“Bonita, I’m back.” I opened the closet where I’d left her with a bowl of water and food.
“Bonita?” I bent and gently touched her soft fur that was matted and cold. “Oh, Bonita. What happened?”
“She got what she deserved.”
No one deserves this.
Her eyes were closed and her body was limp. “What have I done?”
Shame crept over me. I’m too much like my dad.
“Stop freaking out.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s dead. My cat’s dead.”
“It’s a cat, not a child.”
I rubbed my hand over my bald head. I still couldn’t believe I’d shaved it. Everything was spiraling out of control.
“That’s a little extreme. Your cat died. Big deal.”
But it was. It was another loss. And the more that David couldn’t get that, the greater the distance between us grew.
“Bonita, I’m so sorry.”
I went to the kitchen and grabbed the trash can and the broom. Bonita was heavier than I remembered. I carefully yet sturdily brushed her body into the garbage.
I didn’t think it was possible to hurt more than I already did. My breakup stripped me raw.
I loved her. I thought she was the one. God, I really loved her.
“Love? You’re joking, right?”
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”
“I’ll be quiet once you get this shit out of your system. Fuck, just write about it. And now that the stupid cat’s gone, you have no more excuses.”
“Bonita wasn’t stupid. If I hadn’t listened to you, she’d still be alive.”
“Bullshit. You hated her as much as I did. She took from you. She always took from you. Everyone takes from you.”
I reached for the bottle on top of the refrigerator, broke the seal, and drank greedily. The sooner the amber-colored liquid got in me, the sooner everything would fade to black.
“Fuck this.”
I couldn’t agree more.
I opened my laptop and started typing, only this time I changed the title of my entry from “A Killer’s Journal” to “A Killer’s End.”
A Killer’s End
Every day I feel alone. My family has always been there for me, but my loneliness gets the better of me. I’ve always been betrayed by those who are closest to me, so I never fully feel committed to family or anyone who attempts to help me through life. Once I trust someone, it’s only a matter of time before they stab me in the back. Or worse, break my heart.
Love is too heavy a price. It always brings sacrifice and despair. For all the love I’ve given, I’ve never truly received the benefits of its warmth. I’ve fought so hard to keep afloat in the darkness that always surrounds me, but every time I believe in the love of others, it only betrays me.
The only person you can depend on in this world is yourself. Once you lose sight of that, you’re truly lost. Friends are an illusion. Even David. He’s just another crutch so I don’t have to face the grim reality that my life is meaningless. The only thing an individual can rely on is their own personal strength and how they do without someone. And the truth is I really don’t have anyone.
The bottle of Wyoming whiskey beside me was a gift. And tonight it did exactly what I needed it to do.
I write so much better when I’m intoxicated because the fear of those reading my work disappears.
I normally write these entries when I’m drunk. It allows me to release feelings that are usually too much for me to handle when I’m sober.
Relationships die all the time. So do people. Why should I ever feel bad about either? There were so many times throughout my childhood where I wished my father would die, yet for some reason, God ignored my prayers and focused on someone less important.
David may be the name of the voice in my head, but he is ever so real and takes control whenever I choose to lose control, especially when drinking. He’s promised to never bring harm to me, my twin brother, or anyone in my family, but Bonita is dead, so his word is worthless. It also needs to be known that when I disappear, that’s when things get bad. And right now things are really bad.
Emotions and love work well for most people but not me. No sooner do I begin to feel the warmth of love and think that maybe things will work out for me than love betrays me.
All I want is for someone to love me—I mean truly love me—the way I love them. I want someone who will make sense of David. He’s only as strong as he is because no one is stronger. There is no one who protects me the way he does. And he never leaves. Everyone I’ve loved leaves.
I paused for a moment, stretching my fingers.
“See, writing helps. I’m the only one who stays. Everyone else leaves.”
“Not everyone leaves.” I shut my laptop and picked up my phone. There was one person who hadn’t left me—yet.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Mom.”
“Aaron, what’s wrong?”