The Fugitive
Jesus Christ, so much has happened since my last entry that I don't know where to begin. OK, let's see.

First off, I was on my way up to my mom in the bedroom when I walked past the kitchen and saw my stepdad, the murderer, sitting at the dinner table. He had his eyes shut and his hands folded. I watched him and he didn't notice me. Just then it hit me: I could go in, grab one of the steak knives, and off him right there and then. I could kick some chairs over and force the door to the garden to make it look like a burglary. And I actually stepped into the kitchen to do just that.

But then I looked at him and I saw his lips moving, and I realized that he was praying. That got me thinking again (Horatio says I think too much) about what they taught me in Sunday school. The nuns said that if you die while you're praying, you automatically go to heaven. So if I would kill him right now, my dad wouldn't be too happy to have to spend all eternity with his killer brother. So I thought, Fuck it, I'll do it later, and went upstairs.

My mom has a big bedroom with a boudoir type corner on one end of the room, and this screen that she stands behind when she changes. She was sitting at this boudoir brushing her hair and looking a bit nervous.

'Hey Mom, what's up?' I said.
'Hamlet,' she said, 'You've been rude to your dad.'
'I think you mean you've been rude to my dad.'
'Why do you answer me back?' she said.
'Why do you question me?' I said.
'Hamlet', she said, in this soothing voice, 'it's me, remember!'
'Yeah, I remember. You're the one who married her dead husband's brother. And you're my mom, too.'
'Why are you acting like this?'
'You know what, let me put you in front of the mirror so you can take a good look at yourself, all right?'
I grabbed her at this point and she started hollering, 'What're you gonna do, kill me?'
And then suddenly, from behind the screen at the other end of the room comes this squeaky voice, 'Help, help, murderer!'
I totally flipped at that moment, I just didn't know what I was doing. I instinctively grabbed a pair of scissors from my mom's boudoir, threw the screen aside and stuck the blade of the scissors all the way into the guy's chest, without even seeing who it was.

Turns out it was Polonius. I could have sworn it was my stepdad, but no, I go and kill the father of my girlfriend. Yay.

'Bummer', I said.
'BUMMER?!' my mom shouted. 'YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM!'
'Yeah', I said. 'It's almost as bad as killing someone and then marrying their brother.'
'KILLING?' she bellowed.
I said nothing but looked at Polonius.
'You silly prick', I said to him.
'HAMLET, YOU KILLED THE GUY!'
'Oh, SHUT UP!' I shouted back.
'WHY?'
'Because you married fucking Claudius!' I shouted. 'I mean, look at this!' I took the picture of Claudius and my dad that we took last year in Disneyland. 'Look at my dad. Doesn't he look like a nice guy? WASN'T he a nice guy? And now look at Claudius! He's a bozo! The guy is an asshole!'
'STOP IT!'
'I'll stop it when you stop banging your brother-in-law! The guy is a murderer, a creep!'

And then, all of a sudden, in walks the ghost of my dad. Just like that, straight through the wall. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone.
'What do you want?' I said.
'Who are you TALKING to?' my mom said.
'Tell her it's nothing,' the ghost said.
'It's nothing, mom.'
'NOTHING? First you KILL a guy and then you just talk to your INVISIBLE FRIEND?! You're on DRUGS, I KNEW IT!'
'Don't you see him?' I said.
'Oh God, it's acid. You DROPPED ACID!'
'Look, it's my dad!' he said, but just then, the ghost walked out of the room again. 'He's gone now,' I said.
'Thanks for telling me!'
'Listen, I'm not crazy! You gotta believe me. Just divorce that maniac, it's not too late.'
'You're breaking my heart!' she said.
'Good, then get rid of the bad pieces! Just promise you won't sleep with that... that rat. Sorry about Polonius.'
'Hamlet, I'm your mother, I won't tell anyone what happened. But you've got to skip town!'
'That's OK', I said. 'I agreed to go with those two creeps, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to New England for spring break.' Which was true, I'd just booked the flight the night before. 'Don't worry, mom, I'll stay there until this whole thing blows over.'

I'm blogging this from a public computer at the airport. I told R and G that I'm in the bathroom. More later.