Welcome To Paradise: A Girl Called Kill

Welcome To Paradise

I hadn’t seen her in months and the last time I did, was just a normal day. No conceivable wrongdoing on either account. But still; we hadn’t spoken in months. I knew she didn’t like Liz, Liz was her new boyfriends ex, one more reason to make this all ridiculously awkward. Then I saw that Brian was there. Trying not to acknowledge a former lover with your present, well present, is not an easy thing to do. I asked Liz for a smoke and walked over to my car for a lighter. When I turned to open the car door, I looked up for an ill fated second, our eyes met.

In that moment, more thoughts traveled simultaneously through my mind then after I did my first line of blow. I saw in her eyes the allure of self destruction, the beautiful emptiness of her promises, and how much I missed them. Her lies meant more to me than Liz’s love ever could. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, but she was very beautiful. But that wasn’t it, it was her smile. There was something about her smile. It told you that everything was going to be ok; you knew it was a lie and you just didn’t care. It told you that she would destroy you, and you’d love every minute of it, you’d want more as you lay there; helpless and unable to move forward. It told you who you were and why you could never have her. It couldn’t tell you why she fell for me or why I was different, but its charm had long worn off of me and I was no longer susceptible to her black magic (that’s brown magic to the rookie). Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be. I looked over to Liz, lit my cigarette, and then looked up at Jackie as she passed by.

She was smiling at me.

So I smiled back. Silently acknowledging the irony of the moment we both knew that both of us were analyzing. As I watched the walk away, her gaze returned to Brian, and as it did, she let go of him.

My moment of Zen way rudely interrupted by the crass sound of Liz’s laugh, a laugh which up until recently comforted me and made me feel good inside. Maybe my analyzing of Jackie’s smile was proof that I can’t find happiness or feel good. Maybe I’m only happy when I’m miserable or being treated like shit. Maybe one day I’ll look back at Liz with as much fondness as me and Jackie’s debacle, maybe when she’s gone Liz will make me happy. I don’t think I could ever find contentment with someone as happy as Liz made herself out to be. Nobody is that happy, and frankly, people who claim to be make me fucking ill.

“Billy Boy!” I fucking hate it when she calls me that. Only my crazy Aunt Eileen has earned the right to call me that and that’s because she’s s fucking lush. “We’re all going over to Erin’s house. Do you want to drive or do you want to hitch a ride with Becky?” Liz came up from behind me and threw her arms over my shoulders, like those pictures you always see of young couples that used to be happy. I got a chill. “So do you want to ride with Becky or not?” There’s no way in my present mental state that I can deal with that fucking twit Becky and Liz at the same time.

“No, I’ll drive. I’ve got to stop for cigarettes anyway.” I handed Liz five bucks “Give this to Becky; tell her to get me as much alcohol as possible, for as little as possible. “Two forties or some Miller High Life.” Liz laughed that devil laugh of hers again and hopped off with her fat friend.

We drank for different reasons me and Liz, which kind of bothered me as well. When I drink, it’s out of necessity and habit. I drink so I can understand everything there is to understand; and hate it all with my heart of hearts. Liz drinks because being drunk is fun and cool. Tack that onto my “List of things I can’t fucking stand about my Girlfriend”. Soon she’ll be drunk and the festivities will begin. My favorite part of the evening. Soon they’ll all congregate, Liz and all her elitist friends, in Erin’s kitchen drinking their Miller High Life and Vodka, telling stories of the men who have tried to call a member of this selective group their own. Especially Liz. I’ll sit there silently; chiming in every now and then about something meaningless to let them know I’m still there. Hopefully she won’t be sloppy by the end of the night, maybe I’ll get some decent sleep before work. Maybe I’ll even get laid. That would be a good night. That would be just fucking peachy.

“Hey Bill, you’re stopping for cigarettes right?” Erin, Liz’s tolerable friend whose house we were headed too, started walking over to me. I told her I was and she asked to ride with me because she needed the same. Liz went with that fat twit Becky to stop for the liquor, so I guess she felt I needed company. Things were kind of strange between me and Erin. None of Liz’s friends knew, with the exception of one friend who was not present; Dena, about me and Erin. For the longest time several people tried persistently to hook myself up with this girl Erin, and vice versa. Namely because I have a penchant for red heads with freckles, and she has the same tattoo I have on my chest, right above her situation. I refer to it as “her situation” because those things can be a fucking hassle. The car ride wasn’t too awkward, but just enough to make laugh a little inside.

“Do you want a smoke?” She was putzing through her purse holding out a cigarette. Camels. Good girl.

“I might at that.” I grabbed the free cancer and lit it. She was still putzing with the contents of her purse, finally, her face lit up like a girl with an eating disorder who just heard someone call her pretty.

“Here it is! You like coke?” My face lit up brighter.

“Does a body good right? Sure I like it, especially when it’s free.” She proceeded to take it like a champ. She took out a 20 and rolled it up then jammed it straight into the bag and proceeded to raise high the roof beam. Her head came up with a devilish, orgasmic smile and a single tear rolling down her already flushed Irish face.

“It’s really good. I stole it from my dad. Found it looking through his shit for some money” Erin was a spoiled brat. She had a job but barely worked. 14 hours a week or something like that at Barnes and Noble. She also went on trips to Europe several times a year. Spoiled kids bother me to no end, but right now, this girl was my pal. She passed me the Batman adorned bag and the bill. I stuck it in and took back all that was left.

Welcome to paradise.

Suddenly Liz didn’t matter. Jackie was a distant memory of somebody I used to kinda know. All I cared about was the warm, happy feeling running down my satiated throat.

“Good shit right?” I paused for a second and waited for the drip.

“We need cigarettes. Cigarettes and water.” She laughed a much warmer laugh than Liz, and at the same time seemed much more welcomingly evil.

“I’ll take that as a yes, and I agree, Lots of cigarettes.” She then spoke some of the greatest words I have ever heard. “Let’s not tell Liz and them about this. Don’t feel like dealing with them hassling me about a little coke.” She took out another bag. I was walking on air; actually, it was more like pacing back and forth twiddling my thumbs. She took back the dollar bill and reddened her face a bit more then passed it back. I was having enough trouble driving already. Fuck it. I took it and once more, made my way to paradise.

Drip.

“Yeah sure we can leave Liz out of this one. That’s no problem at all. She’ll never know.” I was already afflicted with the fucking chatters. I needed something to keep me occupied as to not go fucking insane in front of this girl. “Cigarettes!” I proclaimed as if I was claiming something for cigarettes everywhere. As I spun into the gas station parking lot, I won us a few stares right off the bat. It really wasn’t that late, like 9ish, 9:30, so there were actually still people out. I grabbed my ridiculously oversized Jackie O. sunglasses and carefully slid them on. Looked at Erin, she laughed, got out of the car and went over my objective.

My Mission:
2 Packs Camel Lights
1 32oz Drink
1 Frappachino (Erin)
It’s go time.

My walk to the Tiger mart was accompanied by Tommy James and the Shondells
“Draggin’ the Line”, or maybe I just wanted that. I walked in with practiced bravado, and everyone could feel it.

That kid is straight fucked up.

I knew they all knew and I didn’t care. I walked straight back to the drink coolers and stood there for a moment, like I had just accomplished something great. Grabbed the water and the coffee thing Erin wanted and headed for the register. Here comes the hard part.

The cashier.

Dealing with cashiers while fucked up is a daunting task. Not because they’ll bust you, but because they know. And you know they know. I walked up to him and asked him for my cancer.

“Cancer?” shit.

“Two packs of camel lights please.” He certainly got a chuckle out of that, gave me my cigarettes and rang me up. I’m pretty sure I ended up giving the bastard like two extra bucks. I was too busy enjoying the tint my glasses gave the world to pay attention to something like monetary exchange. So I forgot about it and headed back to my car. Approaching the vehicle I could just make Erin out in the dim light of the blinking streetlamp. Several strands of her red hair fell neatly across her face. It looked almost painted; maybe it was just me, or the blow. Either way, it was nice to look at. I just kept telling myself she was the one who said “Don’t tell Liz”.

Liz. Shit.

I was on my way to meet Liz. By this time I was pretty chemically imbalanced, and not coming out anytime soon.

Fuck it.

I lowered my glasses and looked right at Erin as I readied myself to enter the car. I tossed Erin her smokes, put the drinks in their respective holders and began packing my cigarettes. It was time to go off and meet my maker. I was nervous. At the same time however, I was excited, I don’t mind telling you.

Bring it on bitch.

Lit my cigarette and turned up the cd player. We laughed at each other and drove off like children of the night to Urge Overkill’s version of “Girl You’ll Be a Woman Soon”. Couldn’t get much better if you ask me.