Reader's discretion is advised. If you do read, play 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails in the background for best viewing.

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It starts with a beat. A steady pulse. Rhythmic. One, two, one, two, on, off, on, off. One note high, one note low, followed again by a high.

"I love this song!" shrieked in his ear, and that's all it took. The boy and his girl were in the crowd, thumping and grinding each other like they were trapped in a spin-drier. Alcohol brings that out in some people.

At the bar sat a different boy. This boy was alone. He was still reeling from the doctor's news: "I'm sorry, but your tumor is no longer dormant. You have a few weeks. A month tops." "I'm terminal?" The words echoed off the song, which mixed with his next shot. Shot down, the boy began to count out his bill slowly, aided by the sum of his consumption. With a laugh, he threw his wallet to the bartender and made to leave.

As the song reached its lyrical climax, she whispered about the ruckus, "Come with me." The boy felt a rush of blood, and the two made their way through the crowd towards the exit. In his haste, the one boy knocked roughly into the other, knocking him to the ground. Before apologizing, he was tugged out of the club by his girl. "Really, I'm fine," noted the morose boy, standing and wiping himself down.

The drunken boy staggered home. It took some careful hand-eye coordination to line up the key to the lock, but after several minutes the boy was inside his apartment. "No roommate!" he yelled, slamming the door. "No family! Hear boy!" Looks around expectantly. "And no dog!" A sharp pain from his brain cut into his woes.

In a matter of minutes, the boy and his girl were inside her flat. The trip there involved lots of groping and tongue wrestling. With the speed of a cheetah and the multi-limbed ability of an octopus, the two stripped each other bare, making out during the whole process. He threw himself on the girl, who eagerly accepted.

The boy stumbled into his bathroom, shedding his garments along the way. With a smack of his hand, the radio was on. Much to his surprise, the same song from the club was playing. The boy was again surprised, to see several bloody lines covering his forearm. Pausing momentarily, the boy cloudily remembered the self-mutilation, right after his visit to the doctor. "Oh yeah, " he muttered glumly.

The two somehow worked their way off the floor, into the bedroom, and on top of the bed. He thrust relentlessly at her from on top. Flailing her arm backwards, the girl turned on the CD player to repeat. Instantly, the song began blaring from the speakers.

The boy reached into the sink and picked up the broken bit of razor, a piece of his shaving ritual. The razor was stained red.

They had traded positions, the girl riding him like a horse. The bed boards slammed noisily against the wall, again and again and "Say it!" she yelled, quite obviously enjoying herself. Sharing her pleasure, he stifled a laugh and decided to humor her. He yelled "I want to (love) you like an animal!" Still straddling him, she picked up speed- quite a feat considering her current momentum. A neighbour politely hammered on the wall.

"The purpose," said the boy, slurring his words together, as he filled the bathtub. "Of going to the bar, was to get drunk," he reminded the air calmly. "To gain the courage to do what must be done." Tub full, the boy turned off the tap. "I will not die at the hands of God." The boy's hands held the razor tightly.

"Oh yeah," he moaned, stretched out fully on the bed, with his hands behind his ears. The girl declined to comment, as her tongue was already occupied. After several minutes, she disengaged, and they traded places once. The boy, on top again, took a random moment to kiss her slowly, before continuing.

Nude, the boy lowered himself into the water. Like a sniper hitting several specific targets on a crowded street, the boy sliced his veins proper. First one arm, then the next. He lay back in the tub, whose water was quickly turning red, and wondered...

The two had been going for quite some time, and neither wished an end to their fun. From a distance, he could feel his juice rising. He was in mind-numbing ecstasy, but several thoughts still permeated his conscious: Prophylactic? This is just sex, not love, right? Is she clean? What if she cheats on me? Abortion?

The boy was drifting slowly and painfully into death, and wished it would end soon. From afar, the boy could feel the release, and began counting down. He was losing blood rapidly, and his last thoughts jogged slowly through his brain: What will the neighbours think? Afterlife? How long until someone finds my body? Who gets my money and stuff? and finally, Why me?

Finally, he exploded into her.
Eventually, the boy died alone in a bathtub.

For one moment, the boy felt God's presence. His brain shutdown, and he was one with the creator. He was happy.

The song spins rhythmically out of control. The lyrics ended long ago, but the song is still ending. After a bit, the song pecks out a few notes on piano, before coming to a full and complete stop.

Hours later, the girl asked, "Why did you scream 'Oh God' before?" "Did I? When?" "Uh, you know." "No." "Before." "Oh. I dunno." He shrugged off his momentary connection with God. "You ready to go again?"

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-Originally posted August 8th 2006