The Fast Track To Hell
By Cailin Humphrys
What the fuck.I wish my life was over. I fucked up big time. Oh fuck it, big time doesn't even begin to describe the incredible amount of guilt and hatred that I feel. April's dead.and it's all my fault. I want so badly to blame it on that prostitute, that dancer named Mimi. She didn't know about April though.she cried when I told her. It was just some innocent fun, I swear! I never meant to hurt anyone-not April, Mimi, or myself. The day that I began to ride the fast track to hell remains foggy in my memory. April was out.we had had another fight. All we did lately was just fight.fight and fuck. It was almost like a goddamned bed and breakfast the way it was going-get up and have a fight, return later that night after storming off and have a good fuck. Repeat process until brain turns to mush and drips out through the ears. Usually it was me doing the storming off, but this time April was the one who had enough first. She left the loft saying that if I followed her, it was over. So I didn't follow her. Instead I went down to the Cat Scratch Club. It was an old hangout that Benny and I went to when Mark was with Maureen. Collins hardly ever came seeing as watching women dance sexily didn't really turn him on.ah, the trials of being gay. Anyway, I went down there myself this time. I got there, bought myself a drink, and then settled back to watch the ladies. I was there for about five minutes when the best dancer in the club, Mimi, came on. I remember that that night, she danced more seductively and more erotically than she ever had. As the hours wore on, I got drunker, and the women were sexier each time a new dancer came on. Suddenly, Mimi was in front of me, holding up a needle and some powder. She asked me if I wanted a fix, and that I looked like I could use one. Before I had time to think, I was nodding dumbly, and Mimi was injecting heroin into my veins. She was already on a high, I could tell. Soon, the room was spinning, and everything seemed like it had popped out of a cartoon. Mimi dragged me out onto the dance floor where we grinded for the better part of an hour. Before I knew it, we were against a wall in a back alley with my hand up her tight leather skirt. Her moans caressed my ear, and I could feel her touching me with those delicate hands of her. Our bodies melded together, and the sound of pulsating desire filled the air. Soon, we were on the ground, fucking to beat all hell.
And that's how it began. We met twice a week. We would share a needle to get high as kites, and then fuck like bunnies for a few hours. April never knew as far as I knew. I knew it was wrong, I knew I should stop.but then I would shake and sweat and my groin would swell with the anticipation of my Hispanic "mamasita", and I was lost. Mimi and I would talk sometimes too, after we had used up all our sexual energy. She talked about running away from home and about wanting to go back to school, I talked about wanting to score a record deal. We became pretty friendly actually, and it was refreshing. There were no strings attached.except for the exceptionally strong string named April. We were still together, but things were looking up. By getting my biweekly fix, I was able to relax for a bit. I felt a little guilty.not only did April have no idea what was going on, but Mimi didn't know I had a girlfriend. She assumed I was a guy looking for a good time. But then.I started to get sick easier. One little cold would keep me in bed for two weeks. After things happened twice, I went to the doctor.and found out.I had AIDS. My life seemed to fall down the shithole about that. I confronted Mimi about it, and she told me that yes, she had AIDS. She had known for a long time.but had never told me. I wanted to kill her, strangle her with my bare hands.but I had never asked, so why would she tell? Who knows.we stopped seeing each other.
Later that week, I came home to the loft to see broken glass everywhere and picture of April and I ripped up. I was screwed completely.so I went into our bedroom to face the music. However, she wasn't in there. I called her name a few times, but then stopped as my eyes fell on a piece of white paper on the floor.my diagnosis and my prescription for AZT, along with my bag of heroin and needles. It wasn't where I had left it, and I had a pretty good guess on who had found it. I called April's name again.but then heard running water from the bathroom. I crept cautiously into the bathroom to find April's dead body floating in a tub of red water. Her wrists lay on the sides of the tub-slit and jagged. Next to the tub on the floor was a paper similar to mine.except it was a diagnosis for her and a prescription for AZT.as I looked at the mirror, I saw that she had written in red lipstick, "We've got AIDS." She knew.
I don't know how she found out. I don't think she knew about Mimi.but it was still just as heart wrenching. I wish to God that I hadn't fucked up like this.April was the best thing to have ever happened to me. But I lost her.I remember telling Mimi a week after April's funeral about her. She cried harder than I'd cried. She called me a coward and an asshole. She slapped me across the face before she ran away, muttering Spanish curses under her breath. And as I stood in that alleyway in the pouring rain, I knew it was over. I couldn't take this shit anymore.but what the fuck, I was gonna die soon anyway. Well then, three tears in a bucket, motherfuck it, and maybe I deserved this. I just hope I die soon.fuck-ups like me don't deserve the goodness of grace. Why couldn't April just have come at me with a knife? Then she could move on with her life.but then that words.AIDS.comes into my head and I remember. All I can do is remember.
By Cailin Humphrys
What the fuck.I wish my life was over. I fucked up big time. Oh fuck it, big time doesn't even begin to describe the incredible amount of guilt and hatred that I feel. April's dead.and it's all my fault. I want so badly to blame it on that prostitute, that dancer named Mimi. She didn't know about April though.she cried when I told her. It was just some innocent fun, I swear! I never meant to hurt anyone-not April, Mimi, or myself. The day that I began to ride the fast track to hell remains foggy in my memory. April was out.we had had another fight. All we did lately was just fight.fight and fuck. It was almost like a goddamned bed and breakfast the way it was going-get up and have a fight, return later that night after storming off and have a good fuck. Repeat process until brain turns to mush and drips out through the ears. Usually it was me doing the storming off, but this time April was the one who had enough first. She left the loft saying that if I followed her, it was over. So I didn't follow her. Instead I went down to the Cat Scratch Club. It was an old hangout that Benny and I went to when Mark was with Maureen. Collins hardly ever came seeing as watching women dance sexily didn't really turn him on.ah, the trials of being gay. Anyway, I went down there myself this time. I got there, bought myself a drink, and then settled back to watch the ladies. I was there for about five minutes when the best dancer in the club, Mimi, came on. I remember that that night, she danced more seductively and more erotically than she ever had. As the hours wore on, I got drunker, and the women were sexier each time a new dancer came on. Suddenly, Mimi was in front of me, holding up a needle and some powder. She asked me if I wanted a fix, and that I looked like I could use one. Before I had time to think, I was nodding dumbly, and Mimi was injecting heroin into my veins. She was already on a high, I could tell. Soon, the room was spinning, and everything seemed like it had popped out of a cartoon. Mimi dragged me out onto the dance floor where we grinded for the better part of an hour. Before I knew it, we were against a wall in a back alley with my hand up her tight leather skirt. Her moans caressed my ear, and I could feel her touching me with those delicate hands of her. Our bodies melded together, and the sound of pulsating desire filled the air. Soon, we were on the ground, fucking to beat all hell.
And that's how it began. We met twice a week. We would share a needle to get high as kites, and then fuck like bunnies for a few hours. April never knew as far as I knew. I knew it was wrong, I knew I should stop.but then I would shake and sweat and my groin would swell with the anticipation of my Hispanic "mamasita", and I was lost. Mimi and I would talk sometimes too, after we had used up all our sexual energy. She talked about running away from home and about wanting to go back to school, I talked about wanting to score a record deal. We became pretty friendly actually, and it was refreshing. There were no strings attached.except for the exceptionally strong string named April. We were still together, but things were looking up. By getting my biweekly fix, I was able to relax for a bit. I felt a little guilty.not only did April have no idea what was going on, but Mimi didn't know I had a girlfriend. She assumed I was a guy looking for a good time. But then.I started to get sick easier. One little cold would keep me in bed for two weeks. After things happened twice, I went to the doctor.and found out.I had AIDS. My life seemed to fall down the shithole about that. I confronted Mimi about it, and she told me that yes, she had AIDS. She had known for a long time.but had never told me. I wanted to kill her, strangle her with my bare hands.but I had never asked, so why would she tell? Who knows.we stopped seeing each other.
Later that week, I came home to the loft to see broken glass everywhere and picture of April and I ripped up. I was screwed completely.so I went into our bedroom to face the music. However, she wasn't in there. I called her name a few times, but then stopped as my eyes fell on a piece of white paper on the floor.my diagnosis and my prescription for AZT, along with my bag of heroin and needles. It wasn't where I had left it, and I had a pretty good guess on who had found it. I called April's name again.but then heard running water from the bathroom. I crept cautiously into the bathroom to find April's dead body floating in a tub of red water. Her wrists lay on the sides of the tub-slit and jagged. Next to the tub on the floor was a paper similar to mine.except it was a diagnosis for her and a prescription for AZT.as I looked at the mirror, I saw that she had written in red lipstick, "We've got AIDS." She knew.
I don't know how she found out. I don't think she knew about Mimi.but it was still just as heart wrenching. I wish to God that I hadn't fucked up like this.April was the best thing to have ever happened to me. But I lost her.I remember telling Mimi a week after April's funeral about her. She cried harder than I'd cried. She called me a coward and an asshole. She slapped me across the face before she ran away, muttering Spanish curses under her breath. And as I stood in that alleyway in the pouring rain, I knew it was over. I couldn't take this shit anymore.but what the fuck, I was gonna die soon anyway. Well then, three tears in a bucket, motherfuck it, and maybe I deserved this. I just hope I die soon.fuck-ups like me don't deserve the goodness of grace. Why couldn't April just have come at me with a knife? Then she could move on with her life.but then that words.AIDS.comes into my head and I remember. All I can do is remember.