The Bone Cutter

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"First question." He spoke, the match in his hand was lit and made me nervous. If he accidentally dropped it. . . "Let's start with something easy, if you were to kill yourself, how would you do it?"

I stared at him, "You call that easy?"   

"Answer the question, my fingers are suddenly feeling a bit tired-"

"Alright, alright." I thought about it for a moment, "Uhh, if I were to kill myself I'd probably take some pills."

"Pills? What are you fourteen?"

"Excuse me? So now you're critiquing how I'd kill myself?"

"Death is an art, why waste it on a bottle of poison? Guns are so much more exciting than swallowing pills and waiting to die." He thought about it, "In fact, anything is more exciting than that."

"You need to be put in a hospital. You need serious help."

"Question two." He said, completely ignoring my insult, "What scares you the most in this world?"

He hoisted himself up on a large rock, and sat on it, staring at me like he could see through my skull, into my thoughts. I refused to meet his eyes. "I don't know, I suppose something happening to my father?"

"Hmm," He thought about it, as if he had to ponder whether that was a good enough truth for him or not.

What an ass.

"Alright, boring, but alright. Question three," He was now observing the fire of the lit match in his hand like it were the most interesting thing in the world, "What are your thoughts on marriage?" I had a feeling he wasn't asking these questions just for the hell of it. It put me very on edge to think about.

"Inanis this is stupid-"

"Answer the question."

I huffed and leaned against a tree. "I don't know okay? I think marriage is lovely so long as both people love each other."

He didn't miss a beat, "Marriage is a document."

"Marriage is beautiful, at least it could be."

He hopped off the rock, and took a step closer, "There is nothing beautiful about a governmental document."

"The paper isn't the point, it's the fact that two people love each other enough to be together for the rest of their lives."

"And so, what do you think when the majority of those married eventually divorce? Is it still beautiful then?"

"That's another question."

"Then answer it."

My patience was dissolving fast, "Why do you get to ask all the questions? When is it my turn to ask something?"

He stared at me, and I stared back. Then he took a breath, "Question four," Inanis started to walk further down the path, and I hesitantly followed him. "Do you like pain?"

I watched him light another match, my irritation was masking my nerves, "That's the dumbest question you've asked yet. Of course, I don't like pain."

"Hmm," He glanced at me, "Why do I feel like you're lying?"

"Only someone as messed up as you would like pain."

His voice came out flat, "No, you're wrong. I don't like pain." His eyes narrowed, "I hate pain."

"Physical or mental?" He seemed like the type of guy who would relish when in pain. Someone who thrived with it.

He focused his gaze on the lit matches in his hand, "I'm asking the questions, not you." He hopped over a fallen log like it was nothing. I tried to follow his fluent movements, but nearly tripped while doing it. "Do you believe in God?" He asked as we both neared a bridge. It was an old stone bridge, with a mossy creek at least four feet deep under us. We both stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked down at the disgusting swamp-like creek. Inanis climbed up on the stone railing, his coat flying in the breeze as he stood.