Edge of Reality [Elvis]

1973 - My Angel

Hammers pounded in my skull. I had been up all night with friends. No one was awake in the house when I arrived back since it was around five in the morning. I needed sleep. My body was shaking. I needed those pills. Was Cilla home? Of course she was. We were married. She would be asleep. Did she know about those girls? Man, I wanted to see Lisa.

My head ran with random thoughts and throbbed as I stepped up the stairs, but tripped on a step near the top, and I banged my knee. An obscenity escaped my lips as I reached the top and turned the corner to get to my room. My hand gripped the rail and breath slithered through my teeth because of my aching head. Those pills weren't far.

My vision caught my bedroom doors, and I opened one of them. The room was dark. Not bothering to turn on the light, I made a B-line to the bathroom and turned on the light in there, lighting some of the bedroom. The man staring back at me in the mirror...

He was a ghost. So white. Pale against the black hair and black suit. My face shined with sweat, and purple bruises were seen under my eyes.

Where are those pills? There are so many on the counter.

I looked at the labels and found the sleeping pills. I popped two. I found the pain relief. I popped three. I drank them down with water from the tap.

"Elvis?"

Someone appeared in the doorway. It was Cilla, wearing a really hot skimpy pink nighty. I smiled at her. "Hey, baby. Did I wake you up?"

Her green eyes that had no makeup around them stared at me, and I noticed a crease in her brow. "Elvis... I, yes, you did, but that doesn't matter. I'm used to it. Really... what's going on with you?"

"I just found out somethin'... somethin' 'bout the Colonel."

"And what's that?"

"My friends and I were out in the court in the back..."

I bowed my head as I gripped the counter. My mind suddenly went blank, and I shook my head. What was I going to say?

"What about the Colonel?" Cilla prodded.

"Oh. Well... today, someone told me that he's an alien. Like, an alien from another country. He's no Colonel. Get that, Cilla. My manager's been lyin' to me and to everyone for almost twenty years!"

I took the pill bottle for pain relief, and Cilla snatched it right out of my hand. "Elvis, take any more and you'll be put into the hospital! Forget those." She threw them into our room somewhere. "What about the Colonel? He's an illegal alien?"

"Yeah. And... how 'bout you go get those pills you just threw into the room like that. I need those. And... put on some makeup, too."

Her eyes started to water, and a tear escaped her eye. "Elvis, you're not in your right mind. You're acting drunk, but really, it's all those pills."

"Drunk, huh? I haven't sipped alcohol in twenty years."

"Yeah, but the pills do it. Now, come to bed."

She took my arm, but I pulled it out of her grip. "I'll go to sleep once the pills kick in."

"Elvis..." she muttered tersely, a hand to her forehead. She took up those pills. "How many sleeping pills did you take?"

Irritation gripped my insides, and I slapped the bottle out of her hands, and it fell into the sink. "Why does it matter, huh?!" I hollered. "I need sleep! You know it! I never get any sleep! It's been like that for years!"

More tears leaked from her eyes, and a couple seconds later, we both heard, "Daddy?" in a small voice coming from the bedroom. Cilla immediately turned and went into the room.