Making Friends

Hey, not a lot of time today, so here's a quick little diddy I wrote a while ago...

Andy fell on the pickaxe. I gave him a quick shove when he talked some crap to me and he tripped and fell onto the axe he was holding. There was a wet crunching sound as I saw the point exit his back. Mike and I stood there in shock, silent for what seemed like hours, and I had time to notice what a beautiful day it was before Mike threw up.

Shaking, I gently rolled Andy over to try and pull the pickaxe out. His breath came in short gasps and his eyes were huge, looking at me in disbelief. People have a hard time admitting that they’re going to die. Mike was yelling at me not to move him, but he was interrupted by another round of dry heaves.

I planted my foot on the intact side of Andy’s chest and grabbed the axe firmly by the head. With one quick motion I pulled it out of his chest. I was surprised at the initial sucking sound his chest made, and then I realized he was trying to breathe through the hole in his chest. We locked eyes for a moment. I wonder what he was thinking.

Maybe about all the things he wanted to do. All the plans he had. Everything that he’d put off that he’ll never get to do.

I thought about it too.

After I got Mike taken care of and buried them both in the woods with the rest of them, I walked home with the pickaxe slung over my shoulder. Time to make some more friends.
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Yeah, this wasn't supposed to be this dark. It was going to be one of those "there was an accident, now what" kind of things, and then it got out of hand. I'm not sick. the story is.