JIM CARROLL
โฉ โ ๐ซ๐น๐ผ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฝ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ต๐บ ๐ป๐ถ๐ถ ๐บ๐ป๐น๐ถ๐ต๐ฎโ
Wind, sand and stars. The wind is warm, the sand is hot, and the stars are bright and... singing. They sing because they were under acid. The stars are singing their favorite song โ Jim's lullaby, which you often heard from him.
And, unlike the original, Carroll's voice didn't fit here at all. Starting with the fact that the singer is a woman in the original, and ending with these "aaaahhh", which Jim hummed so funny (hysterically) and disgusting at the same time that you wanted to jump out the window without listening to this song.
But now you were ready to listen, to listen to everything. There's a bruise under Jim's eye, a split lip, and blood from his nose.
Usually, when he comes to your house after drug incidents, you are silent. You treat his wounds and silently, with pity, look at his face while he looks at the floor and does not even look up at you. He knows that you're looking at him, but he's silent, and he doesn't look back.
While he was pouring alcohol diluted in water into cups, you opened the first-aid kit to treat his wounds. You stood in front of him and, having soaked a cotton wool in peroxide, ran it over a split eyebrow, which made him swear loudly, clutching the sheet under his hand. You leaned too close to him, and you didn't even hear him stop breathing. He was looking at you today when you were treating his wounds.
Not at the floor, not at the wall, not at the window โ at you.
You ran a second cotton swab over your split lip, and he wrinkled up, pulled back, took a breath and looked at you with worry.
"No, no, no.. Better not. Iโve already been through enough. It will heal itself."