Read Online My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One by Shane Grey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shane Grey
Tags: Fiction / Action & Adventure, free, Dark Comedy, humor comedy, serial adventure series, bucket lists, myster story, ebook 2015
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from this dream, I thought. I had to awake from
this dream. I just drank too much, that's all, Dick's still alive.
I was so drunk I must have been imagining things...Right?
CHAPTER 6
Funereal For A
Friend
(Lorrie's
Breakdown)
I chalked everything up to the way it felt
the first time I ever masturbated. That was life in a nut shell(no
pun intended). Everything you felt in life could be compared to the
first time you ever came(orgasm, not arrived some where). For some
people the experience was awkward. For some it was scary. For most
I'm sure it was scary, awkward, and erotic.
With any luck many of us enjoyed that first
fresh squeeze of our groins and enjoyed every fluid that seeped due
to orgasm.
If at this point you wonder where I am going
with this, I am sorry to report that after all these years it is
still hard for me to actually acknowledge Dick's untimely death. He
makes it the hardest to forget. That may be confusing now, but by
the end of this chapter it will make complete sense.
I stood over Dick's body. He laid in a black
casket with red crushed velvet interior. He wore a pale black
suit(if black could be pale), maybe it was just his skin. Dick
looked to be literally drained of life, which he was, I felt insane
looking down at him.
The whole thing seemed staged.
In the past days my anxiety attacks were
back and in full motion. I hadn't had a real anxiety attack in
years. But they just popped up again. The tightness in the chest,
vomiting, cold sweats no matter the weather. The lack of sleep
didn't help.
I hadn't slept since Dick's
death. It was more of a killing. The booze helped sometimes. Lorrie did not help.
All she did was cry until she either puked or dry heaved. Then she
would go all catatonic on me, just stare blankly at the wall, it
was as if she could see beyond the wall.
On the night before the funereal I had
convinced her to have a few drinks with me. We ended up drunk on
the floor, we held each other and wept in each others arms. Then
she tried to kiss me.
I wasn't ready for that. And my rejection
got me three days of silent treatment. That's right, she even
stopped crying. But I was not about to live some Ben Affleck-Josh
Hartnett film where my dead best friend's girl falls for me.
I told myself she was just grieving.
The story goes like this. Dick was
delivering pizza's for Johnny Basil. It was his last delivery of
the night and his life. 3 teenagers were smoking weed laced with
angel dust. They didn't know it at the time. One of the boys was a
paranoid schizophrenic off his medication. The angel dust did not
help this.
The boy went into a full blown
psychosis.
Dick rang the door bell, the 3 boys
panicked, the two were hallucinating and hid in the closet. The one
experiencing psychosis grabbed a butcher knife. He answered the
door and proceeded to stab Dick multiple times in the stomach and
throat. He left my best friend bleeding to death on the porch.
Dick died from his wounds on the way to the
hospital.
At the funereal the day
was so still. I remember it being the quietest day I ever have from
memory. No breeze. No wind. Just plain stillness. It was a cold
Spring day. Clouds and all. Dick's funereal was 4 days prior to my
28 th birthday.
Sloppy Deb, Lorrie's mom, handed out
complimentary snacks once the casket was lowered. Besides me and
Lorrie and Sloppy Deb, others in attendance included Nico and
Lorenzo Saucony, Johnny Basil, the twins Jack and Jeff Davis. I
half expected to see Cynthia Garcia, but was glad not to. She was
never close with Dick anyway.
“Mr. Tucker.” Jack
approached and said.
“Mr. Sawyer.” Jeff said,
he stood next to his brother.
“Thank you for coming.” I
said.
“We're sorry for the loss
of Mr. Pickett.” Jack said.
“Sorry for Dick's demise.”
Jeff said.
The twins were dressed in black t-shirts,
blazers, trousers, shoes shiny, all black. Their hair pulled into
tight ponytails. Per usual they were pale as ghosts. They didn't
see much natural
this dream. I just drank too much, that's all, Dick's still alive.
I was so drunk I must have been imagining things...Right?
CHAPTER 6
Funereal For A
Friend
(Lorrie's
Breakdown)
I chalked everything up to the way it felt
the first time I ever masturbated. That was life in a nut shell(no
pun intended). Everything you felt in life could be compared to the
first time you ever came(orgasm, not arrived some where). For some
people the experience was awkward. For some it was scary. For most
I'm sure it was scary, awkward, and erotic.
With any luck many of us enjoyed that first
fresh squeeze of our groins and enjoyed every fluid that seeped due
to orgasm.
If at this point you wonder where I am going
with this, I am sorry to report that after all these years it is
still hard for me to actually acknowledge Dick's untimely death. He
makes it the hardest to forget. That may be confusing now, but by
the end of this chapter it will make complete sense.
I stood over Dick's body. He laid in a black
casket with red crushed velvet interior. He wore a pale black
suit(if black could be pale), maybe it was just his skin. Dick
looked to be literally drained of life, which he was, I felt insane
looking down at him.
The whole thing seemed staged.
In the past days my anxiety attacks were
back and in full motion. I hadn't had a real anxiety attack in
years. But they just popped up again. The tightness in the chest,
vomiting, cold sweats no matter the weather. The lack of sleep
didn't help.
I hadn't slept since Dick's
death. It was more of a killing. The booze helped sometimes. Lorrie did not help.
All she did was cry until she either puked or dry heaved. Then she
would go all catatonic on me, just stare blankly at the wall, it
was as if she could see beyond the wall.
On the night before the funereal I had
convinced her to have a few drinks with me. We ended up drunk on
the floor, we held each other and wept in each others arms. Then
she tried to kiss me.
I wasn't ready for that. And my rejection
got me three days of silent treatment. That's right, she even
stopped crying. But I was not about to live some Ben Affleck-Josh
Hartnett film where my dead best friend's girl falls for me.
I told myself she was just grieving.
The story goes like this. Dick was
delivering pizza's for Johnny Basil. It was his last delivery of
the night and his life. 3 teenagers were smoking weed laced with
angel dust. They didn't know it at the time. One of the boys was a
paranoid schizophrenic off his medication. The angel dust did not
help this.
The boy went into a full blown
psychosis.
Dick rang the door bell, the 3 boys
panicked, the two were hallucinating and hid in the closet. The one
experiencing psychosis grabbed a butcher knife. He answered the
door and proceeded to stab Dick multiple times in the stomach and
throat. He left my best friend bleeding to death on the porch.
Dick died from his wounds on the way to the
hospital.
At the funereal the day
was so still. I remember it being the quietest day I ever have from
memory. No breeze. No wind. Just plain stillness. It was a cold
Spring day. Clouds and all. Dick's funereal was 4 days prior to my
28 th birthday.
Sloppy Deb, Lorrie's mom, handed out
complimentary snacks once the casket was lowered. Besides me and
Lorrie and Sloppy Deb, others in attendance included Nico and
Lorenzo Saucony, Johnny Basil, the twins Jack and Jeff Davis. I
half expected to see Cynthia Garcia, but was glad not to. She was
never close with Dick anyway.
“Mr. Tucker.” Jack
approached and said.
“Mr. Sawyer.” Jeff said,
he stood next to his brother.
“Thank you for coming.” I
said.
“We're sorry for the loss
of Mr. Pickett.” Jack said.
“Sorry for Dick's demise.”
Jeff said.
The twins were dressed in black t-shirts,
blazers, trousers, shoes shiny, all black. Their hair pulled into
tight ponytails. Per usual they were pale as ghosts. They didn't
see much natural
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