The Rotting Knot
Jacob Alves
I pumped hard on top, almost as if it was rape. My right arm held her left leg up, she liked it. The muscle realxers, uppers, and alcohol were getting in the way of me finishing but I kept slamming my thin hips into hers. I begin to slow down then I finally stopped, “Fuck.” I said, “I can’t, it must be the pills or something.” I collapsed on top of her, wheezing and craving a cigarette. Our bodies were hot and her heart was protruding from her breast. I rolled over leaving the condom on and pulled up my shorts. She reached over to grab her phone, “Amber just told me she has something important to tell me, it’s about you,” she said. “What the fuck, I didn’t even do any thing.” Amber hated me and hated the fact that I was dating her friend pissed her off. “Did she say what it was?” “No she’s at work.” Right then is what set the mood for the rest of the night. Silent, both of our minds were racing, trying to predict what Amber was going to spill. The worst part was I knew it was something from about ex-girlfriend, another one of Amber’s friend who’d I done wrong a number of times. We laid side by side not touching, listening to our thoughts. The mental distance between was so obvious it was almost visible in that dark tiny room.
I woke up before the alarm went off and sat still until it did. My stomach was in a rotting knot from all the pills and my head pulsating from the alcohol, the sun beating down on the bed wasn’t helping either. She woke up and reached over me to stop the obnoxious buzzing then stood up and checked her phone. It took her a couple seconds to read the new message. “I better go,” I said, “fuckin traffic and shit.” “Yeah,” she softly replied looking down. I stood up and moved my head towards hers, I kissed her on the lips. She didn’t kiss back, her lips tasted dead and lacked fire.
