It’s getting more challenging for me to fall asleep these days. I spend most of my nights staring at the bottom of the bunk of another buckaroo. Every time I close my eyes her face vividly appears in front of mine. Thoughts of her beauty overwhelm my mind but before I am completely overtaken with the thought of her I turn over and face the door.
My eyes roam around the room trying to find anything that can occupy my mind so I don’t have to be reminded of her. My eyes spot a beetle crawling from the stove towards the door.

Is that what she was trying to do? Escape. She got away but it couldn’t have been worth leaving everything.
Before my thoughts deepen, the beetle finally squeezes under the door and makes its getaway. I roll over on the other side and stare out the one window in the entire bunkhouse. I see lightning flash across the sky and the vibrations from the thunder, shake the thin walls. The rain begins to fall as soon as the thunder goes silent.
I took her out to ride horses and the same chain of events occurred on that day. I still can remember the way her hair began curling as the rain fell on it. She didn’t mind it because she wasn’t the type of woman to let a thing like that upset her. That day was the first time I told her I loved her.
I feel something wet sliding down my face. I look at the ceiling expecting to find a leak but I am unsuccessful. I wipe my face and realize that tears are falling from my eye’s.
After all this time she still holds my heart in her hand like wet clay.
“I got something that can help,” Billy states from the table.
Billy is the type of guy you have to keep your eye on. He always takes what he wants and never has a second thought. I try to avoid him on any other day but tonight a distraction is needed.
I wipe my face before getting up from my bed. I make my way over to the table and sit down. I grab the bottle of whiskey from him, crack it open, take two swigs and hand back the bottle.
“I wake you up?”
“I was already up and I saw you tossing and turning. I reckon’ you needed a drink,” he replies.
“Just having a hard time sleeping”
“Nothin’ a little whiskey can’t cure.”
Billy takes a long drink from the bottle that matches the two swallows I took earlier and hands the bottle to me. Billy takes some tobacco from a small tin container and puts it in the rolling paper he has sitting on the table. With a couple of moves, he rolls himself a cigarette, lights it, and starts smoking.
Billy stops puffing on his cigarette, “Want me to roll you one?”
“No,” the reply came out quicker than I expected.
She made me quit smoking because she hated the way the smoke made my clothes smell. I would often times find my clothes missing. She claimed that is was impossible to get the smell out and that she had to throw them out. I honestly think that it was just a way for her to get rid of my clothes she grew tired of looking at. I could never find a scheme to return the favor and never had the desire to do so because it didn’t matter what she put on, she was always flawless to me. My favorite was the red dress she owned. It lay on her skin revealing every curve.
“You know what pal, I will take that cigarette,” I declared quicker than my last statement.
No need to still follow her rules.
I take a drink of whiskey trying to match Billy’s first sip. I’m starting to feel my stomach getting warm as the liquor settles to the bottom. ‘Bout time I finish my second drink, Billy has already rolled another cigarette and is handing it to me. We switch, I had him back the whiskey and he gives me the cigarette. He grabs the matches and tosses them to me. I light it and inhale. My first puff hits me in the chest like a bucking bronco. I begin choking as I try and catch my breath. Billy starts laughing at me.
Between laughs, Billy says, “Easy or ya spit up ya lungs.”
“Yeah, it’s just been a while,” I reply after I finally catch my breath.
As I fully recover from my coughing, something catches my eye sticking out the side of Billy’s left boot.
In almost a panic I point at his boot and ask, “What is that?”
Billy looks down at his boot. I’m not sure what he said after that, I’m really not sure if he even responded. Even if he did, his words would have never reached my ears because all my senses were now focused on the razor. The same wood handle with the letters KM etched on both sides.
I ask Billy, “Did you take this out of my bag.”
Billy replies, “I saw it and had to have it.”
I state, “Somebody important left me that.”
“Probably some rich cunt”
Billy starts laughing and I go for the razor but Billy pushes me away from him. I charge back at him and as we are wrestling his gun goes sliding across the floor. We pause for a moment realizing the stakes have been raised. Before I knew it Billy had the gun in hand and was warning me not to do anything crazy. In an instance I weighed the pros and cons and I made my decision. Next thing I know I was charging towards him. He fires his gun before I take my second step. My body hit the ground.
I remember when she told me that she fell victim to her flesh. I was away, like I had been so many times before. She was different before I left and when I returned I could feel the disconnect still remained. The offense was already committed but I did not care. I still needed her to stay but she couldn’t live with what she did.
I still remember the way her bodied layed in the bathtub motionless. She was already dead for hours by the time I found her. Her hair curled as it floated in the water. The water she was in layed on her skin like that red dress I loved so much. The razor she used to cut her wrist laid on the bathroom floor. As the memory becomes clear, I take my last breath.
I wake up in a cold sweat and look around the room. I look over at Billy and see him still sleeping in bed. His bottle of whiskey sits on the shelf above his head unopened. I grabbed my bag and desperately search through it looking for the one thing I carry around to remember her. Just as I lose hope my hand comes across the razor she left me.