by Devon Robbins
“Have you ever wondered what dying feels like?”
Sarah’s voice is fearless. We’ve already been breathing the fumes from the kerosene we stole from the boiler room for twenty minutes and the bitter taste has made a home in my throat. Sarah pulls her cigarette from her lips and flicks her ashes on the carpet. She wears her makeup dark, especially around her eyes, making her look manically depressed.
Concentration is a skill I no longer possess. I always knew that Sarah would end up killing me. I watch the cigarette ignite the carpet and try to tune into Sarah’s mind, focus just long enough to match my breathing to hers. Without much adjustment I appear fearless too.
The gravity of the situation finally sets in when the flames start creeping toward the ceiling and the toxic chemical smoke begins to wage war on my airways.
Sarah leans in close and for a second I think she is going to kiss me. She whispers in my ear, “We will be legends.”
She has this psychotic look on her face and she keeps letting out this laugh that fucking terrifies me. I could walk away right now but I don’t. I could have stomped out the fire on the carpet but I didn’t.
Maybe I am crazy. I am fully aware that I am inhaling flames and all I keep thinking about is fucking Sarah.
I roll over and open my eyes to see Sarah’s legs sticking out of the blankets. My esophagus is on fire and I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up half a fifth of cheap undigested whiskey.
It finally hits me. The crazy bitch is ruining me.
I crawl back into bed, slide my hand into her shorts and take another drink of her poison.