Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“When does a killer become a killer?”
I nod. “I don’t know, but it’s always fascinated me. The conception of a killer. I used to fixate on mass shootings. I’d do so much research on the killers, trying to get inside of their heads to understand. My parents used to say understanding a killer would be impossible. Yet I felt like I could. Not like I wanted to kill anyone, just … I understood. You know?”
Felix takes several more gulps of his wine. “I’m about to find out.”
I reach for the bottle of wine.
Felix raises an eyebrow. “Shall I get you a glass?”
Bringing it to my nose, I take a slow whiff. Then … I take a sip.
And another sip.
And eventually, I consume the rest of the bottle. A nice buzz. Felix can’t kill me if his mind is clear, and I’m not sure I can die with one.
It’s bizarre how methodical we are while we finish dinner and dessert. We clear the dining room table and wash the wine glasses. I put the silverware in the dishwasher while Felix takes out the trash. Then I take a shower, shaving everything but my head.
Floss.
Brush my teeth.
Dry my hair.
I trim my fingernails and toenails.
Deodorant.
Lotion on my legs.
Why? I have no idea. It feels necessary.
We drive in silence to the storage unit. I completely undress, and Felix doesn’t question it for a second. He knows it’s easier to use the defibrillator, perform any necessary procedures, or administer medications if I am naked.
I never prepared to die the first time. I know people do it. Suicidal people. Terminally ill people. Inmates on death row.
“I need to say this,” Felix says, holding the bag in his hands while I sit on the edge of the hospital bed. “If you survive death, you will likely have severe, permanent neurological damage. Language, behavior, mood, and cognition disturbances. I don’t know what kind of life you imagine, but the chances of you miraculously coming out of this without those issues is so close to zero, I can’t put enough zeros after the decimal. I need … really need to know you understand this. I need to know this is what you want. I need to know you are making this decision with a sound mind.”
I think his buzz has worn off. Mine is still swirling in my head, but it doesn’t numb my conscience to the words he’s saying.
“If you weren’t doing this for me, I would take my own life. And I’d do it in a way that no one would be around to save me. So please always, always remember that you didn’t kill me. I’m already dead. And while I can’t be him in this life any longer, I’ve loved my life. I love my family. I loved my job. And I love Colten to the very deepest parts of my soul. So for this life I love, this life I don’t want to leave, I owe it one last chance. I owe it the greatest risk, no matter how tiny the chance might be. I am making this decision with a sound mind, even if slightly buzzed.” I manage a small grin, but Felix struggles to find one of his own.
“No keeping a vegetable. Understood? Throw out the vegetable.”
After a few seconds, Felix nods.
First, he inserts an IV and makes sure the crash cart and epinephrine are ready.
Then he walks behind me and ties my wrists together so I can’t fight him. My heart jumps, gallops, takes off like a fighter plane. When he walks around to the front of me again, I blink, and several tears work their way out.
Felix isn’t immune to the harsh reality either. His Adam’s apple bounces over and over while he glances toward the ceiling to keep from blinking.
“Thank you,” I whisper when I can’t find a strong voice behind the emotion.
The adrenaline.
The fear.
I’m scared. I don’t want to die. But I can’t be him. I say this to myself over and over again. I wish it made it easier to let go, but it doesn’t.
Felix stares at the bag in his hands. A gun would be easier and faster. Carbon monoxide would be more peaceful. A drug overdose would increase my chances of coming back. But this … this is how he has to die. This is how he has to leave me. Of that, I am certain. Winston left that life by hanging. I’m not asking Felix to do that to me, but this will be close. Close enough.
When Felix lifts his gaze to mine, I nod once.
He puts the bag over my head and seals it with a tight grip and several firm twists. Felix’s jaw clenches while he holds the bag in place and closes his eyes. I don’t want to fight, but I do. I don’t want to panic, but I do. I don’t want to feel pain, but I do. My oxygen hungry retinas cause my vision to blur while my mind tries to change its mind. It’s too late. There is no going back now. There is only … darkness.