House of Skin

Dear Eddy,

Wonder and enlightenment.

Two states of being.

I experienced both that night. I was constantly in awe and wonder of you. When that greasy bastard in the parking lot started to fight, you were there in an instant, hitting him over the head with that empty beer bottle. What a sound that made! Hardened glass impacting with flesh. He was a tough one, wasn’t he? Throat slit, bleeding like a pig, and still strong enough to take eight or ten good shots from that bottle. The top of his head looked like hamburger by the time he went down. It was incredible. My, but they hang on to their miserable lives, don’t they? It’s practically a crime.

I suppose I was taking an awful chance by having you lay him across the seat while I worked on him. Ah, well.

I didn’t mean to take his head off. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, I become a slave to the violence and addict to the blood. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how death and blood get me off. I think when I pulled his head free, I came. It was just too much.

But where was I? Oh yes, wonder and enlightenment. The aforementioned things filled me with a sense of wonder. But enlightenment. That came when I realized what our purpose was. You and I. We had a purpose that we could only fulfill together. Alone, we were just two threads, but woven together we formed a rope. We became a noose that was hungry for necks to stretch. And we found them, didn’t we? Oh yes, we certainly did.

Yours,

Cherry