I hated this girl. I hated her like nothing I ever felt before, I wanted to continue throwing objects at her, make her feel pain. She knew no pain.
She stared at me, awaiting an angel, why I do not know, she would simply talk in circles.
“An angle.. has wings. And a halo.” God, I am lame. I rubbed my arms. The girl stared at me, head cocked to one side, one eyebrow raised.
“Its someone who is good, who helps, who protects and works for God?”
She looked sad, she shook her head and walked out the door and down the stairs.
I felt alone. And cold.
We where at the dinner table, I always sat in the same spot. I now wondered at this, we all do it. You pick a spot, where you feel comfortable, you
make it your own. In school when you don’t have assigned seats, you sit in the same spot. Even if you don’t like those around you. You are
given the freedom to move at will. Diversity. We choose to ignore the freedom and stay where we where comfortable. I laughed at this, it seems so
silly.. how can you have a new experience if you do not allow variation in your life?
“Your learning. Your slow, and dense, but your learning.” The girl said beside me, mystically, I still had no idea what the hell she was talking
My father came in.
He died the day after my 21st birthday.
I missed him. “How was your day buddy?” he asked, in the same strong voice I remember, it nearly brought tears to my eyes to hear that voice.
I did not respond. Just glanced and gave him a nasty look. I wanted slap my self! I wanted to tear at my own skin. How dare I disrespect him like
that! The girl, she held me back, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I remembered the feeling. He was so lame, so old, what does he know. He was never young like me. God I was ignorant.
He always asked about my day! It was the same every damn day I went to school ok what’s so hard to understand about that old man?? Oh but now I
knew, he simply cared. Youth corrupted my mind, it blocked out every one but my self.
My father was a repair man. He never had money and it pissed me off to no end. I wanted new shoes damn it, every one else had new shoes. All my
clothes where old to, I only got new clothes on Christmas. I wanted to throw my spoon at his face, I wanted to shout my anger at him, how he
couldn’t even provide for one son and a wife, what a disgrace.
I tore at myself. How could I think such things! I did not need new shoes what the hell was wrong with me, I used to hate new shoes! Oh but I was
so self absorbed I didn’t care what I wanted, as long as other people approved. I never missed my father more then at that moment.
I sank to my knees, in convulsions I cried, I tore out my hair and slashed my skin with my nails. I hated my self, I was an idiot, a self absorbed
fool who cared little for any one. If only I knew then what I knew now, I could change, I could act different. I would help with the dishes instead
of yelling at my mother. I would ask my dad to go fishing instead of complain when he asked, preferring time alone in my room. That god damn room.
My cave. What a wasteful life. I did not deserve what I could have had.
Another move in scenery, I was 20 years old. I moved out of my parents house when I turned 18, I don’t know why now. I wanted freedom I guess, I
wanted to show the world what I could do.
I fell on my ass, that’s what I did.
At 19 I lost my best friend. Turns out we couldn’t live together, and after 13 years of friendship we stopped talking.
God, I miss the sun. The trees. Me and my friend swimming in the hand made pool. I closed my eyes, and I felt it once more. I felt the sun on my
face, the wind in my hair and the earth on my hands.
I opened my eyes, I was on my couch drinking a beer watching some sleazy show on TV. I hate TV now. I don’t know why. Seems so pointless as I
watch my self watch TV. Why watch, when you can go do. When you can read. When you can use your imagination.
I lived with this girl now, at 20, I don’t know why. I suppose I wanted to prove to her I loved her, that if we lived together it would cement the
relationship, right. I am an idiot, and I prove this to my self time and again. Do I ever learn? It appears not.
A change in scenes and I am at my parents house, My dad is walking with a cane. I wanted to throw the cane, I wanted to see my dad strong again.
What the hell is his problem, he acted older then he was in my opinion. My father is not weak, he used to pick me up with one arm as I swung, hanging
from his biceps. We used to wrestle, he could give me piggy back rides and could do anything. Now he’s so weak, and I wanted to scream.
He had an accident, driving. The doctor said he shouldn’t drive after his operation, he had a heart attack a few years ago, I was out of state at
the time. My mother was left alone threw the ordeal. I was a horrible son.
She called me, asking me to go to the store for him one night. She was to sick, and my father, the great man he was, offered to go for her. I was
drunk, some where, at some strange house, talking to some strange girl, drinking my life away. I hung up on her.
My father drove and passed out at the wheel, wrapping his car around a pole.
I began to cry once more, what the hell is wrong with me. I didn’t know it at the time, how my actions had such a profound effect on others in my
life. How little I cared. I vomited.
Me and my dad, we where supposed to go drinking at the bars on my 21st birthday. I got drunk with some buddies and passed out in an ally.
I never saw him again, he died the next morning from a heart attack. A broken heart, I think.
I deserve hell. I confirmed this now, I deserve hell.
“Your not alone. This is pretty typical actually, and like you said, your just an average guy.” She said, flat toned, she was angry. I could
No, I could feel. It was freezing. It was hot. It hurt to look at her, though she now looked 20, she was larger then I could ever perceive. She
was fuming mad.
“How was I supposed to know?” I asked, honestly, how was I supposed to know? I remember the feeling, the school sucked, work sucked. I just
wanted to get smashed, get laid and not give a damn anymore.
I remember how my dad walked with a cane before his death, before in my ignorance left him there. I remember now I never offered my hand to help him.
I never offered my hand to any one in assistance, unless it was to take someone else’s assistance.
“Greed” she spoke, softly. Maybe she whispered. “It destroys man.” Yes I thought, it does. “It has become man. Man is greed.” No, I
thought, there is some good in this world.
I looked around, we where in a city. A homeless man with a sign begged for food and money. “Do you know his story?” she looked at me with anger
as she spoke.
“No, why would I?” She still confused me.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t, you never cared enough to wonder. You saw right through him.” I felt the same sensations of anger as she
“He fought in two wars. He came back and his government treated him like a stray dog. His people, those he fought for, treated him even worse.
His wife left him, because he couldn’t shake the images of death from his eyes. Children dieing in his arms, mothers screaming for their loss, men
mangled about him as he lies in a field. The images are nothing, when compared to sounds, and those are nothing to the smells. The smell of burning
flesh, the smell of bombs, of men blown apart, broken. The smell of death. He screamed in the night, he drank in the day, his wife could not take
it. She left, with his two children. The doctors said he was crazy, gave him some medication, but the government wouldn’t pay. So he couldn’t
get a job with out the medication, no one wanted him, no one treated him like a human, but as an animal. Now, he begs for survival form the likes if
arrogant self consumed fools like your self.”
The world shook, the buildings fell, the world was consumed in fire and death, plagues and explosions, famine and thirst all at once. The world
A change of scene.
“Did the world just end?” I screamed, I panicked, what just happened?
“No” she signed. She looked so old. I remember how old my grandmother looked before she died. She looked like that, only infinite times older.
I felt bad for her. I put my arm around her, I comforted her.
“The world does not end, but if I could end it, that is what you deserve.” She pointed that last comment at me. I knew she meant Human in
I looked around, I knew this spot. I hated this spot.
We where at the spot of my death. I didn’t care it was where I died. This is where I destroyed my self, finally and completely.
I came here, I remembered, I remember the feeling.
I was young again, sneaking off after work with a co-worker for a little bit of fun before I returned to my prude of a wife. She never wanted to have
fun. I can count on both hands how many times we had sex a year. Monica was her name, who I ran off with. A beautiful brunette, she made me feel
young and wild again. I hated her.
The way she looked at me, seduced me. It was her fault.
“Why did you abandon all that you had for her? Why was she so special?” The woman to my right asked. She was tall and wise now. She made me
feel weak and low.
“I didn’t do it because of her did I? No, I was confused.” I replied, with sincerity.
“You lie. You did it because what you had was not good enough for you. It never was. Your son doesn’t know you, and you don’t know him. Your
father would be ashamed. Why didn’t you build him a tree house?”