Karma 's A BITCH

His shoes made scraping sounds as he stumbled on the pavement and the trees loomed in black silouettes in the headlights. Blurry white lines and yellow dashes flickered in and out of focus. The air felt cool and his sweat oozed out of his pores edged with steroids and vodka. It was the drugs, he told himself. No, it was her. Stupid bitch. Screwing up his brand new car and where was that rim key? The ocean roared a distant rumble and it all seemed strange. Why did his lip hurt so much...salt surrounding his tongue? A ringing of high-pitched screams in his ears and scratch marks on his forearms. He ran his tongue over his teeth once more. Salt. It was blood. Tires flat and lifeless on his brand new car...where was that key to the rim? Wait, where was she?

His head felt heavy, soggy with the steroids and confused by the drugs and alcohol. Those fucking bitches! Leaving him at he side of the road. Wait. Did they really leave? No, he refused to get in. After he beat her up. He felt so bad and couldn't take the ride. He didn't trust himself and they surely didn't trust him. So now what? Just keep walking toward home, and figure out the rest later. The hum of rubber on pavement was bearely audible as he felt an iron wall slam into his back. Like a boomerang in the air his body arched and flew over the car, bones and cartilidge contracting and breaking against the force. Nothing seemed real, not even the searing blade of pain cutting deep into his conscious thought. And then it went dark.

Slowly his eyes opened, and everything was dim and the light was tinged with jaundice. The smell of bleach and stale piss permeated the air, and a low voice chanted a prayer. A single white square floated above his head, ringed in black. (" Last rights quote" end quote.) They were there. He wasn't sure if it was a dream or if it was death. But they were there. More importantly, she was there. Everyone was gathered around the steel rails of his sterile coffin, and he couldn't say a word. He just sucked air throught the oxygen tubes in his burning throat, and groaned. He looked up as if he were underwater gazing up at the sun and he willed his legs t move. They didn't. Everything was muted, garbled, quiet and removed. What did he do to deserve this?

She looked down at his bloody and crushed face; he had a black hole for a mouth. Who was this man who had been so beautiful and powerful? All those white square teeth were gone now. His blond thatch of hair was stained to rust. He had ruled her, dominated her, scared her, loved her, hurt her. He drove, just hours earlier and swung. That's how the whole damn thing started. His anger and the party. "Let's just go," he growled. "But baby, it's late and we're so far away!" But he wanted to drive home. So she aquiesced.