Welcome to Antarctica
For the past couple weeks I've had this nagging suspicion that my girlfriend is cheating on me; my absolute worst nightmare. Every time the dirty bitch of a thought creeps into my mind I push it away as the product of an overactive imagination; a paranoia common to anyone who has ever been in a relationship. A lot of times though, and in my parents case even, a paranoia that turns out to be a frigid reality. The definition of hell on earth, if hell was cold as shit, like Antarctica. I’m scared shitless of how I’d react in that situation.
“Alex, Chloe’s on the phone,” Mom yelled from the kitchen.
My train of thought interrupted and momentarily forgotten, I ran for the phone as a child runs for presents on Christmas morning.
“Hey, what’s up?” I inquired eagerly, and somewhat out of breath.
“Hey, Alex. Can I come over?” Chloe asked in her typically angelic tone, although unusually monotone.
“Yea, right now?”
“Uh-huh, I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Okay, bye. Love ya.”
Back on the train, I pondered the pros and cons of asking her straight up. If she hadn’t been cheating she’d be extremely pissed and offended at my lack of trust in her, and the foundation of our relationship would surely be brought into question. If she had, well, she’d probably deny it and the same shit would happen as if she didn’t; a definite no win situation.
The doorbell rang followed by the sound of moms footsteps as she opened the door for Chloe, and asked annoyingly as always, “Hi honey, how are you?”
“I’m fine Mom. How are you?” Chloe replied as always, but not annoyingly.
“I’m good. Alex is in his room.”
“Alright, thanks Mom,” said Chloe, already to my bedroom door.
Just as she pushed the door open and turned to close it I realized she didn’t say she loved me when we got off the phone. Definitely not good. Then the look on her face when she turned back around and walked towards the computer chair, and the fact that she went for the chair instead of my bed like she always did; this is definitely not good.
Heart in my throat and trying to pretend nothing was wrong I asked, “How were your classes?”
“Good,” she said in a tone like a dagger through my heart. She never talked like this.
“That’s good,” I said. “Something wrong?”
“Why would you say that, Alex?” She asked, as if I was somehow to blame for what I knew was coming.
“I dunno, you just seem, umm, you’re acting funny.”
“Yea, funny. Like something’s on your mind.”
We sat in silence a minute, maybe less, though it seemed like a year. Her face frozen like an opera mask except her eyes staring straight up with her arms crossed which I’ve learned over the years is her way of displaying frustration. Out of nowhere, she began balling her eyes out. I got up to comfort her but she held her arm out as if to signal me to sit back down, so I did.
“Chloe, what’s wrong?” I questioned desperately. “Did I do something wrong? What the hell happened?”
“Alex,” she sobbed. “Please don’t hate me.”
I fucking knew it.
“What? Why would I hate you? I love you Chloe.”
“You won’t,” she cried. “I fucked Simon!”
Simon! My best fucking friend! No matter who it was would be just as bad, but fucking Simon?
“You what?” I yelled. “You fucked my best friend?”
“Alex, I’m so sorry. I love you and I wanna be with you. Please forgive me,” she mumbled and sobbed.
“Just once?” I asked as if it mattered, and for some reason it did.
“No,” she mumbled. “For the last year.”
My thoughts shifted towards Antarctica; freezing cold hell on earth. It was freezing outside, so I opened the window. If I was gonna be in hell, I wanted to really feel it. Then my thoughts shifted again, like an epiphany, to my brand new fixed-blade Gerber knife. And Chloe. And Simon. I felt calm.
“Okay, Chloe. Give me a second to calm down. I’m gonna go to the bathroom and just calm down.”
As she sat there crying I grabbed the phone and opened my door. In the bathroom I called Simon, who lived only a block away, and asked him to come play some video games with me, and as always, he said yes.
Back in my room, as Chloe held her disgusting face in her hands, sobbing like a little bitch, I nonchalantly opened the top drawer of my bureau and pulled my brand new knife out of the leather sheath it came in. I sat back down on my bed and slid the knife under my pillow without her noticing, and I waited. Mom never let me know when Simon was here, so any minute now he’d open my bedroom door and walk right in.
He walked right in, “Hey Alex,” he greeted me without noticing Chloe, as if he hadn’t been fucking my girlfriend for the last year, closing the door behind him. “Your mom told me to tell you she’ll be right back, she’s going to get some groceries.”
Finally noticing Chloe with a look of shock he said, “Oh, hi Chloe.”
She didn’t respond.
He looked at me, confused, and asked, “What’s going on? Why is she crying?”
I grinned, “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
“I said why don’t you tell me what’s going on, Simon.”
“What are you talking about?” He asked, frustrated.
“If there’s anyone here who should be frustrated, it's me.”
All the while Chloe sat there, crying like a little bitch, and for no reason; if anyone should be crying, it’s me. And I did. I started crying, and I grabbed the knife from under my pillow.
“Alex, what the fuck are you doing?” Simon asked, serious as a funeral.
“No Simon, the question is who the fuck are you fucking?” I yelled as I lunged at him with the knife, stabbing him in the leg; blood squirting all over the place.
“Aleeeexxxx! Ahhhh!” He screamed. “I’m sorry! I wanted to tell you I just didn’t want to..”
Chloe screamed and ran for the door, and in one swift motion I pulled the knife from Simons leg and shoved it into hers. She shrieked and fell to the floor hilariously, like a rag doll, almost directly on top of Simon; their blood mixing like the streams of urine when two drunks piss standing right next to each other.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want or don’t want anymore, friend!” I said, reminding myself of a movie character of the devil in human form.
I smiled as they screamed. “Now, we’re gonna have a threesome!” I whispered deviously as I plunged the knife into my own leg, making sure to hit a main artery, and I did judging by the amount of blood rushing out like water through a freshly broken dam. I fell right on top of them.
I grabbed the knife again and stabbed them both a few more times to make sure we’d all slowly bleed out together, and they screamed in terror. Slowly their screaming lowered, as if someone was turning down the volume of a horror movie until it finally went completely mute. They were still alive, though.
I looked at the open window to the freezing cold night beyond, and realized I could see my own breath.
“Welcome to Antarctica,” I said, smiling. “Freezing cold hell on earth.”
I heard the roar of my mothers engine as she pulled into the driveway, and then it died.
And so did we.