Walking Alone, chapter 11
Once more I was walking. My surroundings blurred together as I made my way down the street. This time it wasn't deserted. Cars lined the sidewalk, and a few people walked, also, even though it was practically midnight. For once, it wasn't raining, though my mood was still "dampened", if you wanted to say that.
Adrienne—or, Whatsername, as I sometimes call her now—told me I should go. I was skeptical at first. I didn't want to have anything to do with Jimmy. He'd kind of scared the shit out of me after our last meeting. Mike and Tre had wanted to know where I was going, but Adrienne covered up for me with the usual "doctor's appointment" story.
Suddenly my legs felt weak. I paused by the stoop of an apartment building and lit a cigarette with a shaky hand. Though taking a few puffs of a cancer stick usually calms me down, it didn't do it for me this time. I continued to walk, this time a little slower.
Within a few minutes I was standing underneath the familiar street sign that read "East 12th Street". I rounded the corner and, keeping my eyes on the dirty sidewalk, made my way towards Jimmy's place. There were noises though—unfamiliar sounds that made me look up.
There were police cars and ambulances surrounding the abandoned building. Surrounding the alleyway that had once been the entrance to my "home". I increased my pace, fearing the worst. That fear was only ensured as I saw the EMT men wheel out a figure on a stretcher from the alley. I tried to talk myself out of what I thought was happening—it's probably someone else. Probably some old hag that lives around Jimmy's place. Probably a patient—and Jimmy was hiding so he wouldn't be arrested. Somehow I wasn't convincing myself.
I walked up to a cop and casually asked, "What's going on here?" He was scribbling notes on a clipboard. Without looking up he replied, "Some guy who's been living in that abandoned building just collapsed." My heart began to beat faster and sweat beads trickled down the back of my neck. "You know the guy?" The police officer asked, looking me directly in the eye. I shook my head. "Feel bad for him, though." The cop still looked at me suspiciously. "And what are you doing out so late?" He asked. Oh shit. I wasn't the best at lying. "I... I couldn't sleep and I heard a commotion, so I just... came down to check it out." The officer, now satisfied with my excuse, turned back to his work.
I made my way over to the ambulance where I'd seen them load the stretcher on it. When I made sure there were no people looking, I ducked inside the ambulance. Jimmy lay on the stretcher, completely limp. His chest rose and fell slowly with each staggered breath. He looked older, different, from the man I met years ago. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open. I felt myself breaking down on the inside—the man who'd practically raised me, got me through the rough times, and at the same time ruined me—was dying.
"Jimmy." I whispered. "It's me... Jesus. I came by to tell you... I found Whatsername. I was going to tell you... " The lump in my throat kept me from going further. I regained my voice and continued, "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I... I just wanted to say goodbye."
Now, I've never been really religious, but right then—midnight on a Wednesday night, in that ambulance, on East 12th Street—a miracle happened. Jimmy opened his eyes and talked. "Jesus, you're here." The cocky smile that I'd always seen spread across his face. I couldn't believe it—he was talking. His sky blue eyes locked onto mine. "Glad you can see me before I go. So, you found Whatsername?" He chuckled, but the raspy laugh turned into a hacking cough. He closed his eyes for a minute, but when he opened them, I saw that familiar devilish twinkle that had always been in his eyes.
"You know, you were my favorite patient. Always had the biggest heart. Always went after what you wanted. And now you got it. I'm no use anymore... all my other patients either came clean or just... left me. You stay strong though." I smiled at him and nodded, unable to say anything. The whole thing was like a tidal wave of emotions. I could hear the EMT men heading over to the ambulance, and so did Jimmy. So he said his final goodbye.
"I'm going now. Stay strong... tell Whatsername I said goodbye... and I'll see you in hell."
Then he was gone.
Jimmy probably committed suicide. I don't know for sure—I never heard the results of the autopsy. From what he said, his life was no longer worth living. Not in that depressing way, though—he wanted to die, wanted to leave the Earth. He had done his work and was no longer needed. And though Jimmy had died that day and left this place, I still walk down East 12th Street, past the alleyway, where the red door stands at the end. And some days, if I listen close enough, I can hear his raspy chuckle, his voice, and I know... I'm not walking alone anymore.
THE END!!
((thanks to all the ppl who read and commented. :D))
Adrienne—or, Whatsername, as I sometimes call her now—told me I should go. I was skeptical at first. I didn't want to have anything to do with Jimmy. He'd kind of scared the shit out of me after our last meeting. Mike and Tre had wanted to know where I was going, but Adrienne covered up for me with the usual "doctor's appointment" story.
Suddenly my legs felt weak. I paused by the stoop of an apartment building and lit a cigarette with a shaky hand. Though taking a few puffs of a cancer stick usually calms me down, it didn't do it for me this time. I continued to walk, this time a little slower.
Within a few minutes I was standing underneath the familiar street sign that read "East 12th Street". I rounded the corner and, keeping my eyes on the dirty sidewalk, made my way towards Jimmy's place. There were noises though—unfamiliar sounds that made me look up.
There were police cars and ambulances surrounding the abandoned building. Surrounding the alleyway that had once been the entrance to my "home". I increased my pace, fearing the worst. That fear was only ensured as I saw the EMT men wheel out a figure on a stretcher from the alley. I tried to talk myself out of what I thought was happening—it's probably someone else. Probably some old hag that lives around Jimmy's place. Probably a patient—and Jimmy was hiding so he wouldn't be arrested. Somehow I wasn't convincing myself.
I walked up to a cop and casually asked, "What's going on here?" He was scribbling notes on a clipboard. Without looking up he replied, "Some guy who's been living in that abandoned building just collapsed." My heart began to beat faster and sweat beads trickled down the back of my neck. "You know the guy?" The police officer asked, looking me directly in the eye. I shook my head. "Feel bad for him, though." The cop still looked at me suspiciously. "And what are you doing out so late?" He asked. Oh shit. I wasn't the best at lying. "I... I couldn't sleep and I heard a commotion, so I just... came down to check it out." The officer, now satisfied with my excuse, turned back to his work.
I made my way over to the ambulance where I'd seen them load the stretcher on it. When I made sure there were no people looking, I ducked inside the ambulance. Jimmy lay on the stretcher, completely limp. His chest rose and fell slowly with each staggered breath. He looked older, different, from the man I met years ago. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open. I felt myself breaking down on the inside—the man who'd practically raised me, got me through the rough times, and at the same time ruined me—was dying.
"Jimmy." I whispered. "It's me... Jesus. I came by to tell you... I found Whatsername. I was going to tell you... " The lump in my throat kept me from going further. I regained my voice and continued, "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I... I just wanted to say goodbye."
Now, I've never been really religious, but right then—midnight on a Wednesday night, in that ambulance, on East 12th Street—a miracle happened. Jimmy opened his eyes and talked. "Jesus, you're here." The cocky smile that I'd always seen spread across his face. I couldn't believe it—he was talking. His sky blue eyes locked onto mine. "Glad you can see me before I go. So, you found Whatsername?" He chuckled, but the raspy laugh turned into a hacking cough. He closed his eyes for a minute, but when he opened them, I saw that familiar devilish twinkle that had always been in his eyes.
"You know, you were my favorite patient. Always had the biggest heart. Always went after what you wanted. And now you got it. I'm no use anymore... all my other patients either came clean or just... left me. You stay strong though." I smiled at him and nodded, unable to say anything. The whole thing was like a tidal wave of emotions. I could hear the EMT men heading over to the ambulance, and so did Jimmy. So he said his final goodbye.
"I'm going now. Stay strong... tell Whatsername I said goodbye... and I'll see you in hell."
Then he was gone.
Jimmy probably committed suicide. I don't know for sure—I never heard the results of the autopsy. From what he said, his life was no longer worth living. Not in that depressing way, though—he wanted to die, wanted to leave the Earth. He had done his work and was no longer needed. And though Jimmy had died that day and left this place, I still walk down East 12th Street, past the alleyway, where the red door stands at the end. And some days, if I listen close enough, I can hear his raspy chuckle, his voice, and I know... I'm not walking alone anymore.
THE END!!
((thanks to all the ppl who read and commented. :D))
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