Finally I arrive to my house. Unfastening the urn from it's seat restraints, I slowly and woefully carry it to my doorstep. Rotating the doorknob, I creak open the door, expecting Eric to be in slumber.

I am incorrect. Eric is awake, aware, and angry.

"Hey pop'." He quietly says.

He has never called me that before.

"Eric, what are you doing up so early?" I ask.

"It's seven in the morning." He replies.

Already? How long have I visited the morgue?"

I notice our kitchen knife sharpening tool laying on the counter. It appears to have been freshly used...

"Are you feeling alright Eric?" I ask as I remove my coat and toss it onto the recliner chair in our living room.

"You're trying to forget, aren't you?" Eric sharply questions.

I know exactly what he is talking about. But I decide to play dumb.

"Forget what?" I casually ask.

"You know damn well fucking what!" He screams in impatient anger.

As if switching from a raging personality to a content one, he quietly and calmly adds to his sentence.

"It can't be forgotten."

I shake my head. "What else is there to do?" I question.

"You should put Warrington six feet under!" He excitedly responds.

I gasp. "What he did was accidental!" I firmly reply.

"Maybe." Eric replies. "Or maybe not. He clearly never liked Mom."

"What are you talking about?" I question.

"Remember when he injected a flu shot into me and rather than cure me, it made me ill to my stomach for three days? Remember how she stormed down to the hospital, cussed him to Hell, and knocked over his filing cabinets?"

"Well, yes." I reply. "But-"

"But nothing!" Eric interrupts me. "Since then he refused to treat me, make appointments, shit I've even caught him glaring at Mom a few times!"

"Warrington is not a murderer Eric!" I yell in frustration.

"No, he just "accidentally" pierced the only lung available for her transplant, even though before that he's never made a mistake in his career." Eric replies.

I acquit responding to Eric.

Suddenly there is a loud knocking our front door, as well as several doorbell ringings.

I dash towards the door. Opening it, Warrington is standing there to my surprise.

"Warrington?" I question. "...what in God's miserable name do you want?"

"If I could step inside, I'd like to have a talk with you."

Eric notices Warrington.

"Look who came." He menacingly growls.

"Come inside." I say to Warrington, ignoring Eric's remark.

"I'd like to...apologize and clear myself of any accusations of intention." Warrington meekly says.

"You can't clear yourself of shit! Not in my eyes!" Eric crudely states.

"Say what you need to say." I assure.

"Well," Warrington begins. "Sharon's always been a good person, and I don't know what happened or how."

"Stop denying the past!" Eric interrupts.

"Eric settle down!" I demand.

Warrington continues. "I will say that I did not do this intentionally. My hands tremble, I have a blood iron deficiency."

"Oh, so the surgeon has low iron?" Eric scoffs.

"Yes...anyways, as I was halfway finished transplanting the lung, stitching and such, I grabbed a scalpel to clean the end of an artery. As I moved the scalpel towards the artery, I accidentally sliced the lung." He finishes his statement.

Eric's neck slightly twitches.

I glance at Eric.

Tension rises as several minutes of silence passes.

"Do you understand?" Warrington asks.

I do not respond.

Eric opens the drawer beside him and retrieves a freshly sharpened knife. "Understand this you son of a bitch!" He plunges the large knife about three inches deep into Warrington's shoulder. Clutching his shoulder in pain, he falls to his left side and crashes to the ground.

"Eric!" I scream.

Eric snaps into a mode of rage. Grasping Warrington's shirt collar, he shoves him into our sliding glass door, breaking it. As Warrington lays on the cold concrete of our backdoor patio, I fail to react. Something inside me is stopping me from superseding Eric's rampage.

Eric notices a large shard of broken glass on the kitchen floor. Grabbing it, he dashes towards Warrington. I simply stare, emotionlessly.

Eric plunges the glass shard deep into Warrington's heart. Blood flows from the wound . Warrington attempts to stand, but Eric grabs a wooden broom handle and strikes Warrington's legs, sending him back to the ground.

Warrington howls in pain as he begins quivering. He quivers, howls, and spasms for several minutes before dying.

I stumble towards his corpse, noticing his pale face. He is dead.

With my left hand, I close his eyes for eternity.

The End.

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