chapter 19: another date

I wake up. I’m sitting in my chair in my living room. I decide to add rum to my coffee this morning because I’m feeling stressed for some reason. I don’t know why. I add rum to my coffee and start to drink it. I turn on the tv. There is this show on where people touch each other with these gloves. They are in separate rooms and there is a hole in the wall with those big gloves you use when people are handling something toxic. They touch the other person’s face and part of their body. They can’t see the other person. They just have to feel their face and body and decide if they like them. I think it’s a dating show.

When I finish drinking the coffee and rum I decide to have a beer. I think I’m allergic to something in beer. Every morning when I wake up my stomach feels bad. I should switch to wine and liquor and see if my stomach pain goes away. I think I’ll try that tomorrow and see what happens. I get ready to text the red-haired girl. I think I do miss her, but I can’t tell. I get so anxious thinking about her I can’t tell if I love her or if my heart is going bad. Sometimes my heart races really badly and I think that I’ve probably damaged it somehow. I don’t know how to explain it really. I need to see a doctor. I think I’ll set up an appointment next week. I need to figure out how to look up the right number.

I decide to tell the girl I’ll pick her up later this night. It always helps to push times back a little bit because it helps me relax and think. Sometimes it stresses me out though. I keep putting off taking my car into the mechanic. It makes this really bad noise whenever I use the brakes on a hill. I’m going to take my car to the mechanic by the end of the month. I need to get an oil change as well.

I text the red-haired girl, and tell her I will pick her up at 10:00 pm tonight if she still wants to go to the brewery. She says she does. Then she texts me about this woman who works at an art gallery she goes to every week. She says the woman told her she wants to be an artist. She says the woman has worked at the coffee shop in the art museum for as long as she can remember. Every day the woman looks at the artwork, and every day she watches people look at the artwork, and she sells coffee for minimum wage. I need to figure out how to tell the red-haired girl I want her to be my girlfriend. I write down in a notebook: how do I make you my girlfriend? When you write things down you are more likely to do them. Somebody told me once that if you take internal thoughts and feelings and place them into the physical world that it creates a memory, and it makes you more likely to remember the thing. I don’t really know what it means but it feels nice to write things down.

After I finish writing down notes I go to my fridge and crack a beer. I decide I’m going to watch a movie today and maybe take a nap to really relax my mind so that tonight I am funny and not stressed out. I go into my living room, and then I see them. Three men wearing hats. Black hats. They’re wearing all black. They have gloves. Their faces are covered. They’re staring right at me.

I don’t need to say anything because I already know they are here to do me harm. People say your body reacts to stressors by fight or flight. I’ve never been a fighter. I’ve ran away from everything for as long as I can remember. I don’t plan on starting to fight now. I run into the bathroom and I lock the door. I hear the men laughing.

“Let’s break his shit.”

“This dumbass doesn’t really have anything to break.”

I hear them breaking my tv. Absolutely smashing it.

“I guess you have to read a book now, Dumbass.”

Then I hear them in my kitchen. They open my fridge. “Hey toss me a beer.” They start smashing all my beer on the ground. I hear them laughing again. Then they go into my cabinets. I hear the liquor bottles breaking. They keep laughing.

“This is a nice Iphone. I could use a nice Iphone.”

“Fuck that man. Those things can track you. Smash the motherfucker.”

I hear more things breaking. I hear them laughing. Then I hear my cat hissing. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. If they hurt my cat I’m going to have to fight them. I look around the bathroom for something to hurt them with. I need a weapon.

“Here kitty kitty. I love cats man. Hey give these cats some turkey. They look hungry. Feed them. Give them something to eat. Awwww. You’re cute aren’t you? I just love cats man. They’re so cute. Did you ever meet my cat Niesche? He’s the best cat I’ve ever had.”

“You named your cat Niesche? You really are a smart mother fucker aren’t you? I don’t even know who that is.”

“I don’t have time to lecture you about Niesche right now. But that cat is way smarter than you’ll ever be. Here you go kitty, eat some of this dumb mother fucker’s turkey.”

“Let’s go get that little peeping Tom mother fucker. Teach him not to watch people. Teach him to stay out of other people’s fucking business. I’m gonna teach him a lesson he doesn’t forget.”

Fuck. I don’t have my phone. I can’t call the cops. I hear the men outside my bathroom door laughing. Then they start kicking the door. Damnit. My rental home is shitty. The door is practically cardboard. The lock is shit. They kick the door a few times and then it breaks. I see a black Nike AirMax shoe come through the door. Then gloved hands emerge. Then there is no door. The three men enter the bathroom. I’m sitting in the bathtub. I jump up and try to run past them but one of the men grabs me. They push me down on the ground. They start kicking and hitting me. I feel a sharp flash of pain. On my body. On my head. I cover my head with my hands. I tell them to go away. I tell them they have the wrong guy.

“Nah, we’ve got the right mother fucker. We saw your car pull out of the cemetery. We trailed you back here and waited until the right moment to fuck you up.”

They start laughing and kicking me. I tell them to just leave. I don’t know what they did and I don’t care. I tell them to stop. I’m not going to talk to anyone. I tell them that I was just out there trying to clear my head. They tell me they don’t care. They tell me there are more of them, and they’re coming for me. They tell me they’ll be watching me. They tell me I better watch my fucking back. I feel something in my ribs snap. I feel blood running down my arms and legs. Then I feel them kicking at my head. Then everything goes dark.