God’s Bathroom Floor








The floor beneath me is cold. I turn my head to the left and my cheek kisses the smooth tile. I’m alive. I open my eyes and stare at the white ceiling above, the light blinding me. All too quickly I’m lost again; a prisoner inside my own mind.
I’m with Julie. I remember this day vividly. She takes my hand and whispers sweet things in my ear. This was before all the fighting. Before I lost control. Before Jacob had offered me the fuel to run my life straight into the ground. I look up at her, trying to commit every little thing about her to memory. They way she laughs, the way she runs her fingers through her hair and tugs when she’s stressed; all the things I’d sworn I couldn’t live without.
I cough. Blood runs down my cheek and drips on the bathroom floor. I have no idea how long I’ve been here; long enough for day to melt into dusk. I wriggle my toes, making sure I can still move. I’m relieved when I feel them jerk a bit. I try to raise my head, but it immediately smacks back down on the ceramic tile.
My phone rings. I laugh. I know it’s my dad. “Just checking in,” he’d say. Making sure I wasn’t riding the white horse. Wonder what he’d say if he knew I was drowning in a pool of my own saliva, the result of my daily mount with my beloved heroine. I ignore my phone and enjoy my high.
I’m at my brother’s wedding. I feel wind on my face from the bridesmaids rushing by to fix their hair or their makeup or, hell, maybe jab a needle in their arm. I












rub the soft spot in the crook of my elbow where I’d injected the poison over an hour ago. I felt good. I watch him lean down to kiss his new wife. I think her name is Carmen.
“You okay, man?” my brother, all smiles, stands in front of me. How long has he been standing there? I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “Yeah, man. You look really happy.” He starts to say something else, but I’m already back on the bathroom floor. I don’t think I’ve ever been this high up, I think only now of the quick fall back down that’s sure to come soon. Maybe. Maybe it wouldn’t come. Maybe I could stay up here forever. I’m quickly ripped out of this fantasy by a slight knocking. No, someone is banging on the bathroom door. Suddenly the door flies open, hitting my leg. I barely feel it.
Shouting. I hear shouting. My shirt is ripped open. “Clear!” a voice shouts, a man I think. Electricity courses through my body. “We’re losing him!” the same voice. My head falls to the right and I open my eyes just barely. I smile. Man, God has nice tile.