How To Die In 12 Easy Hours (The Full Story)

How To Die In 12 Easy Hours

The jumper was stuck round his head, he was sure it had shrunk, that was the only reasonable explanation for his inability to get his head through the gap, I mean, Your head doesn’t just swell up at the sight of certain jumpers does it?
His head eventually poked through the jumper and although his ears were now bright red with friction burns and he could hardly breathe. He was finally content that he had managed to win the battle of the jumper, he looked in the full length mirror and saw the ketchup stain ruining his favourite jumper, after all the effort and his bright red burning ears glowing in the reflection the whiff of victory was snatched from him with the sight of that stain staring back at him, Wasting no time trying to clean the stain off knowing that it would be to no avail and he would eventually have to change the fucking jumper anyway he pulled frantically at the jumper trying to get it over his head again, the pain, as he tried to get it past his ears along with his mounting frustration caused him to rip the fucking piece of shit, he threw it to the ground and kicked the mirror for good measure, it shattered into splinters and managed to cut his foot.
He looked at the rest of his clothes piled up on a chair in the corner of the room and managed to dress without further incident although the buttons on his fly had a tendency to just open at will, unless of course, you needed a piss, then they somehow fucking fused together and he could almost hear the fucking buttons laughing at him as he stood in the gents scrabbling at his crotch trying to get the fucking stupid buttons to open so he could relieve himself that was another time an item of his wardrobe was ripped due to no fault of his own, it was a design fault. Not his, he was certain of this fact.
He went to his kitchen where he had already decided he was in the mood for a bacon sandwich covered in brown sauce, the day had started badly, but breakfast is the most important meal of the day and with a good bacon butty inside him, then the day could only get better.
He opened the fridge door and pulled out the pack of bacon and walked to the cooker, he found a pan and lit the gas, he opened the packet of bacon and realised he would have to buy some more from the shops later in the day, he picked up the first rasher and saw that there wasn’t another rasher of bacon sitting nicely below it, he studied the rasher of bacon in his hand to see if there was two rasher stuck together, he could plainly see that there was just the one rasher in his hand but he still felt the need to try and prize a rasher of bacon from his one piece, to no avail, this annoyed him because it meant that some fucker has had one rasher of bacon, one rasher of HIS bacon, what kind of sadist would do such a thing? Especially in his flat where he lived alone!
He threw his one rasher of bacon into the pan and hot fat splashed out and mostly landed on his jeans.
He picked out a slice of bread and cut it in half then he poured his brown sauce on the bread and spread it with a knife, he turned the bacon then turned the kettle on.
By the time the kettle had boiled he had finished cooking his bacon and consumed the sandwich without sauce dripping down his shirt, which was a massive possibility given the way his day had started. He made himself a coffee and proceeded to the front room and switched on the television.

2

There was a stupid debate show playing, The ones where a woman is sat on a stage and they bring out her husband and she say’s, “Billy Bob, I got summing to tell you, I used to be your brother” Then the husband character gets out of his seat and lays fuck into his Wife/Brother/ Freakazoid then sits down calmly, before telling the Wife/Brother/Freakazoid that he knew all along who He/She was and only kept quiet because he wanted to fuck Her/His pet horse!
He sat there in disbelief that people actually watch this crap, furthermore, people actually believe it and on top of that it is pigeon holed into the Entertainment slot. If it was up to him he would sit in the car park and shoot every last mother fucker who was associated with the show. He certainly wouldn’t be seen watching it. He turned the channel to the news and searched around for a cigarette, he found a box and flipped the lid, empty, he only bought a new pack last night, the nice lady in the shop, Connie her name was, served him, a pack of Lights and an 8 pack of beer. He had a secret crush on Connie, she had a terrific body and was around his age, he had a feeling that she also had a crush on him, in fact he was certain of it, well, he was certain of it until 11:30 last night when, if only she hadn’t refused him, she could have kept her pretty smile, If only he’d kept his head then she wouldn’t have lost hers, she wouldn’t be lying on the sofa behind him right now, a headless corpse laying on her front in the same room, her head was on the footstool looking at the body, the eyes were still open and looked soothing, he could stare at those eyes for hours, He mouth was closed and expressionless, such a pretty girl but at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to even think of what he did to that poor girl last night.
He managed to roll himself a cigarette out of the empty butts in the ashtray, it tasted bad but he needed his nicotine rush, god know what he might do without that hit every morning.
He flicked the channel to a morning game show, he was an intelligent man, his IQ was above average, he answered nearly all the questions correctly and would have won £5000 for his efforts if he wasn’t sat on his arse at home. The Woman on TV won nothing. If the stupid fucking whore who was on the television at the moment had enough intelligence to wipe her arse in the morning then she should have had the intelligence to realise she was a thick piece of shit and wouldn’t win fuck all on the game show. All her friends would tell her how well she had done and how brave she was to go on live TV and all that shit your friends shove down your neck, they know, like the rest of the nation knows that you just made yourself look a cunt in front of millions. Another one who’s a waste of blood and veins!
He drained his coffee and stood up to make his return to the kitchen for a refill, He looked at Connie’s hand draped on the floor, she looked so cold, he continued towards the kitchen. On the way he stopped at the linen cupboard he opened the door and took out the assortment of blankets until he found what he was looking for, he threw the electric blanket over his shoulder and continued on his way, the kettle took an age to boil, he made his coffee and returned to the front room hoping that Connie wouldn’t be there or better still, she was sat there with her big smile watching the TV, probably answering all the questions wrong. He built up the perfect image in his head as he walked slowly into the room, Connie was there but not in the way his head had just convinced him she would be, no, she was there in the same position as she was in when he left the room, he set his coffee down on the table by the side of his chair and took the electric blanket off his shoulder, he opened it out and threw it over Connie’s lifeless cold body, plugged it in and switched the setting to 2.

3

He decided to take a walk, clear his head, go to the shop for cigarettes and bacon, he stood with his back to Connie and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and first finger, He grabbed his keys and wallet and made a move towards the door, He glanced down at the electric blanket and smiled lovingly at nothing in particular before leaving the room, he put on his coat and shoes and left the flat.
It was a warm day and the coat wasn’t really necessary but he wanted to wear it, it was his shield, it protected him from the world, it should protect the world from him but this was just a fucking coat, there are no miracle coats in the real world, only people like him.
He walked the street towards the shop breathing heavily, his eyes darting from one side to the other he could sense things, things that normal people missed, the roar of the traffic was like a pulse in his ears, he could hear people talking about him, hell, he could even hear their eyes turn to look at him, they knew, they all fucking knew, they just didn’t know what they knew yet.
He dug his hands deep inside his coat pockets and kept his head down, why didn’t he put on his hat? He can be so stupid sometimes, the hat was his animosity it was his distraction and he’d left it at home, it was too late to return to the flat, you can’t just turn around in the middle of the street, that’s what a crazy person would do and that would arouse suspicion.
He reached the shop and had perspiration on his brow, he picked up a basket and headed towards the fridges where the bacon was stored, he picked up a packet of 8 smoked rashers and placed the item in the basket, he stood in front of the fridge for a while, enjoying the cool draft that it expelled, he wiped his brow and tried to concentrate, to focus, to remember if he needed anything else. His mind was blank, he slowly walked around the shop looking at objects but seeing nothing, everything was a blur, he picked up some bin bags and an 8 pack of beer he took his items to the counter, the same counter that Connie was stood at not 12 hours before, his life was ok until then, he waited in line and looked at the floor, It seemed like a lifetime waiting and he was sure the people in front of him were deliberately taking their time, yeah, make the fucking man wait, he killed Connie, make him fucking wait in line, his mind was winding him up, he tried desperately to control his anger and his breathing, the checkout girl beckoned him over, he walked to the counter and told the girl he would like a pack of lights as well as the items in his basket.
He left the shop with his things and didn’t look back, Connie would normally be working that shift, he secretly hoped that it would be Connie serving him that time, but it wasn’t, the nightmare was true, he knew it all along, he wondered if anyone had any suspicions as to where she was, nobody knew where she was, nobody could know, only him.
He walked back to the flat as fast as he could without looking like a man in a hurry, he didn’t want to be in the flat, alone, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be out there on the streets where anything could happen to him, there are a lot of dangers on the streets nowadays and it simply wasn’t safe to be out.

4

He entered his flat and locked the door behind him, he walked straight to the kitchen and unpacked his items and put them away, he boiled the kettle again and made himself another coffee, he entered his front room and set his coffee down on his side table then walked towards Connie’s corpse he stood by her feet and lifted the blanket, he felt a gentle warmth rise up as he stared at her body, he placed the blanket to where her head should have been then he knelt down beside her, he looked at her rear then ran his fingers up and down her legs, the blanket had made her feel warm again, he felt excitement inside of him, he looked at Connie’s head staring back at him from the footstool and blew her a kiss, his hand slid up her skirt and carried on going until he could feel her panties, all the time staring at Connie’s face staring back at him, she didn’t flinch, her expression never changed, He thought back to the night before when he had his hand in the same place, she had tried to scream then, she was crying she was fighting back and that was a high he really enjoyed, he wanted to feel that high again, but he knew she wouldn’t scream for him again. He stood up and tried to push down the erection in his underpants, it didn’t seem appropriate that Connie should see his excitement. He walked back to the kitchen where he grabbed the large kitchen knife and sharpened it, he stood there staring at the blade and ran his finger along the edge, the blood trickled down the knife and dripped onto the floor, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked on his own blood, he didn’t feel the pain from the wound, he simply didn’t feel.
He walked back to the front room with the knife, tapping it against his leg with each step. He walked into his front room not quite knowing what he was going to do next but he didn’t care, he always did the right thing.
He looked at Connie’s face, he wanted her to see this, he rolled up her skirt to her waist and sliced off her panties with his knife, he was on a high again, he knew what he had to do, he could make it all right again, he stared at Connie’s naked rear end and couldn’t contain his excitement, he struggled with the buttons on his jeans eventually taking to just ripping the buttons away to save him any frustrations, he wanted this moment to be perfect, he held his erect penis in his hands and looked at Connie’s face, “I’m so sorry Connie” he said to her as he sliced his own penis down the middle splitting it in two, he knew what he had done, but felt no pain, the only pain he felt was the pain of what he had done to Connie, he knew he was a monster and he knew only he could make it right, he fell to his knees holding his penis while his blood poured out of the wound, he looked straight into Connie’s eyes as he lay there bleeding to death on the floor, he felt light headed, everything went blurred, he kept his focus on Connie’s face, the last thing he saw before he bled to death was Connie’s severed head. Smiling.