Suicide Notes



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Suicide Notes (Michael Thomas Ford)

concentrating, as in he was staring at it like it was a math problem he
needed to figure out. Finally he picked up a sausage and bit one end off.
“Take it easy on that thing, Rankin,” said Sadie, looking at me and
winking. “You know what they say about playing with your sausage too
much.”
I couldn’t believe she’d said that. “Stop it,” I mouthed at her.
But it didn’t matter. Rankin didn’t get the joke, anyway. He wrinkled up
his eyebrows and said, “I’m not playing with it, I’m eating it.” He put the
rest of the sausage in his mouth and chewed it.
Sadie looked at me and giggled.
“You guys are weird,” Rankin said, and dug into his eggs.


Day 28
What happened tonight wasn’t a dream. I want it to be, but it wasn’t. It
really happened. And now I feel worse than I did when they took me off the
happy pill that first week. A lot worse. I almost feel the way I did the night I
tried to, well, do what I did.
I went to bed around eleven last night. Even though things were okay
between us, I was still a little freaked out about what happened with Sadie,
and I just wanted to sleep for a while and forget about it. You know how
things always seem worse at night, and how in the morning they aren’t that
bad? Well, that’s not always true. Not this time, anyway.
was dreaming. In my dream I was running along a street somewhere. It
was nighttime, and the moon was full. The stars were all silver and shining,
and it was warm, the perfect summer night. I was just running along. Then I
spread my arms, like you do when you’re a kid and you’re pretending to be
an airplane, and the wind lifted me into the sky.
There I was, flying. It’s not like I’ve never had a flying dream before,
but this was different. I felt like a kite, riding the wind and watching the
town below me. It looked like a miniature city, all the lights twinkling and
the cars moving around like fireflies. It was totally beautiful and peaceful,
and I never wanted it to end.
Then something happened. It was like the dream skipped a few frames,
or someone hit the pause button in my brain. In my dream I started to fall
back to earth. I woke up, and for a minute I thought I really had fallen. I
didn’t know where I was or what was happening.
That’s when I realized that someone was in the bed with me. There was
a body stretched alongside mine, and the sheets and blankets were pulled
back. The moon was shining in through the window, and I could see it
reflected on bare skin. Someone was touching me. There was a hand
between my legs, stroking me. And I was hard.
“It’s okay,” a voice whispered in my ear. For a second, I thought it was
Sadie, and that this time I might be able to go through with it.


But it wasn’t Sadie. It was Rankin. He was in my bed, naked, and he
was jacking me off. It was so totally bizarre that for a minute I was sure I
was still dreaming. But I felt his skin on mine, and his hand going up and
down. I could even feel his breath where he was breathing against my neck.
All I could say was, “What are you doing?”
“Do you like it?” Rankin asked me.
“Don’t,” I told him. But I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen. For a
minute I thought I was still dreaming, that I might wake up and be alone in
my bed. I shut my eyes.
Rankin stopped what he was doing and moved his hand up my belly.
His fingers were rough, but they still tickled. When he rested his palm on
my chest I could feel the calluses he has from playing ball.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” he said. He moved his head closer to
me and kissed my neck.
I wanted to tell him to stop. I wanted to tell him to get out of my bed
and out of my room. But it was like my voice was locked in my throat. I
kept swallowing, trying to break through the block that was there, but
nothing worked. Wake up, I told myself. Wake up wake up wake up wake
up.
“You can touch me if you want to,” said Rankin.
My hands were at my sides, my right one pressed against Rankin’s
stomach where he was lying next to me. I could feel his skin, and the
muscle beneath it. He moved closer, and my fingertips touched skin and
hair. I was so scared I couldn’t move. Mostly I wanted to be anywhere else,
but part of me was really curious.
He pushed himself against me. He was hard. I moved my hand, and my
fingers wrapped around him. I wasn’t sure why I was doing it. Maybe I was
afraid of what would happen if I didn’t do it. I just pretended I was still
dreaming.
Rankin’s body tensed, then relaxed, and the two of us just stayed there
like that for a while. I could feel the blood pumping through him, and I
started moving my hand up and down him. He put his hand back between
my legs and did the same thing. Neither of us said anything while we did it,
but every so often Rankin would brush his lips against my neck. I don’t
know how long we were there, but it felt like hours. Then I felt Rankin’s


body stiffen and he groaned. My hand was covered in sticky heat, and he
gripped me harder. A few seconds later I was done too.
I didn’t know what to do afterward. Rankin sat up and wiped his hands
on his T-shirt, which he’d thrown on the floor. Then he pulled his
underwear on and left without saying anything.
When he was gone, I put my hand to my nose. It was still sticky from
him. I could smell Rankin on my fingers, a mix of sweat and something else
I can’t really describe. I wiped my hand on the sheets to get it off, but the
smell stayed in my nose, no matter how hard I breathed to clear it out.
I tried to get back to sleep, but I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I
could feel Rankin touching me, feel his breath on my neck and his skin
against mine.
Why did I do that with him? Why did I let him stay?
I don’t know why. But I did, and now I feel like crap. Dirty. Worst of all,
I have to see my parents today. And I don’t even want to think about having
to see Rankin later. Maybe he won’t say anything and we can pretend it
never happened. He’s good at that, right? And maybe it didn’t happen.
Maybe it was all a sick dream, and I’ll still wake up.


Day 29
I honestly can’t tell you much about how things went with my parents this
morning. It was fine, I guess. We basically talked about how much we all
love each other and how they’re looking forward to having me come home
in a couple of weeks. I didn’t say much, and for once Cat Poop didn’t push
me. Maybe he could see how tired I was. I’m sure I’ll get grilled about it in
our session tomorrow.
Anyway, the point is, I’m sort of preoccupied. For obvious reasons, I
tried to avoid Rankin, but I ran into him this morning in the bathroom. I
seriously have to talk to somebody about getting my own bathroom. This
togetherness thing is becoming a problem.
I wasn’t even going to take a shower. That’s how much I didn’t want to
see Rankin. But around here if you don’t take a shower, someone will
accuse you of being depressed again and you’ll have to go through the
whole “Is anything troubling you today, Jeff?” bullshit. Who needs it? Also,
I didn’t want to meet my parents smelling like Rankin’s dick.
So of course I walked in and there he was. He had his towel wrapped
around his waist, and he was standing outside the shower waiting for the
water to get hot. The water here takes forever to warm up. I swear they
have, like, three old women in the basement boiling water over actual fires.
Then the water takes so long to get up here, it’s only warmish when it
comes out.
“Hey,” Rankin said, like nothing weird had happened.
“Hey,” I said back, then stood there feeling like an idiot. But what was I
supposed to say? “Thanks for coming over last nightSorry I didn’t have

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