Thursday, January 19, 2006
I think it was when he took a chainsaw to the neighbourhood coffee shop that B and I really started to drift apart. We’d been best friends since childhood, y’know, and you tend to stick by your mate even if he shows a morbid fascination for cutting things up. Messily.
Give us a ciggy, will you? It helps me remember. Thanks. By the way, sorry if I don’t tell you B’s name – it’s a sensitive matter.
Anyway, everything B had would turn into mulch in a matter of days. It’s a wonder his parents lasted as long as they did – I guess he didn’t like them enough to care.
So one day, B came up to me and said he’d bought a sword. I took a look, of course – you don’t see swords often these days, especially if you’re not into politics. It was rather nifty, and we played at Warriors and Monsters for a bit, even though we were 17 and supposed to be above all that. Where’d he get the money to buy it from? Didn’t ask, really. Well, all teenagers steal from their parents once in a while.
So anyway, B said we had to slay a dragon. And then I watched as B captured a stray dog and butchered it with the nice shiny sword. And I didn’t puke. I’ve seen all these movies where the guy that witnesses anything horrible has to throw up. I kept expecting to puke, but I didn’t.
Anyway, I dismissed this as a one-time thing, and B never spoke about it again. Then B bought the chainsaw.
What? Was he influenced by the movie? I don’t know. I think he had seen the movie, but he probably would’ve got around to chainsaws anyway. Him and big shiny sharp things were made for each other.
The first thing he did with it was to cut up the sword. It was really messy to watch, and it’s actually how I got this scar on my forehead. Steel splinters are bad for you.
So that was when we went to the coffee shop. There were six people there. This time I did throw up. Then he said he was coming for me. And I started running. After that, we weren’t really friends any more.
I ran straight home. Bad idea? Of course it was a bad idea, but forgive me for not thinking straight with my best friend wanting to ram a chainsaw up my bottom.
By the way, do you have another cigarette? This one’s finished. Of course you do, there’s one poking out of your pocket. Thanks.
Listen, sorry for being snappy, but I’m a bit on edge. Running from place to place doesn’t help you make friends. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Thanks for listening. You want another coffee? On me.
Okay, so I went home. And of course he came after me. But before that he went to his own house – yeah, he’d finally remembered his parents.
By then, I’d realised I had to run. So I did. That didn’t stop him from doing in my family. Saw it on the news? Me too.
Since then he’s been following me. He can smell me, I swear. What? You can smell me too? No, that’s just because I haven’t washed in a few days. He can smell me even when I’m clean. And he always looks in the coffee shops. Well, we both love them. I like the atmosphere. He likes breaking different kinds of tables.
I should stay out of coffee shops, you say? I dunno. They’re the only joy I have left. I can’t give that up, can I?
Anyway, I gotta leave now. Thanks for listening, and for the ciggies. Coffee’s on me, of course. If I were you, I wouldn’t come here for a few days. I’m not sure, but who knows. Ta, mate. Miles to go and everything. Nice meeting you.