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She Has Trouble Sleeping

Short story By: JohnTFisherman

***WARNING*** This story contains explicit descriptions of both sex and death. It is an honest look at a relationship.

There's no sex in your violence.

Submitted:Mar 8, 2014    Reads: 155    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   

She Has Trouble Sleeping

"I, I've just never had this happen before" Hank said.

"Not to be a complete ass, or anything, but you really don't seem all that experienced" Jess said. She sipped on her cocktail.

The room's green paint matched the bed's sheets and comforter. A small lamp brightened the room. Hank sat in a chair and rubbed his shoulder. He sat as far away from Jess as the room would allow.

"Look, I've never had any complaints before. Maybe there's something wrong" Hank said.

Jess leaned forward. "Wrong with what?" she asked.

"Well, with you" Hank said.

"Listen shit head, I was doing my part. If anythings wrong, its with you" Jess said.

"I didn't mean that you weren't trying. I just meant, maybe, you know, like, your medication is making you feel, not, in the mood, or something" Hank said.

"Medication?" Jess asked.

"The pill?" Hank asked. He sat up in the chair.

"Uh, I'm not taking that" Jess said. She gulped the last of her drink and walked to the desk where Hank was sitting. She poured more liquor into her glass and returned to the bed. The carpet was warm under her bare feet; the soft berber curls dampening any sound in the room.

"You let me...without anything?" Hank said.

"You didn't get any cum inside of me, if thats what you're worried about. Its pretty much all in my hair. And on my headboard" Jess said. She pointed to white splotch of liquid on her cherry stained bed frame.

"When you talk like that, it makes it sound..." Hank said.

"What? Human?" Jess said.

"I was gonna say disgusting." Hank said.

"Well fuck that shit. There are billions of people on the planet fucking right now, this very instance in time. You want to pretend that its anything more than common or base, fine, go fuck yourself." She leaned forward and stared into Hank's eyes.

"Jeez, you're an angry drunk." Hank said.

Jess laughed, "Fuck, ya", she took a long sip of her drink.

"Why think about it like that?" Hank said. He turned his chair and poured himself a drink. Ice clinked in the glass as car headlights shown through the drawn brown curtains. Jess walked briskly to the window and looked out. She released her breath slowly and laid back down.

"Something wrong?" Hank asked.

"Nah" Jess said. She took another large swallow. "Anxiety. That's the reason to think of it like shit."

"What?" Hank asked.

"Sex has a tendency to make people ape shit crazy. It screws with them. When you reduce it to nothing, you relax, and release." Jess said.

"But isn't it meant to be something important between people. For a moment they're completely involved in each other and disconnected from the world." Hank said.

"You've jerked it to porn?" Jess asked.

Hank's face flushed red.

"Yes." Hank said.

"Are you telling me that was intimate? Or were you just one of a million other dudes rubbing one out. You expect me treat that with dignity? You can't even talk about it without guilt. Why be embarrassed?" Jess said.

"That's different." Hank said. He sipped on his drink and filled the glass full.

"Of course it is. It couldn't be that sexuality is the human races' common denominator." Jess said. She swirled the liquid around in her glass. "Look I'll show you."

She set her glass on the night stand and reached into the drawer. Taking out a vibrator, she smiled at Hank. His eyes widened as she slipped it inside of her. He watched as she buoyed it in and out. The force of the motor died slightly as she pressed it against herself. She rubbed and squeezed her nipples as she worked. She moaned. Hank could feel himself flush.

After finishing, she returned the toy to its place and rubbed the cool glass on her forehead.

"See," she breathed heavily, "its a matter of physical pleasure."

Hank looked away as she alternately sipped her drink and cooled her body with the ice.

"I'm not denying the carnal aspect of sex. I'm just saying that it should be a beautiful, unique thing." Hank said.

"But thats a lie. You're trying to force this righteous perspective. Don't you understand? It doesn't fucking matter if you think it should be special. It's not. It will always just be fucking." Jess said.

Hank shook his head. He sank back into the chair and watched Jess finish her drink. She dropped her empty glass on the floor and laughed at her drunkenness.

Car lights shown through the shades and the grinding of the garage door opener worked through the room.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Jessica said.

"What? I thought he was gone all weekend.?" Hanks asked.

"What? Fuck, I, maybe that's next week?" Jess said. She tried to stand up, but stumbled against the wall.

"Jess, honey, I..." Chris opened the door. "What the fuck is going on?" He looked at Hank and Jess. "Again? How could you do this again? Fuck Jess, I thought, I thought you were finished with this?" He wiped tears from his face. "I thought you were happy now?"

"Oh fuck you Chris. How could I be happy? This shithole house and all your goddamn problems. If you think I like being miss bitchy house wife, well go fuck yourself." Jess tried to walk around the bed, but tripped and caught herself on the comforter.

Chris paced back and forth between the bed and the bedroom door. He starred into Hank's eyes.

"Hey, man, I had no idea." Hank said.

"You little shit, you pretty much came in your pants when I told you I was married." Jess said.

"Shut up, just, shut the fuck up!" Chris screamed.

"Oh, calm down, you're such a fucking pussy." Jess said.

Chris threw open the closet doors and produced a small caliber hand gun.

"Jesus, man, I'm sorry. Look, I'll just fucking go. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Hank said.

Chris pointed the pistol at Hank and fired. The bullet struck below his left eye. His head jerked and the body went limp. His brain misted the wall behind him.

Jess, breathing heavily, looked Chris in the eyes.

He leveled the pistol at her and fired. She convulsed and slumped backwards. Blood pooled in amounts Chris did not think were possible on the bed spread. Standing over Jess' body, he fired three more rounds into her face.

Chris sat beside her and held her twitching hand. Placing the barrel in his mouth, he jerked his head as it burned his tongue. He had not considered how the physics of the weapon actually worked. His experience with any kind of firearm had been limited to films and video games. The gun had been a gift from his father.

Sobbing gently, the sound muffled by the barrel, Chris thought of their wedding day, the happiness they had shared and everything that could have been. He thought of their child sleeping down the hall. He was confronted by his infidelities and failures.

Seized by everything that passed through his mind and heart, he felt his finger squeeze the trigger, almost subconsciously as if his soul was executing a justice his mind could not resist. He willed it to stop, but could not muster the strength. Panic consumed him. His crying became louder and louder and then silence; darkness.


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