MEP,

MEP,

2218 words

MEP,

MEP,

Mep mep meep, I hate that blasted meep. It couldn't wait till even 7:00 a.m.? On a weekend?

 I feel that would be fair.

Who's there?Nobody. Who else can I make change the smoke alarm battery? The spouse is at 

the sister-in-law’s with the kid. I am solo for seven more days.

MEP,

I gotta take a piss like crazy anyway. I'll get the battery from the kitchen. Hit the bathroom on the

way back to bed.

If I don't wash my hands, I may even stay half asleep.

Up we go. Try not to step on the cat. 

Yeeaaoww! “Shit, sorry, Boots.” 

Cat hates me anyway. 

Out the door. Down the hall.

MEP,

Give the finger to the asshole safety device over the staircase. 

MEP,

Hold the finger for a moment more.

Ya, I really gotta pee.

To the kitchen and the junk drawer. 9-volt. There's gotta be a 9-volt. We got six types of watch batteries.

MEP,

Maybe I can sleep in the car in the garage. The blankets on my bed are warm, and it may snow. That garage is not insulated. 

Can I steal a battery from someplace else? 

No. The only thing that uses 9-volts anymore is the smoke detector.

MEP,

Congratulations. You keep an entire style of battery going.

 “Ha ha.”

 Right here in the back, we got two.

I hate the placement of this smoke alarm. It’s over the stairs and next to a ceiling fan. So you have to dodge the fan as you lean over the banister— the one that keeps you from falling down stairs— all to reach the alarm.

MEP,

Just a little more. Two more inches.

 That's what she said.

Creeeaak. 

I heard that, but it's probably nothing. 

CRACK!!!

Oh shit. The banister broke. This is not good.

If I can grab the fan— 

I got the fan. Thank God.

I'm hanging, and that’s better than falling.

I have knocked down the glass housing over the bulbs. 

I wonder—

MEP,

How much weight can this hold?

If I can get my foot on the—

And I'm falling again.

It really feels like this is taking forever.

 I can hear the 2:00 a.m. chime on the living room clock.

I never was a fan of the living area in this condo—

MEP,

—being upstairs.

I mean, the previous owners cheaped out and replaced the iron railing with black-painted wood.

It could never support anything more heavy than fifty pounds.

MEP,

 The stairs go down like a pit in the hallway.

Maybe I can grab the hallway flooring. If it at least slows me down, I might not get injured as badly.

 Well, I missed it.

Why am I flapping my arms around? Do I think I’m going to fly?

The next thing I can grab is the handrail going down stairs, bolted to the wall.

 I'm literally upside down.

If I grab the stair banister, can I hold tight so my feet will land first?

Hell, let's try.

 What do we have to lose?

 Nope. That just tore both my thumbs out of the socket.

MEP,

My arms have slid into the gap between the handrail and the wall.

What was I thinking?

Am I in Cirque du Soleil?

No. It's quickly getting tight around my arms.

POP. CRACK. GROAN.

What happened?

My head hurts. My arms are warm.

“Aaaagghh!”

 Okay. Arms hurt when I try to move them. 

MEP,

Fuckin’ smoke alarm.

I better open my eyes and go deal with that.

I can hear the clock in the living room chime for 4:00 a.m.

Okay. Open your eyes. You can do it.

Good.

What happened to the fan?

Why am I on the stairs?

What is holding me up?

Why does it smell like blood and piss?

MEP,

I hate that sound.

Where did I see a 9-volt?

I just saw one somewhere. Where was it?

THE KITCHEN!

There were two in the junk drawer.

I grabbed one and… 

What was I doing with it?

 Changing the battery in the smoke alarm.

And there it is, on the steps next to our broken ceiling fan.

Those are the wooden slats that I broke through trying to change the battery.

I am having a whole lot of pain in my arms and shoulders.

 It’s hard to breathe.

Okay. Eyes are open.

The fan and upstairs railing are a total loss.

Better check myself out.

I don't want to look back. 

MEP,

Me not looking will not change how hurt I am.

I can't fix anything till I know the extent of the damage.

Tear the bandage off. Like they say.

Okay. Right arm.

 “Gggaaaagghhh!”

NOT GOOD.

That's flesh from my mid-forearm up to my shoulder, peeled back like a banana.

The shoulder seems broken.

Should I even check my left arm?

Sadly, yes.

“Geerrrr.”

 Shit. It's pretty much the same.

Let's stand up.

 Funny. My legs don't hurt.

All my pain is arms up.

 Maybe that's a good thing.

Why am I not standing?

MEP,

Okay, God.

I can't feel my legs.

Shit, shit, shit.

Let's look.

Well, that makes things so much worse.

My legs are bent up behind me. They look like those tubes of refrigerated biscuits.

The left lower half of my leg curves out in front of me.

Shards of glass are sticking out from the glass light cover.

It is very clear that I have pissed myself.

MEP,

What am I going to do?

 “MY FINGERS!”

I can't move my arms, but my fingers— well, not my thumbs— but my four fingers on each hand.

They move.

Let's start small.

Just poke yourself in the back. Just to see how much strength I have.

MEP,

I know my fingers are moving.

I can feel them against each other. 

I can feel them touching something soft and warm. Like a marshmallow with something firm inside. 

“NO.”

It's my back.

I can't feel my back.

I can feel it with my fingers, but my back can't feel my fingers.

What should I do?

Someone will come.

My spouse will be here soon. 

They are due back in…seven days.

MEP,

That won't work.

Even if I don't starve or die of dehydration, blood loss will take me.

Man, it's hard to breathe.

If I don't do something quick, I'm not going to be able to yell.

I could even lose consciousness. 

Losing consciousness would not be good.

If I fall asleep, I may never wake up. 

How can I get help? 

Ha. “Alexa, call my spouse!” 

Hell ya. Thank you, Amazon. What do you have for me? 

“I'm sorry, but your Echo Dot is not configured for outgoing phone calls or texts.”

MEP,

Thump, Thump, Thump.

What is that?

Screech. Thump.

It's the next-door neighbor. 

Gideon works early. He's up, getting ready for work.

“Help! Help! Gideon, I need help!”

 I can't get enough air. 

He can't hear me. 

“Alexa,play Who Let the Dogs Out at full volume on the living room sound system.”

Please work. 

“Okay, playing Who Let the Dogs Out by the Baja Men.”

 ……WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?! WHO WHO?” 

Thank God. 

Now it's just a waiting game. 

Boom, Boom, Boom. 

I can hear muffled complaints. 

Only a matter of time now.

MEP,

I can still hear that.

Boom, Boom,thump, thump, thump.

Creeeak. 

That's his screen door.  

He's coming over to complain. 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! 

“Alexa, turn off the music.” 

It's quiet now. 

Gideon is at my front door. 

He's rattling the knob. 

“Hey, you guys. It's four in the morning. I'm just trying to get ready for work in

peace.” 

Get help.

“Gideon, listen to me. I'm badly hurt. I can't move. I need you to get an ambulance.” 

He's not saying anything. 

“Gideon, can you hear me?” 

Please hear me. 

His voice is muffled through the door. 

“Unlock the door. Let me in. I can help you.” 

Thank God. 

“I can't move. There's a rock by the gate.” 

I wish he would have looked for the key under the rock instead of throwing the rock through the window next to the door.

MEP,

His hairy arm goes through the broken window to unlock the door. 

He opens it. 

“What happened to you?” 

I don't really like this guy. He's kinda a dick, and president of the HOA, but he's going to help me. 

So he's my favorite neighbor ever now. 

“I fell trying to change the smoke alarm. You see? Can you call 911? I've been here for a while now.” 

He's coming my way. 

Why is he sitting on the steps in front of me? 

“Well, well, well. What shall we do about this?” 

Is this asshole going to actually light a cigarette in my house?

“Please, Gideon. An ambulance.” 

He's really gonna just smoke here in my house.

“You know, I remember when you guys moved in. Before that it was quiet. You folks came walking in with your new baby. The crying was awful. You guys block my parking space. You stay up late watching action movies at full volume. You never clean your trash cans. That shit draws flies and rats. It becomes a health concern. Those animals carry disease. Now the year-round Christmas lights are just trash.” 

I'm having trouble holding my head up. 

“Help, help.” 

I'm short of breath, and Gideon is lifting my face, forcing my left eye open. 

Fffiisss —

“Yaaaaaagh!” 

Why would he jab his cigarette in my eye?

MEP,

“I’ll be right back. I've got a great idea.”

”WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”

He's going into my garage. 

What does he want from there? 

Pull yourself together. 

What would a Boy Scout do? 

I gotta convince him. 

He's coming back. 

He's coming back. 

“Gideon, this is ridiculous.” 

He stopped. 

Okay. Okay.

“Nothing that's been done so far can’t be undone. I've not had a drink of water in hours, I'm losing blood. Who's to say I didn't imagine all this. Just make an anonymous call to 911 and go to work.Afterwards, we'll move. I promise. What do you say?”

He's gripping my chin 

“What do I say? I say your lovely daughter spoke to me this morning.”

 You get your hand off of your dick. 

“She told me she would be gone until next week. I'm gonna miss her.” 

This son of a bitch.

“Anyway I got you for six days”

“Gideon I ... I collected mail. We're neighbors.”

MEP,

“Please, please don't do this. Don't, don't"

Did he just put his hand in his pocket? 

I can't see that low. 

What does he have? 

“Your daughter, she was worried you would forget to feed the cat. Did you feed the cat?” 

I feel metal in my mouth, 

It's... it's my needle-nose pliers. 

“No.” 

My God, I can't even move my tongue right. 

“Well, that's unfortunate.”

“Ggaaaaaa!” 

Is he holding my tooth? 

He tore out my tooth. 

“Thop, stop, thop!” 

You’re not stopping! 

“Look, the more you struggle, the worse it will be and the longer it will take. So think of this as a choose-your-own-adventure. I'm good either way. For what I got planned after work, I need at least the top and bottom front out. All the way to the canines.” 

MEP,

He's gonna tear out each of my teeth one at a time, and I can't do anything to stop him. 

What do they tell you to do in horrible situations? 

Go someplace else in your mind. 

I'm on a train, and I can feel the pliers in my mouth. 

If I look out the window, I can see trees whizzing past and birds flying around. 

I feel pressure on my teeth. 

A window in the back of the train car shatters. 

“I got bad news for you. The Tooth Fairy is not real, and you won't be getting anything under your pillow.” 

This guy is sick. 

Out the window, I see deer. 

Another window explodes. 

The glass hits the floor next to my seat.

MEP,

My mouth hurts. 

On the train, I try to drink some water. 

It pours out of my mouth like a bucket with no bottom. 

Two more windows break. 

A pack of wolves attacks the deer as another window blows out. 

The train is full of wind swirling, and crows start coming in and are eating food off of the vacant tables. 

Three more windows just shattered.

With each tooth he pulls, this illusion shatters more and more. 

Four windows, 

More crows. 

Wind faster. 

As I look out the window next to me, the glass shards into my face.

MEP,

 “That’ll do it for now. I gotta go to work, but we will play more when I get home. You can use that pretty mouth.” 

His face it’s so close. 

Oh God. His breath and tongue tastes like cigarettes. 

His thumb is dirty, and the nail is scratching the back of my tonsils.

He is tussling my hair on his way out. 

He just locked the door. 

How many did he take? 

Just feel with your tongue. 

That's everything in front. 

Hey, Boots is here. 

Sniffing at my wounded leg. 

He's licking up the blood. 

He's eating my leg, and I can't even feel it. 

MEP,