My Best Friend

by Nicholas S.

Posted to Poetry on 2004-05-26 16:15:00

Parent message is 653172
I’ll see you hit the fucking concrete when you are done. I don’t remember why there was a fight at all; just that it was the worst fight I have seen in a long time. The last time I saw a fight that bad was when my best friend’s dad got drunk and went driving down the street, one arm out the window with a baseball bat, smashing mailboxes. He stopped in front of a house, I’ll never know why. A man came out from the darkness of the trees and started screaming at him, pointing toward his crippled mailbox. My best friend’s dad started hitting the man with the bat over and over until the man reached for a hunting knife in his pocket. Then it was all over; the grass was sticky with blood. My best friend never shed a tear. I guess that is why he decided to fight me. He just snapped one day, started cursing at me like I had done something; he was a totally different person. It was in the parking lot of where I work. He attacked me as I was unlocking my car door. So I hit him. I hit him again and again until he went down. And I went to jail. I never thought that I would kill my best friend with my own fists. These fists… I’d break every fucking knuckle on them if I could go back to that day. I’d relive the moment and try to get in a few extra hits, that son of a bitch.