Tylenol excerpt

She had to go home, to her dorm near the south side of campus. He remembered her name. He made sure she repeated it. With several beers in his system conspiring to prevent his memory from taking hold, it was vitally important to him that he not forget this name. He should have killed himself that night. He would have ended on a high note. Immediately after she left, he should have run across the quad, to the lakefill, and dived into Lake Michigan. I’m sure the cold waters would have finished him off in short order. He could help the process along by running up to his dorm room first, slamming a bottle of Tylenol, chasing it with some booze, punching himself in the kidneys a few times as he ran back downstairs, finding a few fist-sized rocks to grab and smash against his skull as he ran, grabbing more on the way and loading up his pockets with them, then leaping headfirst to encourage more head trauma from submerged geological structures, gulping down as much water as possible, taking deep liquid breaths through both nose and mouth, rapping his fists against his eyes, groin, and face, and then, maybe, he would bite the big one and end his life on a high note. Hopefully all that effort of killing himself wouldn’t take away from the good memories he was trying to go out on, though.