Page 1 of Requiem

Prologue: Jeremy

Watching my father die isn’t nearly as entertaining as I’d hoped it would be. It’s kind of cliché, actually. Even in the throes of death, the stupid son of a bitch is underwhelming. He’s clutching at the collar of his shirt, trying to pull it free of the buttons that are causing it to strangle him. His face is a darkening red, and his frantic eyes are getting larger by the second. His breath is coming in labored wheezes.

The one thing I do find interesting, is the fact that not once has he reached out to me, mouthed to me, or begged me with his eyes to help him. That’s probably because he knows I’d laugh in his oxygen-deprived face. He won’t give me the satisfaction. Oh, he did try to get to the phone on his own, but he just couldn’t quite crawl across the floor. Gee, too bad. I could have reached it just by stretching out my arm.

I must admit I didn’t come here looking to kill the guy. But when I realized he was headed toward a heart attack or stroke or whatever the fuck this is, I was only too happy to help him along. I have a way of getting under people’s skin when I want to. And I really want to.

He is squirming now and his lips are starting to look blue. When I see that his eyes are starting to roll into the back of his head, I squat down beside him. I can tell there isn’t much time left and I want to make sure the last words he hears on this earth come from my mouth.

He gasps in one last breath as best he can and tries to focus on me. I smile and put a hand on his shoulder, as if to comfort him.

“Don’t you worry, dad. Mom won’t be too far behind you. I promise you, I’ll make sure of that.”

And then he is gone.