Isn’t it Wicked?

            “I’m gonna fake my death.”

            “What do you mean, you’re going to fake your death?”

            “As an April fool’s joke…I’m gonna fake my death.”

            “That’s pretty sick.”

            “I know, isn’t it wicked?”

*****

            Josh was supposed to be home two hours ago. His mother, Jennifer, had been pacing outside, up and down the spring lawn for half that time. The school bus is never this late, she thought.

            As she was about to turn around and head back towards her sun splotched Victorian house, she heard tires screech around the corner two houses down on her left.

            The unmarked van sped up the street towards her and the door opened as it flew by with lightning speed. Something was thrown from it and Jen didn’t even realize this until the van was at the other corner, turning right, completely ignoring the stop sign.

            Slowly, as if expecting the worst, Jen walked up to the object lying in the freshly cut grass. Then, it was as if a cloud as big as the moon itself covered the sun, for all light was dimmed as Jennifer stood horrified over her son’s hastily discarded book bag.

*****

            “Round one’s done.”

            “What’s that?”

            “I had my book bag thrown from a speeding van.”

            “And what’s that supposed to prove?”

            “That I’m never going to be able to bring it back home!”

            “Wicked!”

            “Isn’t it though?”

*****

            Red and blue lights flooded the living room of the two story home and Jennifer sat on the couch, weeping. She had called the police and they had already searched the book bag for any possible leads and found nothing except a note. This note was the cause of Jen’s frustration.

Not one more time will you see your son.

Nothing can undo all that you have done.

            Jen let out another wale of a cry when she overheard a cop read the not to a colleague.

            “Mam,” said one of the cops. He was burly and looked as though he could easily fill the spot of any self respecting paper towel icon. “Do you know of any one who you may have angered?”

            Bursting into another crying spurt, Jen chocked out, “It’s all my fault!..”

            “Why do you say that mam?”

            Jen took her head out of her hands for the first time, revealing her smeared mascara and wrinkly face. “Did you read the note?” She stood up, shoved her shaking head closer to the cops and shouted, “Did you read the goddamn note?”

*****

            “Hahahahaha…”

            “That good huh?”

            “You have no idea. Half of the police force was there.”

            “Did they find the note?”

            “They had to, it was right on top.”

            “Excellent!”

            “Don’t you mean wicked?”

*****

            Two days had passed since the book bag had been thrown from the van. Jen spent those two nights crying in her bed. She wasn’t sure what she had done, but she was convinced beyond a doubt that she was responsible for her son’s death, even though the body had not been found.

            This thought is what kept Josh’s father, Jeff, on this side of sanity. He loved his wife dearly and would not know what to do with himself if she were no longer with him, but he could not stand her in her current state.

            At night in bed, “It’s all my fault!” In the shower in the morning, “He’s gone and it’s all my fault!” Every moment of the day, “Why does it all have to be my fault?!”

            She cried enough tears in those two days to fill the Hudson and she just kept going. Jeff was sick of it and he snapped on the second day of the nonstop tears. “Would you just SHUT UP ALREADY?!”

            He was upset at the untimely death of his only son but her constant whining had pushed him over the edge.

            “If you’re that miserable, why don’t you just join him?!”

            Jeff had never yelled at her before and the surprise of his red hot fury shut Jen up immediately.

            “How can you not care!?”
            “I do care, but I’m not going to sit around and cry about it the rest of my life! MY GOD! I’d rather die then do that! We have to move on!”

            “It’s only been two days!!”
            “I know! And I’d rather spend a lifetime without him then listen to two more days of your bitching!”

            “You heartless prick!”

            “Heartless! I’m not heartless! Heartless would be letting you continue like this forever! You need to get your life back in order!...Or end it!!”

            She slapped him, leaving a red mark behind on his face. “How could you!?”

            “My comments are nothing more then what needs to be said…the truth.”

            “Well I apologize for loving our only son.”

            “Do you honestly think that I don’t feel the same way that you do? Whining about it will get you no where but the nut house.”

            Jen had had enough, she didn’t reply. The death of her son and the heated fight with her husband had left her depressed and emotionally drained. Without another word, she walked upstairs and slammed the bathroom door behind her as she entered.

*****

            “Do you think they believe I’m dead?”

            “Hard to say, have you heard anything in the last two days?”

            “No, not a thing.”

            “Mmmm…”

            “My thoughts exactly.”

            “I don’t know what to tell ya.”

            “…I’m gonna call it off. I’m gonna come clean.”

            “They are going to hate you.”

            “That, my friend, is wicked.”

*****

            The dust had settled after the fight and Jeff was clearing his thoughts before he went up to apologize to his wife. When he finally worked out exactly what he wanted to say and had it memorized, he walked upstairs.

            As he got to the door the shower started. He knocked on the door but Jen didn’t answer or say anything. He waited another minute to collect his thoughts again, and knocked a second time. Again he got no response except for the water from the running shower. Turning the knob, he found the door unlocked.

            He pushed it open and shrieked in horror when he saw his wife. Blood was smeared on the wet porcelain, dirtying the otherwise spotless and white bathroom. A shower of cold water splashed upon his wife’s motionless body. On the floor laid the razor she had used to cut down her arm and take the life from her body. It lay in a pool of Jen’s blood thinned from the water.

            On the mirror above the sink, Jen had used a bar of soap to write her final message, “It was all my fault!”

            Jeff filled with fury. He ran into the bathroom and slammed his white knuckled fist into the mirror. It shattered, sending shards of the glass to the floor in a shower that much resembled the one still cascading over his wife’s lifeless body.

            He walked up to her, got inside the tub, let the water use him as it pleased, and picked her up. He embraced her for a while, rubbed the back of her head, and let her still spilling blood stain his clothes as he wept.

*****

            “So, have you told them yet?”

            “No, Not yet. I’m afraid of what they’ll say.”

            “Well, you did fake your death…that’s pretty severe.”

            “Yeah…but it has to be like the best April fool’s joke ever!”

            “It was pretty wicked.”

            “That’s what I hear.”

*****

            Jeff got out of the tub. His clothes were soaked. It looked like he just went for a swim. Water still dripped down his face from his wet hair. With his left hand, bloody from holding his wife, he wiped the water off of his forehead.

            He then marched across the hall. He walked into his bedroom and stopped when he got to the nightstand. He sat on the bed, which was covered with a cherry red bed spread, and opened the drawer. The sun from the outside shown through the window and reflected upon the metal of the handgun that that drawer contained. Before he did anything else, he closed his eyes and looked towards the heavens.

            “Her smile, her kiss, her company, her love, you took it all away from me! It wasn’t her fault and I don’t know why she kept saying it was! IT WASN’T HER DAMN FAULT! BUT YOU WANTED HER O LORD! AND YOU GOT HER! BUT WE WERE ONE AND THE SAME! SHE GOT INJURED, I FELT HER PAIN. SHE GOT EXCITED, I FELT THAT SAME EXCITEMENT. SHE LOVED SOMETHING; MY HEART WENT TO THAT AS WELL. WE WERE SO CLOSE THAT WITH HER LIFE SO GOES MINE!!!”

            He grabbed the gun from the drawer and put the barrel against his temple. The cold steel slipped around on his still wet head. He was about to pull the trigger when he heard the front door shut down stairs. “Hello…?” It was Josh.

            What the hell? Thought Jeff.

            “Anyone home? I’m not dead!!”

            You don’t say!?

            “It was an April fool’s joke guys!” He was coming up the stairs now.

            A joke? My wife is dead because that bastard wanted to play a joke?

            Josh was at the top of the stairs and was now coming to check the bedroom.

            “You guys better put you clothes on!”

            “Were not having sex you asshole! She’s dead!” Jeff yelled this one. He pulled the gun away form his head and pointed it at the door as Josh came running in.

            “What do you mean dead?” he asked, walking forward.

            “You killed her you sick son of a bitch! With your stupid little game. YOU KILLED HER!”

            “Oh!” Josh said, having an epiphany, “I get it!”

            “Get what?”

            “Josh started to laugh. “This is a good one. It might even be better than mine!”

            Jeff started to shake as he placed his finger on the trigger.

            “APRIL FOO...” Josh was cut short by the gun. Blood trickled down his face from the hole in his forehead. He fell backwards and was dead before he hit the ground. Jeff shot him again, this time in the heart. Blood spurted from the wound and Jeff dropped the gun to his feet as he fell to the ground with tears already forming in his eyes again.

*****

            “I’ve been in prison for six months!”

            “Well, you did shoot your son.”

            “Because he killed my wife!”

            “Did he really? I thought she killed herself?”

            “Well, she did. But only because the little bastard faked his death as an April fool’s joke.”

            “Why on earth would he do that?”

            “I have no idea!”

            “…”

            “Isn’t it wicked?”

The End

[A/N: Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve uploaded anything but I’ve been busy with a lot of things in the last few weeks. Yep…anywho…you should review! Even if you hated it…I don’t mind…and if you have a logical reason for hating it, which is very plausible, I might actually agree with you. So…yeah…review!!!]