Simpson Dip

A friend of mine got very interested in my writing recently.  He's been super supportive which was surprising to me!  He has been asking me to write stories for him.  He'll give me two words as sort of an inspiration, and I write from there.  This is one of the first I've written for him, and I thought it was actually pretty good!  So, I present to you, "Simpson Dip".

Simpson Dip: An Epic Tragedy

For my biggest and most surprising fan, Jason 'J-bone' Paulas.

I sat staring at the wall as I did on most Friday nights nowadays.  In actuality it was Saturday morning.  Early.  3:07 to be exact.  It had been two weeks, four days, and nine hours since I saw her.  I could still smell her on my clothes, tobacco and marshmallows.

Allow me to back up.  My name is Luke Wolff and exactly two weeks, four days, and thirteen hours ago I had been in the car on the way to my girlfriend's house.

My girlfriend, Shailene Green who despised the fact that her name rhymed, was the most messed up person I have ever met.  When we started dating she told me she couldn't be serious with me.  She didn't believe in love or romance or real life.  She did her own thing and I let her because I was head over heals for this girl.  We dated for three years and everyday I could tell that she was falling for me too, despite her efforts to keep me at arms length.  The night in question I arrived at her house at 2:43pm.  She was laying in bed under some blankets watching The Simpsons, her favorite show.  I prefer Futurama and despite my efforts to convert her, she rewatches every episode in order.

Shailene and I met in therapy.  We both have minor OCD.  I have this thing about time.  I always know exactly where I was at exactly what time in history.  Shai doesn't like to talk about her obsessions.  I have noticed that she has to have even numbers of everything and also that she won't watch anything besides The Simpsons which, like I said, she has to watch in order.

Despite her disorder she is the most beautiful, smokin' hot piece of ass I have ever met.  She lay in bed that day in little purple shorts that said "Fuck the System" across her perfectly round cheeks and a tee shirt that was a little too small on her and said "People like YOU are the reason people like ME need medication."  She was gorgeous.

We sat for three hours and twelve minutes watching her show and getting a little buzz from the fine brown morsels in that little round tin of dip.  I knew I was in love.  I can't explain how I knew she was the one but in our messed up world there can be no other way of knowing than just knowing you know?

At 6:00 I left her house not realizing that I would never see her almost golden brown eyes again.  It was 3:07am when I received the call.  Break in.  Two thugs shattered her first floor bed room window.  She was raped by one while the other robbed the home and shot her widowed father and her baby brother.  When the first was finished with her he shot her too and she fell to the floor of her bed room bleeding out onto 101 discs of every possible episode or movie of The Simpsons available for purchase.  Never living to buy the next season or DVD.  Never evening out her collection.  101.  The unevenness had always bothered her.

Two weeks, four days, and nine hours I've been staring at the wall barely holding on, counting minutes and seconds, and dying inside.