Chapter 5 | Suicide. Easy way out, or doing yourself a favor?

Walk walk walk. All night long. Walk walk walk while I sing this song. I can't feel my feet, I have no nose. And now I will repeat: Dude, this really blows.

This walk seemed to be the longest of the three. To make the time go faster I would pick out checkpoints a ways down the road, like a tree or a clearing, so that way when we got to the checkpoint it felt like we were making progress. Neither of us said anything until about half way again, and then he made another random comment.

"I can't help but think about what Elle is doing. She is probably sleeping, but I wonder what she is dreaming out."

I wanted to scream from weirdness overload. He has said maybe 20 words to this girl in his entire life. That does not warrant a 'I wonder what she is dreaming about' statement, and I don't care if you are married; don't say that to me, or anyone. Say it to yourself. In your head. Where no one will hear you.

"I am thinking about a hot shower," I said.

"I waited too long to ask her out." Coo-koo. Coo-koo.Once we would get to the road where the guys cabin was, there wasn't much snow on the road itself, but it was very muddy, or was muddy earlier on because now it was frozen solid. And since there had been big fourwheel drives driving over it all winter it was very rutty. It seemed a sprained ankle was inevitable. But, alas, we made it yet again to the cabin without serious injury and without me assaulting my roommate.

"He is going to be pissed," Ryan said as we banged on his door.

"I'm pissed. You should be too. He stole your tow strap and your come along, and then tied a knot in the strap making it too short. Who cares if he's pissed," I said.

Dogs started barking from inside the house. Us knocking on the door hadn't woken him up, but the barking did. He didn't realize we were there, and we could hear him swearing at his dogs to shutup. We waited for the dogs to take a breath and knocked again. He eventually came to the door and we told him the whole situation. He said he needed a second to get dressed and stuff. So he went back inside. I then looked at my phone. It was ten to two.

"Best case scenario is we get home by four," I said.

"What time is it?"

"Ten to two," and then the guy came out. We started walking down to his little Suzuki. He had a flashlight, but the battery was super dead. I don't even think the light made it to the ground. He also had a sprained ankle, and limped creepily. My roommate brought up the knot in the strap. "Yeah, I got that bastard tight," said the guy, completely missing the point. I sat in the back of the car. The backseat was folded and wasn't attached to the floor anyway so I sat on the car floor amidst a mass of mystery items. I pictured greasy car parts and tools, oily rags, cigarrete butts, and old socks. I was sure when I got home I would be filthy from sitting back there. He smoked a cigarrete with the windows rolled down, but I really didn't mind that much because it gave the impression of heat.