Suicide Pact

INTRODUCTION

    The day me and my best friend made a suicide pact, is the day that I finally felt like maybe I could breathe a little. At the time, it was exciting and I was ready for the month to roll on by in order to just escape the hell that was my life. But these things don’t always go as easy and simple as planned and the last thing anyone ever truly comes back from is a suicide attempt.

Sure, this seems extraordinarily weird when it comes to the fact that there is help; there is always help, but what happens when you don’t want it? When you feed yourself the same bull that others do until finally one day you just give up hope? That was me and Connor. We both had shitty lives and the last thing anyone in town wanted to hear was our dumbass excuses for why the hell we didn’t want to live anymore. So naturally, we stayed quiet.

The sequence of events that lead to today is what made this all seem like a pretty damn good idea. We were punch drunk with it, we were excited, almost like we boozed ourselves up into thinking that maybe we could be happy after today. That maybe we would float among the trees and be one with earth. That we would be whole again.

Stupid right? Well, we didn’t think so.

We were stupid…I was stupid. We were lost and gone and no one could find us. From the day we were born we were dead, and that……was our suicide pact.

One

    From the dusty depths of suburban hell to the stupid and the river that ran down the middle, they were bored. From their small houses to the beat up fences and tired ass school they were done. From the beatings and the cigarette burns to the yelling and cursing, they were…..dead. Dead before death.

Connor lived right next door and sometimes all the crap that went down in their houses mended together into one sound and it was just one big heap of bullshit. Connor was her best friend since kindergarten, her other half, her right-hand man. They were attached at the hip; and everywhere they went, you didn’t see one without the other. He was the brother that her mother refused to have after she had her; the bastard.

She was born to a mother who decided that once her father left her pregnant and broke with no money she would become a dignified and well-known escort.       Escort…whore….hoe…whichever you prefer. So right off the back she had to have tough skin, a tough exterior, she had to be able to deal with the shit hand that she was dealt and boy was it shitty. Boyfriend to boyfriend, drug after drug, beating after beating her mother was a work of art. Painted entirely with needle holes, blotchy bruises and dried makeup. People knew her mother: which means people knew her, and since they were tied together by the bitch that is DNA, they were one. They were the whores, they were the home wreckers, and they were the trash. No matter the fact that she had worked her ass off on a day to day basis to support a fucked up mother who kicked her habit every two weeks only to start that shit back up like a car you thought was broken but still manages to run. She was a tag along. A pawn on her mother’s old chessboard.

Her mother was a tall, rather skinny, black woman with midnight black hair and gray eyes. She walked about the town in high heels, short dresses and really gaudy plastic jewelry that should have been put to rest a long time ago. Naturally, she looked just like her. A younger version without the age marks of life and light brown eyes. It made her sick.

Connor was the type of guy that everyone wanted to be around: but he could give two shits about who wanted to be around him so he made himself an outsider. He was the all American boy with short brown hair and bright green/gray eyes. He could have been the star varsity player for the school’s football team, gotten good grades, and gotten out on behalf of some recruiter that couldn’t care less about his crappy background as long as the kid made him some money.

Connor was the guy whose mother walked out on him as soon as he was out of her womb. Connor was the kid that his father had no idea how to take care of, so he lived off of dirty water, bread and jelly for the first five years of his life before his dad had the decency to go buy some peanut butter with the little bit of money that he didn’t spend on hookers and alcohol from out of town. Connor was the guy that started drinking beer at the tender age of six and still had enough decency to not become an alcoholic like his dad had.

    You see, Connor’s dad was the type of guy to work as a mechanic all day with bossy clients and then go to the bar to get drunk off his ass and go home to beat his son till he couldn’t anymore. His dad was the type to spend his money on the occasional meth habit, along with the hookers and alcohol but wonder how the hell he was going to pay the rent and utility and then beat his son for that too. His dad was the guy that occasionally partied with her mom and they would have to hide out somewhere so they weren’t pulled into whatever shit they planned to do in their drunken stupor. He was just as dead as she was inside, but they lived. They lived together in their own world and time. They were best friends.

    There were nights where she would sneak out through her window and go to Connor’s house so she wouldn’t have to fight off one of her mom’s clients. Where he would already have a pillow and blanket on the chair in his room; waiting for her when she got there. Where she would be able to finally get some sleep and peace and not have to worry about some random man coming into her room and feeling her up with promises of extra money or to not cut her throat with the switchblade that was in their pocket. The days where she didn’t have to be her mom’s sidekick and help her out for the night. Those were the days…sometimes.

    There were days where he would come to her and she would have to ice and disinfect his face from one of his dad’s tirades. The days where his eye would be swollen shut and his nose so bloody that she would go through three towels just trying to calm it enough for him to breathe the right way. There were days where she would go to his house because her mom was being crazy; only to be met with his dad having a crazy moment and both of them would get the wrath.

The days where he hadn’t eaten since the previous week and she would sneak him food and he would vent about one day where everything would be better when he got enough money up to get them both out of town and away forever. Those were the days.

You know one day Jess, me and you should go to California. He took a puff of his cigarette.

California? What the hell are we going to do in California? he shrugged nonchalantly.

I don’t know. Maybe we could live with the hippies? You know, smoke weed, party, and be one with the world and all that shit. He looked out at the constantly setting sun; the wind blowing a little heavier on their spot on the roof.

I thought Colorado was in the works? We could get our own place in the mountains.

Where all those bears and crap are?

How do you know there are bears huh? There could be nice little birds and crap and pretty scenery.

Scenery? Like trees and mountains and I don’t know, trees? she stole the cigarette from between his lips; inhaling before blowing the smoke slowly from her nose.

Yeah, we could be naturalists. Live off the land and what not.

Sure, because real food hasn’t already been a problem for us in our own got damn town.

It’s a suggestion. Maybe we could just travel, like just be travelers who live in their truck and see the world.

Now, Ms. Jezebel Marie Patton, you are getting somewhere. She scrunched her nose in disgust, she hated when people called her by her real name as if her life didn’t already make everything blatant and obvious. Yes, her name was Jezebel Marie Patton. Her mother must have loved the idea of naming her daughter after the old way of saying what she was. A whore.

Shut up Connor. She pushed his shoulder as he took the last swig of his beer.

Two more months. Then we’re gone. He assured and she smirked. He said this all of the time as if it built up the confidence and hope that one day they would actually be able to leave and never come back.

    Two more months? I don’t believe I’ve had the time to prepare.

    All you need is you and your ego, that fills up at least two bags already.

    Eh, who knows? I might bring my attitude to match since I have plenty of that. Baggage is all the rage right?

They heard the ridiculous giggle that was her mother as she brought home yet another client. You could smell the alcohol in the air and hear the man talk her up a few more notches that she didn’t need. It was sickening really, but then again this was the usual thing that happened, and it was only Tuesday.

    I must leave you, duty calls and I already sent her to voicemail the first three times. She got up, almost reluctantly, before turning to prepare to jump down, but he grabbed her hand.

    Don’t go in there Jess, you know what she’s going to make you do.

    We’re about three hundred dollars short for rent this week, and I don’t get paid until next week. If I don’t we could be out on the street. He let go of her to reach into his pocket and pull out money.

    God no Connor, that’s your food money. I can’t. If you have to go another day on moldy bread and jelly I’m going to go crazy for you.

    Jess, just please take it. I’ll figure something out, but I can’t let you go in there. He’s going to hurt you, I can feel it. He put the bills in her hand and then closed her fist. She sighed heavily before stuffing them in her bra then sitting back down.

    I’ll pay you back. I promise.

    No need.

    What would I do without you? Die, that’s what. I would die Connor.

    You wouldn’t, you would still be here because that’s the kind of shit you do. You wouldn’t die you would just wander around as a ghost and get on my nerves. She laughed.

    Probably. Do you think we would go to hell or heaven?

    We’re already in hell so I’d say maybe a deeper hell. Like maybe we’re in pre-hell and there is just a crappier hell waiting.

    God I hope not. That means there is another copy of my mom there and I can’t deal with that shit. If I go to hell, I’d like it to be just a bit more peaceful.

    Peaceful, is not a word that is in our dictionary. Nice thought though. He leaned over to kiss her temple as they sat there trying to block the world out. Trying to forget.

two

    School was the same nonsense that it was every day. She would get up early, get dressed, stuff her work uniform in her bag and then leave to wait in Connor’s old pickup truck for him to sneak past his dad and drive them to school. This particular morning, though, he didn’t come out right away and she knew something was up. She got out and walked up to the front window to try and see in, but there was enough dirt to cover any kind of movement. So she went to the side of the house to his window that always stayed open for her and climbed in.

    Connor?

    His room was trashed; broken glass and stuff all over the floor as she moved over to the lump on his bed. There was blood on his pillows and sheets, his body curled into itself. She touched his shoulder and his body jumped slightly.

    Connor?

    Jess…damn, I slept in didn’t I? he didn’t turn to look at her.

    What did he do to you now Connor?

    You shouldn’t be here, if he wakes up he might hurt you...

    Connor, let me see. She heard him sigh heavily before he sat up slowly. His face was a sight straight from a movie. Something she had seen before but was still extremely scared of. His eye was swollen shut, lip busted, cheek raised in a swollen mount and there was a cut on his head. Maybe this was worse than last time.

    You look like shit Connor, when did he even get home?

    I don’t know but you have to get out of here before he wakes up. He might still be drunk.

    I’m not going anywhere without you. Come on, we’ll skip, we’ll go somewhere and get you cleaned up, just come with me. He nodded slowly before she helped him up; him wincing in the process.

    He wasn’t going to make it out of the window; that was for sure. So they opted to try and quietly sneak out of the front, but as per usual, life was just there to kick them on their asses again.

    Where the fuck are you going? His father slurred from the couch, sitting up slowly and taking a sip from the beer can in his hand.

    To school, Dad. The arm that was