Page 49 of Tormented

I’ve got death on a tight leash, suffering and misery whittled down to a fine art, but the one thing I long for more than anything always seems to slip through my bloody grasp. I get it, and then I sabotage it.

Because you don’t deserve it . . . .

Or maybe you sabotage it.

Hooch steps forward and grabs me by both wrists as I launch into an attack on the asshole in my head, slamming the heels of my hands into my temples and forehead, over and over.

“Stop it, brother.”

“No,” I groan. “I want him out.”

“It’s not helping.”

“Nothin’ helps,” I complain. “Nothing makes him go the fuck away. I just wanna be left alone. I want him to leave.”

No you don’t. The asshole breaks into song. You and me, we will be, together for eternity . . . .

I look up to Hooch as his arms strain and he fights to stop me self-destructing. “Make it go away.”

“Okay, brother. Okay.”