Rest in Piss, Asshole!

One day, last week, I was with my friend, Samantha. I was helping her unpack her belongings as she had moved into her new apartment. She was using a box cutter but was distracted by talking about a hot guy she liked at work and cut herself, on her arm.

An ugly wound. I felt a bit queasy (not for the reasons you might presume) as I ran to get a clean towel.

I made Sam wrap the hand towel around her arm and I drove us to the nearest hospital. I parked as close to the ER doors as I legally could. I was amazed the parking was free, here.

I helped Sam inside the doors that opened automatically with a quiet "woosh." We passed through the waiting-to-be-seen section and to the check-in counter. A nurse got Sam into the back pretty quickly. A Physician, a man, 6'2, with pretty large muscles peeled back the privacy curtain; the loud rasp of the metal curtain rings set my teeth on edge. I couldn't repress a slight shudder.

He unwrapped the blood-soaked towel from my friend's forearm. I started to get tunnel vision when I glimpsed the grotesquely gaping wound. I was suddenly transported several years in my horrible memories.

I saw in my mind's eye; blood spraying; internal bodily places I wish I had never seen.

I started to feel panicky; the Physician and the RN started to treat my friend who was looking quite pale in her own right.

I looked at Sam into her beautiful, warm, brown eyes with my pale blue ones and said quietly, "I'm gonna go get some air; will you be alright if I leave for a bit?"

"I'm fine, Jeannie (my name is Jeannette but everyone calls me Jeannie) you can go," said Samantha.

The nurse glanced at me and the look on her face told she must have be thinking: I am squeamish; maybe I would go face down on the linoleum.

I turned on my heel and strode right out of the doors and through the waiting area. I quickly walked to the ambulance bays area and noticed this low, concrete ledge that wrapped around the side of the building. I nodded to myself, perfect.

I squeezed past some vehicles and climbed up a secluded spot on the ledge. Although, I could see a section of the sidewalk to my left.

I folded my long legs into the lotus position and placed my upturned hands on my knees. I closed my eyes and began my Zen meditation; I used it to calm my racing, anxious mind.

I pictured a steam train sitting at a train station. I did not allow the train to move. It sat, on its tracks, belching steam/smoke and tooting its horn.

I felt my rapid breathing slow; my heart rate calm. I concentrated on inner serenity; always an epic battle.

I heard someone, a man, say, "whatcha doing?" He sounded intrigued and slightly amused.

Without opening my eyes I said, "Zen meditation" and gave him the basics of the practice.

I opened my eyes and he was cute; a couple of years older than my 21. He was maybe 5'11 with blonde, wavy hair and grey eyes.

"I'm Andrew," he greeted me while he put out his hand to shake mine. I said, quietly, "I am Jeannette (i spelled it out; people always fuck up spelling my name, *I am not Janet!*) and grasped his hand, firmly. His hand was larger than mine;

I smiled softly. I wasn't particularly friendly nor trusting. His EMT uniform wasn't even enough to convince me he wasn't a potential threat.

However, I am affable and magnanimous at times. I began to unbend my legs, about to hop down from my perch on the ledge before heading back inside of the hospital to my friend.

I heard a bad noise, like something evil had borne itself from the fiery pits of hell to my left and my head quickly swiveled. Then, I saw *him.*

The Psychopath! The one that had tried to murder my friend and had almost succeeded! My friend started doing hard drugs afterwards and had OD'd last year. I was in torment; shame, guilt, grief. *Anger.*

I turned quickly to the EMT, Andrew as I roughly shoved him and muttered, "get the fuck back in your rig and lock ALL the doors!" He was confused so I said, quietly, "he's a fucking psychopath and enjoys hurting people. He will kill you or worse. Now, fucking go!"

He went.

I needed to distract The Psycho like a Kildeer feigning a broken wing. If The Psycho knew I had a friend and she was vulnerable he would murder her just to torment me.

The Psycho, that rat bastard, had spotted me too. My heart began to beat harder: I forced myself to only show nonchalance. I knew if I showed fear it all would be over before it even started.

I slowly slid down the ledge, making certain my legs wouldn't buckle. If I showed vulnerability like a little prey animal he would devour me.

I had been studying Sun Tsu's Art of War. An ancient writing but still relevant. When I felt weak I acted strong. When I felt strong I acted weak.

I had generations of warriors in my family tree, going back hundreds of years. I felt their strength flow through my veins. I looked the fucker right in his beady, rat-like eyes as he approached me.

"Don't you remember me?" He said, wearing a sneer on his countenance.

I have about 4 inches on the little shit so I replied, "Sorry. I set my standards a little taller than that" as I mockingly gestured with a flat hand at his lack of stature. I watched the anger take hold of him and I smiled. Great, he's falling for it already, I thought.

I took a step back and began to eke around the side of the ambulance as the little shit stalked me. I banged my head on the big sideview mirror that was sticking out and yelled, "fuck!" As I winced.

"What did you just call me?! You fucking, dumb bitch?!" screamed The Psycho.

"Oh, I called you fucking, remorseless, bastard. You tiny, limped-dicked piece of shit!"

I was too focused on my gambit to notice the EMT using his CB radio to call for help. I had seen cop cars nearby, parked on my way in with Sammy and I hoped there would be some cops around to arrest the psycho. I would get him to batter me with witnesses watching.

The psychopath threw a low punch and caught me in my ribs as I dashed around the front of the ambulance. I briefly grabbed the hood as pain arced through my side. No time to be a pussy, I told myself. He won't stop. Do you want to keep looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life?

"Damn," I said as I moved to the open space between the parking spots. The Psycho tried to kick my right knee but i dodged the blow.

"Hey, you're an egregious mistake! Your mother should have swallowed!" I threw my head back and laughed at his outraged expression. This is too fucking easy, I thought to myself.

"You fucking cunt! I'm gonna kill you! You testified against me and I went to prison!"

I rolled my eyes in contempt. "I'd do it again, you dumbass son of a whore. Whatever it takes to put you away for good. Fuck you, your family tree looks like a flagpole!"

I waggled my pinky finger suggestively at him, gesturing at his crotch while I snorted in amusement. Indicating his lack of virility.

The Psychopath brought out a knife; it wasn't very big but enough to make me swallow, involuntarily. Burgeoning terror began to take over. A naked blade is sufficient to make the burliest of men break out in a sweat.

"So, you really are a coward! You can't even rumble with a woman without a stupid, feeble weapon, you little bastard? WTF? You're beyond pathetic!" I yelled.

I heard a deep, male voice resonate behind me. The voice commanded, "drop the knife!"

I half turned and saw a grizzled, very fit, middle-aged police officer standing to my right. He had what looked like a 9mm to me trained on The Psycho.

The Psycho told the cop to shut the fuck up and threatened to kill me and him. I was surprised at his brazen foolishness.

I moved out of the way; I looked over and the EMT was exiting his ambulance. Oh shit, I thought, stay there! I didn't want him to get stabbed or shot!

The EMT grabbed my upper arm and yanked me back to the right side of his bus; there was another one parked in the spot beside it. Kind of felt safe.

The cop got closer to the Psycho but not too close. The Psycho made a move like he was going to run at me with his knife. My muscles tensed, ready to fight for my life.

Two shots rang out. The Psycho hit the pavement, moaning and bleeding.

I looked into the EMT's eyes in silent gratitude before I turned and walked to where the Psycho lay. He seemed to be dying, at least from what I could tell. He was breathing weird but he was still conscious. Barely.

The cop had secured the knife already so I was safe as I bent down and said, quietly, to the Psycho:

"This was for Galen. My friend. You killed him. His spirit. He was a wonderful, generous, good-natured person and you've deprived the world of someone who was studying to become a scientist; to cure cancer. "

The Psycho's eyes were turning glassy as he choked on his own blood; I needed to hurry.

"You are a waste of oxygen. You never should have even been born. You're on your way to Hell where you belong. Rather than make something good out of your life you ruined it. All your foolish, evil actions have lead you here, laying on this cold concrete, bleeding out, cutting your miserable existence short."

"You will be forgotten. Even by me. I will never think on you again. I will never again speak your name. I am free, now. I have won. At last. Galen is vindicated." "Rest in piss, asshole!"

I looked up at the sky while a tear trailed down my cheek, "I hope it's enough, Galen. Best I could do. I wish you were here. I miss you every day."

Some people had come from the hospital to try to save the Psycho's life. I had a feeling it was an exercise in futility.

I had been so fixated on speaking my truth I had tuned reality out. Someone shoved me out of the way. Startled, I toppled backward with an "oof," as I held my bruised ribs and groaned.

I got on all fours and forced myself to concentrate: time to stand up, Jeannette, gotta go check on Sammy.

The EMT turned away from the Psycho and helped me up. I wobbled a bit, suddenly spent. Adrenaline was leaving.

I told him, quietly. Everything. All of it.

He sighed and gave me a gentle hug. He rubbed my back as he held me and I felt like melting.

I turned, reluctantly, to walk slowly back inside the building and went directly to Sammy.

I sat on the uncomfortable, hard plastic chair near her, slowly. I breathed, trying not to make my ribs hurt more.

I opened my eyes and Sammy was looking at me with worry.

Everyone had heard the gunshots. She was worried I'd been shot. The ER had gone on lockdown and everyone had been taking cover, inside.

I quietly explained. She knew about Galen and all of that and she was horrified the psycho had found me.

They brought the psycho in on a gurney. Someone was on top, pumping his chest.

They put the gurney in a big treatment room past Sammy's little, curtained room.

Lots of people were feverishly trying to save the piece of shit. I hoped they would fail.

I carefully stood up and with my arm wrapped around my bruised ribs. I watched from the other side of the big glass walls. I heard, "time of death..." and then I heard a woman who had gone through his pockets say, "he's an organ donor!" I thought I must be hallucinating. I guess he wasn't paying attention when he got his ID.

They used parts of the Psycho to save a cancer patient, a kid, and a bunch of other people. Some good came from so much trauma after all.

Fin?