Earl
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Earl
Earl laid on the floor of my bedroom, his head tilted back in an awkward angle in a puddle of his own blood. His body was cold, the warmth that coursed through his body left a long time ago, sometime in the night when nobody was around but me. I was there when he died, and yet I did nothing to salvage what was left of his life. Some friend you were, some friends you were. Earl's body was crushed, broken in a dozen places and his guts splattered all over the wooden tiles, a disturbing sight not for the weak stomached. My sister from next door asked what happened in my room, and for a moment she wanted to come over to see what had happened. I stopped her before she could peer into the darkness of my room, because the corpse of a dead friend would have scared the living daylight out of her. It was almost four in the morning at that time, the air around my room was deathly quiet save for the throbbing of my heart. Earl was dead, and I was the one that killed him. It was too late to save him then, he has already passed on into the netherworld. I contemplated on what to do with the body, whether or not to pack him up in a bag or to dispose of him in the morning. His blank stare was piercing, and there was a strange sense of guilt in my head that I couldn't get rid of, the conscience was kicking in. I killed my roommate yesterday night, I killed him by rolling over him with the wheels on my chair. A bloody and gruesome death that no one deserves indeed.
Earl laid on the floor of my bedroom, his head tilted back in an awkward angle in a puddle of his own blood. His body was cold, the warmth that coursed through his body left a long time ago, sometime in the night when nobody was around but me. I was there when he died, and yet I did nothing to salvage what was left of his life. Some friend you were, some friends you were. Earl's body was crushed, broken in a dozen places and his guts splattered all over the wooden tiles, a disturbing sight not for the weak stomached. My sister from next door asked what happened in my room, and for a moment she wanted to come over to see what had happened. I stopped her before she could peer into the darkness of my room, because the corpse of a dead friend would have scared the living daylight out of her. It was almost four in the morning at that time, the air around my room was deathly quiet save for the throbbing of my heart. Earl was dead, and I was the one that killed him. It was too late to save him then, he has already passed on into the netherworld. I contemplated on what to do with the body, whether or not to pack him up in a bag or to dispose of him in the morning. His blank stare was piercing, and there was a strange sense of guilt in my head that I couldn't get rid of, the conscience was kicking in. I killed my roommate yesterday night, I killed him by rolling over him with the wheels on my chair. A bloody and gruesome death that no one deserves indeed.
Earl is, if you haven't already figured out, is the lizard that has been living in my bedroom. I killed Earl last night without knowing it, and his body was only discovered by the edge of my feet when I came back from the toilet at one point in the night, as I gently pushed at the strange alien object that laid upon the floor within the darkness of my room. Turning on the lights, I realized that sometime in the night, I must have accidentally rolled over Earl with the wheels at the bottom of my chair, or at least that is what I hope has happened last night. I wouldn't want to know that I stepped on Earl with my own foot, that'd be very disturbing. I'd have the blood of a friend on my skin, and the stench would take a long time to wash off, definitely. His tail laid a few centimeters away from his body, and in between was a slight trail of blood and lizard guts. Earl wasn't exactly the biggest house lizard that I have seen, but his size was substantial enough to make loud noises in my bedroom that sounded almost like a giant cuckoo clock at times. To know that I ran over it unknowingly was, well, disturbing. It must have felt horrible, in the last moments of his life, that it wasn't age that got to him but a horrible accident in the dark. I'm sorry, Earl. I'm sorry.
Earl has been a residence of my bedroom for a very long time, or as long as I can remember. I think he moved into this room a few years after I did, and he has been hanging around every now and then ever since. Earl was a very shy lizard, always seen scrambling away from me whenever I enter the room or, if I make a sudden movement or sound that'd scare him into the back of the cupboards on one side of my room. He liked the dark and narrow spaces behind those cupboards, although he'd sometimes venture out as far as the back of the air-conditioning. However, he was never actually comfortable with anything that moved or vibrated, which was why he remained behind the cupboard most of the time. Earl is one of the three lizards that I know of in the house, and he should be so lucky to be the one in my bedroom. I seldom care about his existence, other than the time when he decided that it'd be fun to take a dump on my poster. There was this other time when I saw Earl scrambling across the bedroom floor and then running his head straight into the bottom of my door. He pretended nothing happened and ducked under the door straight afterwards. But I was there, and I saw. He was probably out to visit his friends that very night.
Jake lives in the kitchen, and he is still there every now and then, looking through the trash for food and such. Jake is my sister's greatest enemy, because his presence in the kitchen never fails to cause my sister to scream in horror and disgust. My sister has to brave Jake's presence in order to make her supper late at night, which to me can be the most amusing sight ever. Jake and Earl were pets of the family, until the latter passed on last night on my floor. I mean, we don't consciously take care of them or anything, but I am sure we fed them indirectly with our leftovers in the trash, and you can hear them fidgeting in there from time to time. I'm not sure how Tony gets his food though, he resides in the bathroom most of the time. He's a really small lizard that appears once in a while when I am taking my dump, and I've only really seen him about four times. I don't suppose there is anything in the bathroom that could sustain his life, but I guess something is. My mother doesn't like the idea of killing these three residences of my home despite the fact that they don't pay rent. My mother likes to think that they get rid of unwanted bugs like mosquitoes and ants in the house, although I am not so sure about that most of the time. My police is easy: stay away from me and I will stay away from you.
Earl liked cleanliness, he kept his body clean with his tongue most of the time. He liked bugs a lot, but he had a terrible habit of taking his dump anywhere and everywhere. That was a problem a few years ago when his close relatives were rampant in my home, though the population has dropped over the years rapidly. By the way, I know that Earl is a he because he makes mating calls every once in a while, and I think only male lizards do the mating calls, not the females. So, I decided to name him Earl one night, a random name I thought of after watching an episode of My Name is Earl - yeah, I can be that random. Anyway, so Earl isn't the most careful lizard I have met, which is why he was met with such a horrific accident last night. I don't suppose you can blame me completely for it, but he could have looked both ways before crossing my floor, right? I mean, it'd be smart to not cross behind the wheels of my chair, he could have scaled the ceiling although it would have taken much longer to get from point A to point B. But no, Earl was lazy, and he wanted the easy way out. Look what you got yourself into, Earl, look what you've done.
I took the broom and swept Earl into the duster. His cold body rolled lifelessly onto the dusty surface, and the rest of the mess on the floor was cleaned up subsequently. In a few moments, my bedroom was back to normal, and the corpse was removed and the guts cleaned away. It was already four in the morning, and nothing has changed in my bedroom despite the death of a friend. Earl died last night, and life continued in its ceaseless ways. I suppose the lizard-poop count is going to drop significantly in my room, but that is not to say that I welcome that wholeheartedly. We do have other bugs hanging around despite the fact that I live on the nineteenth floor - bugs can get pretty adventurous. I slept well because of Earl, because he was always there to swallow uninvited bugs. So that was the end of our friendship and partnership, it ended underneath the wheel of my chair and in a horrid splatter of blood and guts. I am sorry Earl, I am deeply sorry for what I accidently did to you. It was not intentional, it really wasn't, and I don't suppose you'd forgive me for that.
The truth is, Earl, I wish you all the best in your lizard heaven, if there is such a place for you creepy crawlers too. I'd imagine a lizard heaven to have a hell lot of bugs for you to feast on, and probably a lot of walls for you to climb on. That'd be a nice heaven for you, wouldn't it? I don't suppose I'd like to visit you when I pass on, I am not a fan of bugs, you know? Anyway, until the next lizard comes along to live in my bedroom, you shall be dearly missed as the accidental house pet, and the accidental friend of mine. I killed a friend last night, and his name is Earl. So much for the holidays, a bad bad omen indeed. Once again, I am sorry Earl. I really am.
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on Thursday, August 07, 2008 at 3:28 AM.
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