there's got to be another cigarette in here. i know i had a pack
yesterday and i'm the only one that smokes them in this damn place, so
there must be some left. or was that last week. it doesn't matter.
all i know is that i need a cigarette and there's none here.
but i can't leave.
damn fool. told him to just not say anything. told him that if he kept on talking bad things were going to happen. told him toldhimtoldhim. but did he listen? did he want to listen? of course not. he never listens to me. he's the one that took me in. he's the one that let me in here and found me that job and he's the one that takes care of everything and he's the one who's always right. i'm the one who's supposed to listen to the things that he has to say and nod an know that what he's saying is right and that anything that i could possibly add is just wrong so i should just shut up.
but i was right this time. i was right and he was wrong. and now i don't know what to do about it. i keep looking around, to see if he's there, so he can give me the right answers. you know, 'cause he always has the right answers, he always knows what to do. it could be the dead of night and i wake him up 'cause i hear something and out of his sleep, his eyes half open he turns and grunts and fixes everything and falls back asleep waking up the next morning not remembering the things that he did. he's just that good. he just knows. it's in him and it's who he is.
but he's not here now. he's not here to solve the problems. and i'm supposed to fix everything on my own. oh god i don't know what to do. so i'm just sitting here. looking around, my head just scanning the room every couple of seconds to see if anything's changed, so see if anything's better so that everything can just go back to being the way it used to be, the way things were when he took care of everything and i could just sit and listen and not have to worry about it.
but i just look over and i see his body lying there on the couch. he hasn't moved in so long and i don't know what to do and i keep hoping i'll look over and i'll see him sitting up and eyes half open looking around telling me to do something, anything, as long as he's back and i don't have to do anything myself. but he hasn't moved. and i don't if he's ever going to get up so i scan the room again hoping something's changed and find that nothing has.
and i still can't find those damn cigarettes.