Rejection

In life, son, you got your hammers, and you got your nails.

And some fuckers, if they can just find some wood, they can use both to bang together a ship, and sail far, far away from this shitburgh.

Rejection by Patrick Gregorson

I felt sorry for myself. I contemplated suicide. Another rejection letter, which said my story had had too much misogyny. Misogyny? I hated men more than women! Normally, I would have taken the misogyny bit as a complement. But I wondered. Maybe I am just a piece of shit. I’d never make it as a writer. That was clear. I’d never become rich and famous, would never rise above the shithole jobs, working for assholes. Now I was a douche bag, who treated women like shit.

I decided to take the biggest sharpest knife in the kitchen and cut my wrist. I found a blade that would do. Good and sharp. Put the blade to my forearm and pressed lightly. God if you’re out there, help me. I pressed the knife a little harder. I saw blood and dropped the knife. I sucked the blood. It was thick and dark red. Not much blood, but enough.

My stepmom came out of her bedroom, and saw me with the blood and the knife by my feet.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she said.

“Nothing, I had an accident.”

“Accident, my ass, you tried to kill yourself.”

“No, really, I didn’t.”

She picked up a wooden spoon from the counter top, and started hitting me with it.

“That will teach you to kill yourself.”

I ran away, but she kept chasing me, hitting me. I ran into my room and locked the door. She was banging on the door.

“Don’t go masturbating now, either!”

I really hated myself then. I was too much of a coward to kill myself. My fucking stepmom is a psycho bitch. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from under my bed and drank. I got good and drunk, continued to feel sorry for myself, and cried myself to sleep.

Patrick Gregorson can turn any joke into a sad story. He enjoys masturbating compulsively, weeping uncontrollably, and long walks on the beach.