RowanVer.3.0
January 22nd, 2007, 08:54 PM
A Great Time to Die
It was late in the evening, maybe eight thirty, probably nearer nine. Although I cant recall the exact time, as I never carry a watch, I believe it was around this time... I was watching the sunset in a field about a half-an-hour away from my place. It's golden-pink rays reflected a beautiful pink stream along the nearby river,the clouds also took on their suns colour. A sunset, probably the only pure thing left on a world of rape, drug abuse and pollution. It's said that it had only been 1992 years since Jesus had died... I didn't believe that, it's too short a time for a world where a savior walked and healed it's people to turn to this. Thinking back, I think I believed back then... In god, I mean. I guess I just hoped that at the end there would be a reward for the good deeds I had done, and all the bullshit I had put up with... Gee, maybe I wanted to believe that my little brother Mark was in a better place...Or, maybe I was just naive, after all, I had only been fourteen then, on the night that it happened...
I lived in a small suburb off the side of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Eight thirty on a Sunday... A great time to die? I didn't think so either. In fact, I don't even think it crossed my mind that a nuclear war could break out... Heck, why would it? Shoot, I was more concerned why my parents didn't care if I was out past midnight on a school-night. They didn't though.. Those bastards. I don't care about them... I could tell myself that a million times and it wouldn't make me feel any better. I loved them, I don't know if they loved me back... They sure as heck didn't show it. I had a feeling nobody was even home that night, and I hadn't eaten since noon. They were probably out drinking at some bar... I was used to it though. Strangely enough, even though I was malnourished I never really got annorexically thin. I always had a slight build, even then, at age fourteen.
I figured Id head home as soon as the sun went down.. That was usually around 9:30 PM... I might have slept out at the field if it wasn't for the extreme hunger growing inside me. I'd probably have a bowl or two of old cereal with dated milk. It didn't taste too good, and I had to brush my teeth a million times afterwards to get the taste out of my mouth.. But, that was my life. Maybe afterwards my stomach would disagree with the terrible tasting stuff and Id vomit, leaving me hungry all over again. It was possible... Sometimes my parents make me a decent meal. This was usually on one of those days that they were going to change. Thats what they'd say ,"Oh hon, don't worry.. I'm real sorry for how bad've a mother I've been.." It was usually mom that did that. I think she deep down felt bad for being like she was, but the next week shed always be out boozing again. Made me sick, and somehow sad somethin' awful... Id never drink because of it, though.
The grass was comfortable on my bare back. I was only wearing jeans, it was just so darn hot in Louisiana during late spring. Golly, Id probably have a heat-stroke if I had to wear a shirt all of the time. Guess it was global warming catching up on us... Despite how comfortable I was, I decided I was going to head home. It was getting a bit dark anyway... It was around then that I remembered, I was supposed to meet Lisse at the
Vacant Lot at 9 'Oclock! I didn't know why shed want to talk with me. We never really got along. We lived close though and had known each other for as long as I can remember... Funny thing, I didn't even know her last name then, though.
She was kind of pretty. Real tall and thin though. She got that from her mothers side I guess. Her mom was a lot taller than me back then. I reckon she was a good 5'9", and despite the fact that Lisse was a little under a year younger than me, she was still taller than me. I bet she was about 5'7" all the way back then. I was probably more around 5'5". I was insecure about my size, I thought I was real small for my age. Geeze, I was real upset. I kind of wanted to spend some time with her. I didn't have a whole lot of friends, and none of them were girls
.
I really dreaded the walk home... I didn't dislike walking, and I kind of like how quiet it is at home(that is until my parents stumble in drunk). It was just, people don't really like me at my neighborhood I guess. When I was younger I was a real trouble maker. Throwin' rocks through windows, keying cars and just being an over-all ruffian, I guess. I wasn't like that now. Ever since my younger brother died in the drunk driving accident, I was different. I guess it really made me think, y'know... Maybe even got me a little paranoid, cause I wouldn't say boo if I was up to my nose in shit, now.. It made me a lot more reserved, and I guess made me think a lot deeper too. Anyhow, Marks death isn't really relevant right now. Fact is, I wudn real liked around my neighborhood. Sometimes older people( people older and bigger than me)- heck, even adults from time to time would jump me.... Thats when it was the scariest, when a couple of adults twice my size would lay a hammerin' on me. There was something about it that got me a little bit spooked out. I bet it was cause I cant really put up a fight at all to an adult. They just hold me down and wail on me. I can put up with the pain, it aint so bad. Maybe limp around for a week.. But it was the mental trauma that it put me through that really hurt. Why would complete strangers want to hurt me so bad?
I arrived in the bad parts of town. Where I lived. The first few streets weren't so bad. The pot-holes weren't real noticeable, and the walls didn't really have a whole lot of spray-paint on em... It was around the third or fourth street that it got horrible. Shady-lookin characters with big coats standin' at corners, women dressed in nothin' but stockings and bra n panties flauntin' around lookin' for a pick up and the occasional guy who thought he was the next Tupac... Thats the part of town in which I live... This is the part of town where people hated me.. Heck, I figure the hookers even hated me, by the looks some of 'em'd give me..
"Pak!", I felt something hit me in the back of the head, it felt like it cracked my head wide open like a watermelon.. I fell to my knees, clutching the back of my head for my dear life. There was a bump about the size of mount Everist formin' where I was hit.. If Mount Everist was a volcano, it'd be an even better analogy, cause there was a steady little stream of blood dripping between my fingers now.. My medium-long blond hair was probably tainted red in that area.
I knew this feeling. Someoned threw a rock at my head. I didn't want to fight, they probably had a pole or a log or somethin', not to mention I was so hungry I could eat a
horse. I began to feel a little sick, my stomach got uneasy, my fingers turned numb and I had a headache worthy of callin' a helluva pain. I nearly up-chucked when I stumbled to my feet. I didn't look back, just ran. I was a fast runner, even sick, I bet not a lot of these thugs could catch me. It took me a few minutes to realize where I was after I took that hit to the head. I realized I was only a block away from my street. I didn't know if Id make it feeling like that.. I looked back and saw a couple of kids a bit older than me trailing quickly behind me. Probably in the 15-17 age range... By the time I arrived at my house, the thugs chasing me were nowhere to be seen.
There was nobody home, just as I suspected... I walked in the back door that had been kicked in by my drunken father a year earlier. It turns out there was a TV Dinner in the freezer, guess I wasn't going to have to eat old Cereal after all. After I ate, I rinsed my head with water, and looked for some peroxide to put on the cut. It took about 10 minutes before I finally gave up lookin'. I probably wouldn't get an infection, I figured... After all that, I looked at the clock in the living room, it was twenty after nine. Lisse was definitely gone.
Anyway, I wrote this today after I came home from my English Exams.. I guess they got me in a writing mood or something. I wrote it with some program called FlyWord, so when I pasted it here all the commas changed to boxes.. I don't know why, so don't ask me... Just ignore them if you can. If you can't, don't read it :)
Btw, bear with the southern accent type thing, he's supposed to be from Louissiana after all :)
It was late in the evening, maybe eight thirty, probably nearer nine. Although I cant recall the exact time, as I never carry a watch, I believe it was around this time... I was watching the sunset in a field about a half-an-hour away from my place. It's golden-pink rays reflected a beautiful pink stream along the nearby river,the clouds also took on their suns colour. A sunset, probably the only pure thing left on a world of rape, drug abuse and pollution. It's said that it had only been 1992 years since Jesus had died... I didn't believe that, it's too short a time for a world where a savior walked and healed it's people to turn to this. Thinking back, I think I believed back then... In god, I mean. I guess I just hoped that at the end there would be a reward for the good deeds I had done, and all the bullshit I had put up with... Gee, maybe I wanted to believe that my little brother Mark was in a better place...Or, maybe I was just naive, after all, I had only been fourteen then, on the night that it happened...
I lived in a small suburb off the side of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Eight thirty on a Sunday... A great time to die? I didn't think so either. In fact, I don't even think it crossed my mind that a nuclear war could break out... Heck, why would it? Shoot, I was more concerned why my parents didn't care if I was out past midnight on a school-night. They didn't though.. Those bastards. I don't care about them... I could tell myself that a million times and it wouldn't make me feel any better. I loved them, I don't know if they loved me back... They sure as heck didn't show it. I had a feeling nobody was even home that night, and I hadn't eaten since noon. They were probably out drinking at some bar... I was used to it though. Strangely enough, even though I was malnourished I never really got annorexically thin. I always had a slight build, even then, at age fourteen.
I figured Id head home as soon as the sun went down.. That was usually around 9:30 PM... I might have slept out at the field if it wasn't for the extreme hunger growing inside me. I'd probably have a bowl or two of old cereal with dated milk. It didn't taste too good, and I had to brush my teeth a million times afterwards to get the taste out of my mouth.. But, that was my life. Maybe afterwards my stomach would disagree with the terrible tasting stuff and Id vomit, leaving me hungry all over again. It was possible... Sometimes my parents make me a decent meal. This was usually on one of those days that they were going to change. Thats what they'd say ,"Oh hon, don't worry.. I'm real sorry for how bad've a mother I've been.." It was usually mom that did that. I think she deep down felt bad for being like she was, but the next week shed always be out boozing again. Made me sick, and somehow sad somethin' awful... Id never drink because of it, though.
The grass was comfortable on my bare back. I was only wearing jeans, it was just so darn hot in Louisiana during late spring. Golly, Id probably have a heat-stroke if I had to wear a shirt all of the time. Guess it was global warming catching up on us... Despite how comfortable I was, I decided I was going to head home. It was getting a bit dark anyway... It was around then that I remembered, I was supposed to meet Lisse at the
Vacant Lot at 9 'Oclock! I didn't know why shed want to talk with me. We never really got along. We lived close though and had known each other for as long as I can remember... Funny thing, I didn't even know her last name then, though.
She was kind of pretty. Real tall and thin though. She got that from her mothers side I guess. Her mom was a lot taller than me back then. I reckon she was a good 5'9", and despite the fact that Lisse was a little under a year younger than me, she was still taller than me. I bet she was about 5'7" all the way back then. I was probably more around 5'5". I was insecure about my size, I thought I was real small for my age. Geeze, I was real upset. I kind of wanted to spend some time with her. I didn't have a whole lot of friends, and none of them were girls
.
I really dreaded the walk home... I didn't dislike walking, and I kind of like how quiet it is at home(that is until my parents stumble in drunk). It was just, people don't really like me at my neighborhood I guess. When I was younger I was a real trouble maker. Throwin' rocks through windows, keying cars and just being an over-all ruffian, I guess. I wasn't like that now. Ever since my younger brother died in the drunk driving accident, I was different. I guess it really made me think, y'know... Maybe even got me a little paranoid, cause I wouldn't say boo if I was up to my nose in shit, now.. It made me a lot more reserved, and I guess made me think a lot deeper too. Anyhow, Marks death isn't really relevant right now. Fact is, I wudn real liked around my neighborhood. Sometimes older people( people older and bigger than me)- heck, even adults from time to time would jump me.... Thats when it was the scariest, when a couple of adults twice my size would lay a hammerin' on me. There was something about it that got me a little bit spooked out. I bet it was cause I cant really put up a fight at all to an adult. They just hold me down and wail on me. I can put up with the pain, it aint so bad. Maybe limp around for a week.. But it was the mental trauma that it put me through that really hurt. Why would complete strangers want to hurt me so bad?
I arrived in the bad parts of town. Where I lived. The first few streets weren't so bad. The pot-holes weren't real noticeable, and the walls didn't really have a whole lot of spray-paint on em... It was around the third or fourth street that it got horrible. Shady-lookin characters with big coats standin' at corners, women dressed in nothin' but stockings and bra n panties flauntin' around lookin' for a pick up and the occasional guy who thought he was the next Tupac... Thats the part of town in which I live... This is the part of town where people hated me.. Heck, I figure the hookers even hated me, by the looks some of 'em'd give me..
"Pak!", I felt something hit me in the back of the head, it felt like it cracked my head wide open like a watermelon.. I fell to my knees, clutching the back of my head for my dear life. There was a bump about the size of mount Everist formin' where I was hit.. If Mount Everist was a volcano, it'd be an even better analogy, cause there was a steady little stream of blood dripping between my fingers now.. My medium-long blond hair was probably tainted red in that area.
I knew this feeling. Someoned threw a rock at my head. I didn't want to fight, they probably had a pole or a log or somethin', not to mention I was so hungry I could eat a
horse. I began to feel a little sick, my stomach got uneasy, my fingers turned numb and I had a headache worthy of callin' a helluva pain. I nearly up-chucked when I stumbled to my feet. I didn't look back, just ran. I was a fast runner, even sick, I bet not a lot of these thugs could catch me. It took me a few minutes to realize where I was after I took that hit to the head. I realized I was only a block away from my street. I didn't know if Id make it feeling like that.. I looked back and saw a couple of kids a bit older than me trailing quickly behind me. Probably in the 15-17 age range... By the time I arrived at my house, the thugs chasing me were nowhere to be seen.
There was nobody home, just as I suspected... I walked in the back door that had been kicked in by my drunken father a year earlier. It turns out there was a TV Dinner in the freezer, guess I wasn't going to have to eat old Cereal after all. After I ate, I rinsed my head with water, and looked for some peroxide to put on the cut. It took about 10 minutes before I finally gave up lookin'. I probably wouldn't get an infection, I figured... After all that, I looked at the clock in the living room, it was twenty after nine. Lisse was definitely gone.
Anyway, I wrote this today after I came home from my English Exams.. I guess they got me in a writing mood or something. I wrote it with some program called FlyWord, so when I pasted it here all the commas changed to boxes.. I don't know why, so don't ask me... Just ignore them if you can. If you can't, don't read it :)
Btw, bear with the southern accent type thing, he's supposed to be from Louissiana after all :)