Jones ignored his father and prepared the medication.
“Can you hear me bitch? I’ve been waiting for five minutes!”
He followed the exact same routine as he always did, with one exception, the drug.
“You stupid whore!” The old man rolled up his sleeve. “You’re always late!”
“This first.” Jones gave the old man a mug with pills.
“Don’t you tell me what to do you son of a bitch!” He swallowed the pills. “I should have drowned you the day you were born. I should kill you now, and put you of your misery.”
“Stay still.” The veins rolled as Jones tried to stick the needle in.
“Can’t you do anything right?”
The needle found its target and he injected the drug. “Sweet dreams dad.”
“Don’t you dad me, you …”
Jones slammed the door behind him and pocketed the syringe. Then he went straight to his car and turned the stereo on loud. Moments later the neighbours' light went on and Mrs. Fernandez opened the window.
“No loud music!” she shouted.
He started the car and drove straight to the Crowbar. The bartender filled his glass as soon as she saw him and he took it to his usual spot. “Just stick to the routine,” he thought. The weeks he had spent planning it all had finally come to the test. When the morning came, he would be drunk and the nurse would find his father’s dead body. No one would suspect any foul play since everything had happened as it normally did and the drug would be out of the old man’s system by then. He flirted with the barmaid whiles congratulating himself for a plan well executed.
He had finally put him out of his misery.
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