Red Rum

An Itch You Can't Scratch

"Hey Red, I got a surprise for you," said Jeremy when I walked in the door.

I ignored him. I already knew what his "surprise" was. It was the same thing every day. It wasn't like I wasn't looking forward to the surprise because, trust me, I was. But, I couldn't let him know that. If I did, then he'd want something in return, something I wasn't wiling to give him.

"I got a surprise for you," he repeated.

I continued to ignore him and walked over to the fridge, pulling out the orange juice.

"Red!" he yelled, irritated.

"What?!" I snapped back at him, slamming my glass of juice down on the counter.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he spoke again. I sipped my juice patiently. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he asked in a low voice "Why are you ignoring me?"

Because I'm in love with you, is what I wanted to say. But, I couldn't tell him that, because then he'd want to be with me. Just because I'm in love with him, doesn't mean I want to be with him. That would mean commitment. That would mean letting him in, letting him know the real me. I didn't want him to see the real me. The real me was sick and twisted. The real me belonged in jail or a mental institution. The real me was a murderer. 

So, I swallowed my confession, and instead I shrugged and said, "Because I feel like it...."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I guess he decided against it because no sound came out. 

"Whatever," he sighed.

Oh God, I had hurt him again! I laughed, trying to lighten the mood but it sounded forced.

"So where's my surprise?" I asked, trying to sound cheerful. 

He smirked and walked over the couch where his book bag was resting. After rummaging through it for a few second, he found it and pullled it out, holding it in the air victoriously. I grinned. I couldn't help it, he was just so cute. 

He tossed the bag of grass at me. I caught it as it narrowly avoided smacking me in the face. The contents inside the bag called out to me. It wanted me to smioke it just as much as I did. I sniffed, inhaling the musty sweet smell. Hmm....God, had it really only been a mere twenty four hours since the last time I lit up? It felt like it had been far longer than that. 

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 "I didn't know you had a twin, Red," he said. We had been smoking nonstop for the past ten minutes. He wanted to finish the whole bag that night because he didn't want to keep it any longer than he had to. He already had one strike against him for possession of marijuana and didn't need another.

I giggled like a silly school girl.

"What are you talking about, stupid?" I questioned.

"I have no idea...." he replied, giggling.

"Wow, we are so high. So high we could fly. High enough to die. We're so high we're....dry?" I mused, laughing at my own lame rhyme. He joined in on my laughter and before I knew it we were both rolling on the floor laughing our arses off.

"Oh God, Red, that was so lame. And yet, I can't stop laughing!" he exclaimed in between fits of laughter. I giggled.

"Maybe it's the pot, dumbo," I suggested.

"Nah, I don't think that's it.. I think its...." he trailed off.

"You know what I think it is?" I asked suddenly.

He chuckled. "No, and I don't think I want to, either. You know what happens when you think." he teased.

 "Hardy har har! No, stupid, I'll tell you what I think. I think...I think...." I trailed off. Uh-oh. It was starting again...

"What's wrong?" he asked lazily.

"I'm itching," I thought.

Only, I guess I had spoken out loud, because Guy asked, "Where? I'll scratch it for you."

I laughed cynically and told him, "This isn't the kind of itch you can scratch."

I was itching, all right, Itching to cause someone pain, itching to see them bleed. Itching to kill.