fucking pay the rent, pay the bills, go to work at a fucking job to pay the fucking shit, go to fucking night class to get a better fucking job, and now I see you fucking on my fucking couch? What the fuck are you gonna explain?" Like laser beams, his blazing eyes focussed on the half-naked girl by the window, then the half-naked bastard on his couch.
"Uh, I'm sorry, Tommy, I didn't mean--" Willie stumbled back, his foot tipping the upright bottle, and gushing the remaining beer onto the carpet.
Tommy seethed, "Shit! Are you fucking drunk too?" And he realized, "Wait, you drank my fucking beer?"
"Ummm, well--"
"That's it, I've had enough of your shit! Get the fuck out!"
"Wait a minute!" Willie pleaded. "We're best friends, best buds. Doesn't that mean anything?"
With a thumb and forefinger, Tommy began to pluck the rest of the clothes, and fling them one at a time at Willie, "Not anymore."
"You're joking, right?" his roommate half-smiled. "Right?"
"Nope. You're gone. Get out." Tommy flung a sweaty sock.
"You don't really mean that. I know you too well."
"Do you really?" He flung the other sock at his roommate's face.
Willie's half smile slowly hardened into a half sneer. "Well, fuck you, Tommy. Fuck you."
Tommy stepped past the girl and jerked open the front door. "I'll be sure to remember that."
As Willie turned to leave, he paused and looked back with his droopy eyes. "You know what? You remind me of your mom. You're a fucking fascist just like her."
With all the inner strength he could muster, Tommy restrained his boiling anger. "Take your whore and get out."
"You fucking fascist! You fucking neo-Nazi fascist!"
"Fuck you," Tommy muttered and shut the damned door. But he could still hear Willie's drunken howls through the wood.
"Neo-Nazi! That's what you are! You fucking neo-Nazi! You fucking neo..."
He closed his brown eyes. What's wrong with the fucking world?
And finally, painfully, the howls faded away.
End of ~3~