Scratching

I stood there, staring at the tiny pink piece of paper in my hand. I had to remember to breathe. I looked up at the computer screen again, and then back down at the piece of paper I held in between my thumb and forefinger, hanging limp and sad like a parking ticket, like a summons to court, but it was the opposite of those things, this was a GOOD THING apparently, this thing was telling me I had just won $11,000,000.

I checked one more time: 3, 11, 18, 22, 26, 47. Three. Eleven. Eighteen. Twenty-two. Twenty-six. Forty-seven. Fuck.

I looked over my shoulder both ways to make sure I was not being watched, even though I knew I was alone. I flattened the ticket out, trying to smooth the creases out of it, it had been folded up in my wallet for a few weeks now, and I tried to make it look as clean and new as possible. I found a Zip-Loc bag and sealed it up inside. I hid it under my pillow. I thought a moment and then I rose, put on my slippers and hid it under a cushion in the couch downstairs. I started to walk away and then turned around and retrieved the thing again, brought it back upstairs with me, I put it inside the middle of a car repair manual I had been studying, and then I slid this book under my bed.

I tried to sleep. I had to make it until the morning, I could not be robbed of my book, my ticket! I thought about what would change. I would have to tell her. What would I tell her? Would I want to share? Would I? Where was she NOW if I was supposed to be the Sharing Type? Where was she? Where? Was she here for me when I needed her, last month? What had she been doing? Did she tell me the truth? Ehn, Noe. I knew this could fix everything between us, money was the issue, this was a silver bullet, but I got tense. I tensed up. I had a problem about feeling like I was being used, I had imagined I had been used by women since I had been five years old in Kindergarten. I HAD been used. Those little tramps KNEW I would bring bubble gum in for them if they pretended like they liked me. How did they learn that? Who could be trusted?

My best friend forever, Jason, could be trusted, IRONICALLY, since he was the biggest liar I knew. Seriously. This guy lied about everything, to me , to his ex wife, to his boss, didn't matter. Wasn't mean though, just a knee-jerk reaction. A Natural Liar. It was sport to him, and I understood it. He could not lie his way into my money though, I knew that much, I would give him his fair share regardless of what he said to me. Not a penny more or less. I doubted he would care much about my money anyway, really, so long as he got a couple grand, enough to buy an old broken car, pay a few bills, buy a couple dozen cartons of smokes and a new electric smokeless cigarette with all the bells and whistles. Four grand. Seven, tops. I would give him half a million though, FUCK HIM. I may try to make him jump through a hoop or two however, I am a dick like that sometimes. He probably wouldn't do it though. He has a certain degree of pride. It is surprising when it surfaces.