Thursday, March 3, 2016

Michelle Carter

A while ago, I read a story in the news about a teenaged girl who convinced her boyfriend to kill himself.  They printed the texts that the couple had exchanged.  Anyway, I wrote this about it.

“Just like, don’t think about it.”  I said
“I guess… But… I’m scared.”  He said
“Don’t be scared.  It’ll be quick.  Really quick.” 
“Is it… Is it gonna be loud, you think?” 
“Well… yeah, but you won’t really notice it.  Like it’ll be over before you can even think, ‘that was loud’” 
“Oh.”
He looks at the pistol in his hand.  Feels the weight.  Strokes the top.  His finger lingers on a spot near the barrel.
“Look, if you aren’t going to do it…” I said.
“I am… I mean, I want to… I just…”
“You just what?  Come on….”
“I’m just scared.  That’s all…”
“I told you! There’s nothing to be scared of!”
“Uh.” 
“The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be!”
He lifts it up, doesn’t set up the angle yet, though.  But it’s a gesture.
He says, “I… I love you.”
“Yeah. I love you, too.”  I tap my foot. 
He points it at his ear. 
“No,” I say, “Not there.  Put it in your mouth and go up.”
His hand is trembling, more and more as the gun slowly approaches the correct position.
“I love you.” I say once it’s in the right spot. 
He nods and a single tear rolls down his face. 

It isn’t loud for him but it is for me. 
Alone comes on quicker than I’m used to.  
But I like it. 


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