Blood. All I saw was blood in my sink. The smell permeated the air, and it was all I could even taste. It was thick as if I were dead already. I could only think about my friends and family at the sight of this liquid over taking the room. I remember my doctor telling me I had cancer, what a joke. After I washed the last of myself down the drain, I downed a few shots of cough syrup and pain killers. Alone in my house, I did what I did everyday: watched the television and lit almost a half pack of red 100’s. I was calm now, knowing the pack was both my salvation and my coffin nail. Last thing I remember is a dream, that led to the fires of hell. My name is Robert Cools, and I drowned on red cancer inside and out.
December 12, 2007