The Apartment

By Rose E. Wormwood

Okay, well, I guess it’s fine. It’s fine. No problem. It’s just that- well, it kind of sucks. Really. It really sucks. I mean, a lot of bad things happened in a row and- and I don’t want to complain, but. Well, it all started when I got the bad news. I didn’t know how bad it would be until later, or, well, actually, right now. Right now, I know how bad it is. But when I first got the news I didn’t. And you know, like what really sucks? He left me right after I told him- yeah, him. Although, I guess, I can’t blame him? Cause, well. I lied. He didn’t leave right after he found out. He stayed for a while. Until things started to get worse. And they got bad quick, like really quick. Really bad really quick. And I don’t blame him for leaving. It’s really gross. Really. I get it. This disease is gross. So, I get that he left. I’m also like… insufferable to be around. Anyway, it was going to happen sooner or later so I’m glad that it happened sooner than later anyway, yeah. It just- I wish that someone was there to do this with me, y’know? It was just going to really be- like so expensive and stressful so I guess that someone would just be here to hold my hand. Whatever. 

Okay, so… yeah. It’s gotten a lot worse since the diagnosis. You remember what I used to look like? I know, I’ve, liked, changed. A lot. I’m losing my mind a little bit even though it’s the only thing left. But yeah, oh, you want to know how? I don’t know how. Well, okay, I do know how. Sorry, I lied. I know, I’m a horrible person. It started, when, well, it’s a little embarrassing. One of my toes…the smallest one… it was bad, right, because of the disease… so, like I had stubbed my foot that day right, so it kind of made it worse, and, I felt my toe and it was kind of, squishy, so, I squeezed it, and it oozed a little, and I kept squeezing, and it- it – it popped off. It just popped off. Like opening a bottle of champagne. That’s when it started. It was nice to… have that part free from me. For once I felt good about myself. Don’t I deserve to be happy? I mean, my life is about to end, so, why not have some fun? And it was fun, oh yeah, I had a good laugh about it. Wasn’t scared at all. Like a normal person should be. So, when it like, eventually spread to my other toes, I had my own field day about it! A month after he left me- I mean- a month after I was diagnosed, I had popped every one of my little piggies off. Yeah-oh yeah- both of my feet, even though the other foot wasn’t diseased. It’s fine, I liked doing it, even if it was harder to walk after that. Although, that wasn’t too bad compared to when I took both my feet off. Yep. I choked my ankles until my feet gave way. I don’t miss them, I mean, where am I going to go? Out with him? To see other people? 

Honestly, where would I go? I mean– nobody is coming to visit me anymore. Uber Eats is a thing, so, whatever. It’s fine. Not a big problem- I mean- I guess.  I didn’t mind hobbling everywhere I went. And, at this point, my doctor told me that I should use a wheelchair. Crazy, right? What? Oh, no… he didn’t really care that I lost both my feet. I don’t think he cares about me. No man really does! So yeah after that I removed my lower legs. I think- calves, right? That’s what they’re called? Yeah, those were really hard to pull off, but I did it eventually! That felt really good. The buildup is strenuous, you have to knead your lower leg muscles upward until all the skin is pushed above your knee, and then you have to wiggle your calf a little until it breaks off, but when it does, that sudden release of pressure… 

Anyway, yeah, after that it was all uphill from there.

So, it wasn’t even two hours after I pulled off my claves that I yanked off my thighs. It was kind of funny, seeing them there, with all the skin left from my calves kind of just, dangling there. Like wet, slimy, raw chicken. Anyway, yeah, then it was really easy to take my thighs out. They kind of just popped out of the hip sockets. That was nice. Such a satisfying sound, I suggest that you try it! Then, at that point, I also started to pull my fingers out of my palm. It was fun, kind of like… breaking a carrot in half. No… celery. Celery is what it felt like. Yeah, they broke in half like celery and then twisted out of their little holes. But I didn’t pull all of them out though, oh no. See, I still had no pull my arms and torso off. And… so, I came up with this plan to tie my wrists to my ceiling fan and then just hang there until my arms fall off! I thought it was a good plan. I had become quite good at, y’know, climbing, at this point, so it was easy to hoist myself up there. I tied some rope around my hands and around the fan, and just, hung out for a while. Yeah, I was only up there for about… seven days. Oh no, I wasn’t hungry or anything, I don’t get hungry anymore. Ever. 

So, yeah, then finally I kind of slid out of my arms and onto the floor. But, I had one last problem. I still loved -I mean, I still had my torso. I thought, if I could get rid of my torso, then all the problems that past me had would go away. Cause, God, past me had a lot of problems. She had to walk everywhere to do things like use the bathroom or shower. But every time I removed a limb, I felt another one of my problems break away from me, and it freed me, yeah, it freed me. Oh yeah. But I still had my torso! Real shame, everyone agreed. Everyone. Even my doctor, who said that I was basically cured of my disease. Of course, how can it spread through my body when my body is sprawled all about my apartment! Okay, so you want to know what happened to my torso? It was really funny, yeah. Okay, so I’m sitting there, crying over him, my nose is running like crazy, and all of a sudden, I sneeze, and boom. My torso comes right off! Thank God, my tears finally helped me for once! So now I’m just a head. Ahead of the game more like, amiright? 

Oh, I forgot to mention that I pulled my ears off but I can still hear things because God won’t let me die. 

And I stayed like that for days. Just chilling. My limbs didn’t decay or anything, trust me, I wish they did, but no. They just wiggled a bit here and there, scratched an itch if they could reach it. And my hand finally learned how to turn the television on, so that was something else to do. What was I doing before that? Wondering why I wasn’t dead. Like I was before my disease. Anyway, I was sitting there for a while my boyfriend walked in on me, just a torso now, sitting on the ground. Apparently, he had to come back and retrieve some of his items, and he said, is pain the easiest way to express oneself? 

And I said, no, love is the easiest way. 

And he said, but isn’t pain, the essential and universal aspect of human experience, be more easily understood than love is? As love is just chemicals firing of in the brain, which is not easily interpreted, but pain is a direct signal from nerve endings that shoot directly to the brain and therefor-

I said, sure, whatever, fine, that’s fine. 

He said, you’re a waste of space. 

I said, that’s fine. 

He said, are you sure it’s fine?

I said, I don’t know. Can you scratch my ass for me? It’s been annoying me for days.  

He said, can I make love to you the way that you are now? It kind of turns me on. 

I said, that’s physically impossible and a little weird. 

He said, but I love you. 

I said, sure, whatever. 

He said, all I feel is pain now.

I said, me too.  But it’s okay because we’re together now. And he picked me up and we walked off into the sunset together. And all my limbs started dancing with excitement. 

About the Author

Rose E. Wormwood describes herself as the end of times. Her coming signals the final days of mankind, and all will weep at the sight of her unrestrained form.

On her less dramatic days, Rose considers herself a writer and a wandering spirit.

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