“Why couldn’t we be friends?” She asked, teary-eyed. He stared back at her, not comprehending what was going on. In his hand was the gun he had, only a moment before, put to his head, and pulled the trigger. He looked away from her and to the gun. “How..”
“Let me explain,” She said, suddenly standing close to him, her face barely an inch from his. For moment he thought she might kiss him, but instead a satisfying smack echoed in the emptiness, and his cheek stung. He dropped the gun, which he barely noticed made no sound as it hit the ground. He looked back at her, and she smiled sweetly. “Do you love me?” Her voice carried no trace of the malice that only a second before caused her to slap him.
“Um, I..” He stuttered. She kneed him in the groin and stepped back as he fell to the ground. To him, it had felt as if he had been hit with a mallet. “You mean you don’t love me?!” She yelled, putting her hands on her hips. He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, and a sickening feeling in his gut. He wanted to throw up.
“You told me you loved before. Remember all those times? Did you lie?” He said something unintelligible. “Excuse me?” She said in a rage, and she kicked him in the face with her pointed shoe. He spat blood as he fell over. “Did you just want to fuck me? Oh,” She brought her index finger to her cheek thoughtfully. “That’s right. You said you couldn’t settle for friendship. Now,” She walked over to him and knelt down. “Why is that?” He spat more blood and groaned. She patted his cheek. “Come on, Johnny. Spit it out.” She giggled. Johnny groaned again. She snapped her fingers.
Next thing he knew, Johnny was hanging from a cross, naked, and spikes driven into his hands and feet. She stood before him, eyeing him seductively. “My, my. What a small cock!” She giggled again, and grabbed his flaccid penis. It grew harder as she stroked it. “Is this what you want?” Johnny was torn between the pain in his hands and feet and her stroking him. Then she put her mouth on him, and swirled her tongue around the tip. The pain seem to fade to the back of his consciousness when she took him entirely in her mouth, and bit down. Hard. Johnny screamed. Her lower and upper jaw met after cutting through muscle and flesh. She tore away and spat the bloody member on the floor. Her face was covered in blood. She smiled and licked her lips. Johnny whimpered. Then she snapped her fingers.
Johnny lay on the floor, fully clothed. He instinctively grabbed his groin. Everything was intact. He sighed in relief. Before him, in a black leather armchair, sat a man dressed in black who resembled him. A very tired, distraught-looking twin. “So tell me,” he said, crossing one leg. “Why couldn’t you be friends with her?”
Johnny propped himself up on his elbows. “Do you know what it’s like to be rejected?”
The counterpart cupped his hands on his knee and said matter-of-factly, “I can’t feel. But I can understand.”
“So,” Johnny said, sitting upright, crossing his legs, “do you understand?”
“Certainly. You humans take it incredibly personally, though you shouldn’t. Rejection is God’s way of saying, ‘They’re not right for you.'”
Johnny laughed. “Yeah? So is no one right for me? Or can’t He decide who would be a good fit?”
“I can’t answer that. But it doesn’t matter now. You’re dead.”
“Why can’t you answer? Are you not allowed to tell me, or does He not tell you?”
“He doesn’t tell us much.” He shrugged. “He works in mysterious ways, as they say.”
A moment of silence followed. “So,” the counterpart said. “Tell me why friendship with this girl wasn’t enough.”
“Because,” Johnny began slowly. “I’m tired of not being enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m tired of only being good enough to be a friend…” His voice trailed off. Several seconds later he continued. “Watching them get into these relationships with these shitty guys is like being unable to walk and talk and watching a blind man walk off a cliff.”
“So,” the counterpart uncrossed his leg, and crossed the other one. “These girls are blind, in an emotional sense, in your opinion?”
“Yes, yes they are.”
“And you have the power to save them, but they don’t see it?”
“Exactly.”
“A lot of credit you give yourself.”
“Yeah..” Johnny nodded slightly. “I just,” he continued tearfully. “I don’t know. Being friends is O.K., I guess. I just want to be loved. I want someone to want me. You can love your friends, and they can love and want you, but only to an extent. You can only hug your friends. I just…don’t get it…” Johnny cried a little harder. The counterpart leaned forward in his chair and, to Johnny’s amazement, turned back into..her..right before his eyes. “You ever think,” she said, “that you were right? That maybe you are just worthless?”
“Wha-what?” Suddenly she stood over him, the chair gone. He looked up at her. She bent down and grabbed his throat, lifted him up. “Maybe you were right all along.” Her breath smelled…burnt. Johnny cringed. “Maybe you are worthless! Maybe,” her voiced changed back into the counterpart’s,” God does make mistakes!” And she threw him on the ground.
“And,” she said, walking over to him. “We have the rest of eternity to figure out why you lied to me.” She laughed and snapped her fingers.
majorthinker 
Posted on June 8, 2013
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