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Fluffy Donut

Part 1

The sun had just gone down as I sat on my sofa sipping a glass of wine and zoning out on some documentary about outer space. Once again Sam wasn’t home when he promised he would be and I had already opened my second bottle of Cabernet in an attempt to drink away the loneliness. Though Sam was a mega beast, I had somehow managed to Fall for him and I missed him when he wasn’t around. Which was most of the time these days.

It had only been about a year since Sam and I sat in his car speeding down the 405 freeway. Sam was in a good mood that night as we made our way into Hollywood. He had recently opened up an Electronic cigarette store on the infamous Melrose Avenue and was in the mood to celebrate his success; despite the fact that once again it was all paid for by his mommy.

Sam had his car stereo turned on full blast as he carefully scanned through his phone for the perfect track. Quickly he chose one, it was a song by the band Fall Out Boy.

“She says she’s no good with words but I’m worse…” he began to sing along, “Barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue.”

And then it hit me!

Mentally, I was back in the car with Donut. It was the same song he had sung to me years before while driving me home. There was the same gleam in his eyes, staring intensely at me as if I was about to become his prey. Too bad I was such a dumb bitch because I should have realized right then and there that this was a major sign of things to come.

But instead, I let out a little love sick sigh and thought to myself, “Ahhh! Now I have a ‘fluffy’ Donut.”

I was jerked out of my mind train by the front door opening and then the sound of someone taking a drag off of an e-cigarette. There was a pause followed by slow, thunderous foot steps.

“Hey,” Sam greeted me in his typical monotone voice.

I ignored him.

“Still not talking to me?”

I continued to silently stare at the TV.

“Whatever,” he concluded as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door. Within minutes the mixed smells of fecal matter, dirty fat man and strawberry electronic cigarette juice came wafting in from the hall.

A good hour had passed before the door reopened and my man blob came waddling out.

“Did you wash your hands?” I asked him.



Sam rolled his eyes, let out an annoyed grunt, and then walked over to the sink. He turned the faucet on and then did a quick rinse.

“Soap,” I scolded him like a child.

“What the fuck?” he yelled.

“Seriously Sam, that’s fucking disgusting. I know you haven’t showered in days, the least you can do is wash the shit off of your hands without having to be reminded.”

“You never complained about me not showering before.”

“Yeah I did!”

“Nope. You just didn’t care because you liked me,” he concluded.

I rolled my eyes.

“You haven’t talked to me for days,” Sam continued, “But now that you finally do it’s to insult me and tell me I stink?”

“I’m pissed at you Sam!”

“So what else is new?”

“Your mom was here all fucking fall! You promised me she wouldn’t be here MOST OF THE TIME! You lied, she isn’t coming here less, she’s here MORE! I waited all month for her to leave so we can be a family again. We are adults, this is supposed to be our home! It’s our turn to be the parents. When your mom is here you let her take over everything. She treats you like a teenager and you act like one when she’s around,” I took a deep breath, “She makes me sit in the back seat of the car!”

“Well she’s not here now, is she? I told you, my dad is working on it, OK? I would think you would want to take advantage of that fact but instead you choose to ignore me all week.”

“You have been gone all week! I haven’t heard a word from you, I reminded him.”

“I’ve been working,” he lied.

I had had enough. Angrily, I turned off the TV, grabbed my glass of wine and high tailed it into the bedroom. Once inside, I plopped down onto the bed and cried myself to sleep.

The sun had just barely started to peek through our bedroom curtains when I heard it.

It was a loud screeching sound unlike anything my ears had ever absorbed before, followed almost immediately by a whimpering cry.

Still half asleep, I felt the bed partially give way next me.

Unsure of what was happening, I reached out my arm and could feel it, soft and warm- It was Sam’s body. He was trembling.

This next moment will forever be etched into my mind.

“Sam? Sam, is that you? Sam? Are you alright?” I asked. 

“He’s dead!”

“What, who Sam?” I asked the question, though I was sure I already knew.

…To be continued.

Filed under: acohol, booze, boyfriend, Comedy, coward, dark humor, Dating, death, drama, Family, father, fight, Home, Humor, Uncategorized Tagged: annoyed, blob, cabernet, dad, dead, donut, ecig, electronic cigarette, fall out boy, fecal, freeway, fuck, hollywood, lonliness, man, melrose, mom, sam, shit, wine

This post first appeared on It's Not My Fault. | © Wendi Bear 2016, please read the originial post: here

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Fluffy Donut


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