I Remember

I woke up to the smell of flesh rotting in a closed area, where am I? I sat up in the bed I some how stumbled into last night, my head was pounding and that smell was getting stronger as I woke up more. I got of the bed and opened a blind to look out of the glistening glass to see a bright sun, but I still don't remember where i was. I tried to walk over to the door, still dazed from the sleep, I attempted to turn the door knob...locked, this was great stuck without a way of telling where I was, and now slowy I'm forgeting who I am. I reach into my pocket to find my wallet gone, but replaced with two .45 mm shells.

I wonder what happen on my drunken rage last night, I ponder back and forth in my 7 x 5 room, and now the stencth of the flesh had faded but a disturbing scream replaced it, like a sound a dog makes when it's dying. Now im afraid, no memory of last night, two empty cases in my pocket, screams from down the hallway...wait a hallway! I must not be alone in here, but I'm alone with somebody else...and something thats hurting him.

I try to turn the knob again, and this time the door flew open with the little force I put on it. I walked out of the room to find myself in a prison type area, now I'm truly confused. I heard the scream again, but this was from a woman, now thinking of it the scream before sounded like a child. I looked down the hallway to see another door and a colt .45 pistol lying on the ground, why would they just leave a handgun uncased or protected on the ground. I looked into the chamber, and found that the firing spring was missing, this seemed odd, like odder than anything out of this damned place.

Now as I attempt to open the other door I hear faint whimpering, like of a grown man, usually men don't cry unless their bitches or in extreme pain. This door took a lot of force to open, like it was blocked by something, I put all of my body weight into one kick and the door flew open, but for me to find the most disturbing thing I've ever seen in my life...I seen myself. I looked up to see my life less corpse dangeling in front of the door with two rotting corpses on the floor with two bullet cases next to a colt dropped on the floor. I didn't understand anything about this, there was nothing I could see out of this, nobody wanted to play a prank on me, I have nothing that karma would attack, what is happening?

"Hello Max." I heard a strange voice say from the back of my head, almost as if it was inside of my brain. "We've been studying the remainds of your brain and found this disturbing memory." I couldn't understand anything about this, what is going on...ughh my head! "Stop it Max, you are reliving a memory from your past, this was June 2, 1991...The day you commited suicide along with double homicide." I went to speak, but I couldn't say anything, like if somebody ripped out my vocal cords. "Max, do you remember?" I shook my head no. "June 2, you know Max, REMEMBER YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I felt tears roll down my face, why was I crying? "Max stop crying, you always were a bitch though, didn't have enough balls to tell you wife you didn't want to be with her, didn't have enough balls to admit you hated your own son, didn't have enough balls to say you wanted to leave...no instead you decided to kill her and him, and then yourself, and you did it like a pussy, tisk tisk hanging yourself is the easiest way!" I was laying down sobbing, I couldn't stop crying, I tried to cover my ears, but I still heard it. "Max, I'm going to ask you again...do you remember?"

I do remember, I remember losing my job, love for my wife, anything towards my son, and respect towards myself. I remember buying the gun, the shells, and the rope. I remember drinking away my sorrow while thinking of the easy way of telling my dearest Debra that I couldn't be with her anymore. I remember taking the easy way out.

I remember...I'm Maxwell Nalco, age 35, father of Chris Nalco, and married to Debra Nalco.

I...remember...the rope...I remember the sna....

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