Wednesday, December 7, 2011

only a moment

It wasn't until Matt heard the blast that he finally awoke. He'd been in a stupor of some kind. A bad dream. A nightmare. Maybe even a fog. Sort of.

But he swore he heard a flutter. Birds. Flying away. Just like he had too. He knew what he saw. It could have been him. It should have been him. But Matt didn't wait. He flung the back door open. It snapped shut behind him as if he couldn't go back. He wouldn't.

He looked for the birds in the gray sky. Where were they? Were they as quick?

Numbness soon surrounded him. He noticed the snowflakes coming down. He needed fresh air. He needed to think. So he walked. Smoothed the pocket down of his leather jacket. The gun was so warm. Matt blinked. It could have been him. It was suppose to be him.

It was really a peculiar day. He'd met a man at the bar who could sell him a gun. Told him, it was no problem. It was in his glove compartment of his car. Just as long as Matt had the money. And he did. The man had ammo too. He didn't ask what he might do.

"Don't suppose its a gift for the wife?" The old dude finally cracked a joke. His toothless grin, put Matt off, that maybe, maybe he should think about this. But it was decided in his head for some time now. He just needed to do it.

"Maybe it is." Matt said so cool. No more fighting. No more dragging up the past to make him feel bad. It would be done, before night fall.

Sure, he was going to miss a lot of things. Like the kids. Especially, the one, he never really got to know. But then wasn't that the one who started the trouble in the first place? He didn't want to blame it on the kid.

No. It was all his fault. It would always be his fault. No matter how Ruthie could act like it didn't matter. But it did.

Matt kept walking. There was such a chill in the air. One that got to the bone. Winter was here, frigid and numb. Matt imagine a pure white blanket of snow. He wanted to think how new and brilliant it was, but flashes of blood came and went in his mind.

He choked on the thought how the bullet went up. Caught right in the head. Something like that. that..

His eyes darted. He kept moving. He needed something to take this away. Take it all away. Then he'd steady the gun. NO TALKING. Just. Do. It.

Matt felt unnoticeable for a while. It was as if it were he, alone now. No traffic. No kids. Just the vast emptiness of the neighborhood engulfed him. Soon enough, he was at the red light. No one coming. He crossed, heading toward the grocery store.

Really, he hadn't a clue how long he'd walked. He felt a little light headed. Just an ache in the back of his head. But he was OK. Some vodka would do. It would hit him fast. Maybe. He always went for vodka. Everyone thought it was water. He slightly grinned.

He passed by a car in the parking lot. Was that his reflection? In this light? Matt winced. Was that...

He stepped back. Examined what he could make out. His face freckled in blood. Did he dare smear it? A shiver startled him.

He didn't even know Amanda. How could she be? Asa wouldn't even marry her. Oh, she looked sweet enough. She must have been good in bed. Why in the world would have Asa stuck around? Matt wanted to believe he'd done him a favor.

He took a deep breath. Not that he'd meant for it to happen. This gun was not for some random idiot who was trying to save him.

Matt kept staring at himself. He winced tears.

Why? He shook his head. There was no rewinding. There was nothing else he could do. He went into the grocery store.

Matt went to the magazines. Of course, there was someone reality star on PEOPLE, he'd never heard of. He checked for the gun in his leather jacket every few seconds. He didn't want it going anywhere with out him. He looked a men's magazines. PARENTS. They always had to raise the kids like Ruthie wanted.

Suddenly, he was seething. Perhaps. Mad at himself mostly. He looked up to see some stock boy with ginger hair staring at him. The boy backed away as if he'd seen a monster.

Matt turned to find what he came for. But he took a turn at the dog food. There he lingered. It was suddenly so quiet as if no one, but he were in the grocery store. It felt as if time stood still. Almost like a dream.

He'd always wanted a dog. He thought of Rachel's dog. For a second, he imagine stealing a truck, stealing the dog, and it would be freedom. He smiled. Wishing that could be it. But it wasn't. It would never be. Nothing would ever be what it once was.

He felt sick to his stomach. His left eye started to hurt for the strangest reason. If only he'd stayed in bed today. But then, he didn't have a bed. Someone's couch. Nothing was his anymore.

Finally, he found the shelves of booze. He needed the cheap stuff. Who in the hell could afford CAPTAIN MORGAN? Matt rolled his eyes.  He looked at the rum. The special whiskeys. Just as he was about to reach for his cheap brand of vodka, he noticed who found him. There were 3 cops approaching him.

Matt shoved his hands in his coat pockets of his black bomber jacket.

It was as if they already knew. They knew everything. Didn't they?

If only it were a video game, he knew he might have a fighting chance. But did he even want one? He drew the pistol. And he went down just like shattered glass.


Cafe Fashionista said...

This week is a series of gripping installments. I am dying (no pun intended) to find out what happens next! :)

meg said...

So much I want to know about him now. How he could be this depressed. I feel so bad for him. I feel so sad for Amanda, too.

Evs said...

nice :)

ivy's closet said...

So sad.

Winnie said...

Oh wow such drama! I love the way you ended this chapter, so dramatic.

lucy and sarah said...

Matt, so misunderstood and complex.