2. Humor

2. Humor


We sat in my room last night, and you managed to cut out a picture of him. We pinned his picture to the voodoo doll he got me from New Orleans…a bit ironic, actually, that he would buy something for me that would only cause him pain. You smirked, saying that the picture was a perfect size for the dark toy.

I gave a broken smile and began to stick the pins through the picture and into the doll.

I found it rather humorous. I wondered if he was feeling it. I laughed at the thought of him holding his stomach in pain as I jabbed the pin into the doll.

I think I have sadistic tendencies sometimes.

But it was humorous.

And you laughed with me, but your blue eyes held something I couldn't recognize.

And I looked back at the doll and I almost cried. I was sorry for doing it, sorry for it all.

The activity was no longer humorous. But I could still hear the dark humor in some laugh far away as I slowly removed the pins from his photograph-self.