She groaned, ‘just kill me already,’
Peter had just walk thru the door with car keys and a small bag of weed in hand.
‘just… kill me…just end it,’
. Blankets were covering all the windows. All the lights were turned off except for a small spinning disco ball in the center of the living. Bits of white reflected light danced around the living room.
Penny sighed, ‘just do it, just kill me, what’s the point anymore?’
Peter set his keys on the table and closed the door behind him.
It took him a moment to recognize the table had been moved. He picked his keys off the floor realizing the couch has been moved too, and the desk, the loveseat, coffeetable. Some of the artwork been removed, even the neon green cat statue wasn’t where he left it. Or was it? The house was so dark…the disco ball just kept spinning… sprinkling scraps of light around the room… like pieces of confetti.
What happened here? How long had he been gone?
‘Penny penny penny’ Peter mutters fumbling around in the dark. What kind of madness was created in here? He found a chair covered in feathers…or was it silly string? he brushed it off and sat next to a fish tank he had never seen before.
Where did this come from? Where are the fish?
Turning the aquarium light on he finally spotted Penny in the corner, sprawled out on a bean bag buried under blankets and books. Funny kind of creature.
‘just kill me already,’ she whined again.
‘oh I don’t wanna hear it, penny, not again,’
‘I mean it peter, just do it,’ she groaned later, ‘just kill me,’
‘I’m not gonna do it but… why?’
‘because whats the point? What’s the point of living? Life will never be as grand as these novels. Look at them, they are wonderful. The pages and print, the beautiful well-crafted poetic stories. With thought provoking ideas! and then… look at this life, all phony and fuck,’
All phony and fuck, Peter chuckled rocking the freshly rolled joint between his fingers.
All phony and fuck.
He lit the end of it and inhaled, ‘well maybe your phony fuck life will become a grand novel, do you really want me to kill you in the middle of it?’
She sat up, books and blankets falling to the floor, ‘how do you know you would be killing me in the middle and not at the end?’
He exhaled, ‘If I kill you at the end that makes me the bad guy, and I’m not the bad guy,’
‘Fine, so kill me in the middle, whatever,’
‘I cant do that either,’
‘why not?’ she snapped.
Peter shook his head and let the high rush in and he shrugged and stated,
‘Main characters aren’t killed in the middle, Penny…Besides what would I do?…you know…for the rest of the story…without… you?’
Peter shook his head again, ‘Penny,’
‘you wanna come over here and smoke some of this with me?’
‘i think you should, please, you are freaking me out a lil bit,’
‘ok… but you come to me,’