SickER Bastards: A Novel of Extreme Horror, Sex and Gore by Shaw Matt

Author:Shaw, Matt [Shaw, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2014-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

BEFORE

A Cry for Help

I was standing in front of a chair in my living room. The noose was tied around my neck. I’m no good at tying knots so I just kept tying them until I was one hundred percent confident the rope wouldn’t come away from my neck once I stepped from the chair. I wanted it to stay tight. I wanted it to choke the air from my lungs and suffocate me. I had read - on the Internet - that there was a kind of knot you could tie, for this very purpose, that when you hang someone, it actually breaks their neck. The Internet did show images of the knot and I did try to follow them, so I too could have a quicker death than choking it out, but I couldn’t figure it out. The whole damned thing was so complicated. In the end I gave up and settled for choking. At the end of the day they both have the same desired effect, right?

On the floor, next to the chair, was a plain white envelope with the word ‘mum’ written on it. The letter was an apology to her. It wasn’t an apology for me taking my own life. It was a ‘sorry you’re stuck with him’ type of apology. It also gave details as to the type of funeral I wanted. I wanted a quiet affair with her and a few of my friends (not that I really see them since splitting with my girlfriend). That was the problem with couples having the same friends; when a break-up does happen, they always pick sides. Not sure why they chose to side with her. She was the one who dumped me. I would have thought they would have called her the bitch and been there for me in my hour of need but - no - apparently not. Oh well. Not long left on this planet to give a shit about trivial things like that. Fuck them.

And fuck him.

He - dad - wasn’t permitted at my funeral. He didn’t want me in his house, and I respected that, so - in turn - I don’t want him at my funeral. I don’t want him having the chance to say goodbye to me. I especially don’t want him having the opportunity to gloat over my cold corpse. He isn’t allowed anywhere near the service.

I climbed onto the chair. The other end of the rope was tied to one of the rafters above me - just through the latch, in the loft. The plan was simple; step off the chair and dance the merry jig on the end of the hangman’s rope. Not sure how long it will take exactly. Not sure how much pain will be involved. I’m hoping it’s minimal pain and that I lose consciousness fairly promptly. I should have Googled that too when I Googled the best type of knot to use.

Pretty high up here, standing on this chair.

Looking down to where I’m about to start swinging I can already tell it’s going to hurt.

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