Sal laid there. Still as possible in the cold bed. He could hear them in the next room. A slight scowl over took him. It was a bit disgusting how thin these walls were. He could only hope Tess didn't let out a scream of ecstasy.
She just might.
He thought he might need to take a shit. No. He let out a loud fart as he rolled to his side. He smiled then as if maybe that would shut them up. It didn't.
He felt back for Molly's pillow. Sal squeezed it tight trying to breathe in Molly's sweet scent. He didn't want to lose her, but he knew it was happening. It was probably happening, right now.
Funny, how it was so slow. This world. A life gathering itself to effect everyone. Everyone around him. He breathed in tears then. He felt as if he'd been dusted with snow that would not melt. He cringed then.
He did not want to see that baby. He did not.
Honestly, Sal had put it out of his mind for some time now. It would not be happening. He first decide. There was just this small chance. Why did it have to be MICHELLE?
His eyes burned with tears. He fought them bitterly, but what good would that do now?
He never talked to her anymore. He didn't want to know her. He just stayed away from her because they were so bad for each other. She said he made her drink. He made her want to do bad things. Go off the deep end. It was exactly the same way he felt about her.
And then there was Molly. It was like grabbing for the golden ring that just wouldn't let go of the past, completely. He was making himself sick on the inside. He was really sick of everything. He truly was. But how, how was he to go on now. He needed Molly. He needed her so much.
He was congested, suddenly. He could hardly breathe. It felt as if he were in a tomb of some sort. Stuck perhaps. Frozen. Was that his problem? Not really feeling what he was suppose to feel.
Sal drug himself out of bed. His thin bony body in his black boxers. He managed to the bathroom. First he looked for some cold meds. He downed the Nyquil. It burned his throat, but in a good way. Still he stammered back, saw the razer below the shower head. He squinted hard, biting his lip. He wouldn't do it? Would he?
Sal waited. Patiently for this thought to clear. But it didn't. He stared at the disposable razer. There was rust on it. He picked it up. It was amazing how these quicky razer didn't last long, at all. Didn't he just use this one? It was pink. It was Molly's.
He grinned then, thinking of her hairy legs. She might as well have been a vegan goddess with hairy arm pits too. He gasped with a bubble of happiness. He loved that thought. But he did like to shave her legs. Sal remembered. He was sad once, again.
He sniffed then. He had a clear head as he studied the head of the razer in his hand. How in the fuck was he gonna make this work? He festered his mouth with a bit of painful disgust. But he sat down on the commode lid to have a moment to himself. He nursed his bottom lip for sometime. Waiting. Waiting..waiting...He grazed his lower side with the instrument. Thinking it wasn't sharp enough..but a slip of blood serficed so slightly, like ink on a canvass.
Sal started to laugh, carefully. He sucked in a breath. It was nothing. Barely a scratch. Maybe he should do it, again.