(no subject)
“Time’s tide will smother you, boy”- a haggard bum yelled with a bottle (that had a crumbled brown paper bag wrapped around it) in the air with her mellowed grief. The boy slowly staggered into a rain-drenched alleyway. The streetlight shone on the street as if it were a greased frying pan under a Mississippi stove. The light cast a shadow over his lowly body like a funeral veil. His scared back sledded down the graffiti-infested wall as he sunk into the cushioned earth. He hid his face behind his long leafy braches and began to slowly let little baby tears trickle down is face.
“WHEN YOU SAY IT’S GUNNA NOW WELL WHEN EXACTLY DO YOU MEAN IS NOW SEE I’VE ALREADY WAITED TO LONG…AND ALL MY HOPE IS GONE,” he shouted at the stars blocked by all the city lights and steam. The sky never did answer him back. As he cried he bared his brain, his soul, his inner conscious stream. His insides created a river the color of land. As he cried his thoughts spilled out onto the wall…
Vivid images of his past danced around in his brain. His eyes shut like a dieing light bulb. He was out. His mind entered into his unconscious. Strange ways, here we come repeteaded its self loudly with a distorted background and a WHA-peddle injection. He fell deeper and deeper. Georgie awoke like a train trying to put on its breaks. When he opened his eyes he couldn’t see anything, a porcelain blizzard surrounded him. When he closed his eyes all he could see was black, all color like his hope was gone. He opened his eyes once more and a tall slender figure stood before him. It was like something out of an old horror film. The man was dressed in all red and a smudged white belt. His nose was unearthly; it was the size and shape of a ripe banana.
The man opened his mouth and began to speak.
“ I am your inner conscious. I am you, George F. Alban on the inside flipped inside out. I’ve come to tell you the story of your life. You’re starting to turn back into coyote. Do you really want to be a COYOTE? The first step in the healing process is this.”
“ The world won’t listen, and it’s written all over my face,” said Georgie in complete and utter distain.
“Alright, come boy. Lay your head here. I’m going to peal your scalp off, and relieve you of this pain. I need to go inside of you and shovel up your past and take its cancerous cells out”.
“Hey Georgie Boy”- said Georgie’s older brother Michael.
Michael. It’s funny how the things you put your love and hope in eventually crumble and fade away. You thought he was so cool. He was the tough kid on the block. He was the one with the garage band. He ate all that up too.
“Hi Georgie,”- Amanda giggling and waving at you with her flawless fingertips and flaxen hair.
Amanda. Michael’s girlfriend Amanda. The girl that everyone wanted, including you. She was cool. She had this really rad pink leather jacket. She smelled nice.
“You wanna help us out don’t you? You got to do it. Think of all we do for you! It’s the least you could do,” Michael being a persuasive asshole like normally was.
Ah you remember this, don’t you? Mr. Adams’ funeral. All three of you snuck in Weeping Willows during a foggy fall night. They thought they were so cool. You were just an out of place teenager. You just wanted to be loved, then again doesn’t everybody? Suddenly you were there. You and Michael started to dig. Every shovel filled with the sour cemetery soil drew you closer and closer to his casket. CLACK! Your shovel reached the top of his casket. You could feel the vibrations of afterlife pumping through the handle of your rusty shovel. You and Michael carefully slid the rest of the dirt off the top of his casket. Your heart was throbbing beating faster and faster and faster and faster. It felt like it was going to come flying out of your throat at any moment and whack Amanda in the stomach.
You and Michael climbed down into his hole. You struggled to push the heavy lid off the casket. This was the first view you had of a nightmare that’s never ended. The money was in his suit coat. You unbuttoned his jacket as fast as you could. It was hard to control your trembling fingers. The slick black buttons were very cold. There was already some corrosion on his face. It was hard to look at.
“HEY WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING DOWN THERE,” he withered cemetery watchman started running towards us.
Michael hopped out of the hole. He slammed the top of the casket on your tiny arm. They were gone. You were trapped and your adolescent cheek was about 2 inches from Mr. Adams rotting face. You could smell the strong oils they put on his body to preserve him. You began to puke profusely. 5 minutes later the watchman finally arrived.
The next thing you knew you were sent to live with your 86-year-old Grandmother in some place called Kearny, Nebraska. Your parents had such a deep hatred for you. I think that if you would have stayed there one of them would have stabbed you in the chest. You didn’t rat Michael out.
Your Grandma looked like Mr. Adams and smelt like him too. You had to feed her. You had to change her. You were only 15 years old. You were hand feeding an 86-year-old Schizophrenic. You were only 15 years old. You were changing your 86-year-old Grandma’s diaper. This was something you never got used to. She should have been in a nursing home. Her house was on an old farm. The floorboards were loose, the ceiling dripped fuzzy green puddles, and every once in a while a large rat would scurry across the kitchen floor. Your room was in the basement. You had a mattress and an old sheet that had large moth eaten holes in it. It smelled stale down there. Ever since Mr.Adams all you could smell is him, all you can taste is him, all you can see is him.
After about a month of you living in town you got a job at the local grocery store. The mediocrity of it made your ears bleed. You worked with a really quiet girl. The first thing she ever said to you was “Now I know how Joan of Arc felt as the flames rose to her roman nose and her walkman started to melt”. You loved her. Everyday she would say something really random like that to you. After about 3 months she asked you if you wanted to go to the forest with her. You accepted. That was the most amazing trip of your natural born life.
The feeling you felt was indescribable. Your face was permanently stapled into the shape of a smile. It felt as if the air you were breathing in was fresh. You felt new. You were in love and she was your girl. She said she smoked because “she was hoping for an early death”. Her has hair was long, smooth, and jet-black. She wore large round glasses. She was truly beautiful. Nina.
Nina moved in with you. She thought you taking care of your grandma was preposterous and unfair. She lived with you for a few years in that old farmhouse. Your grandma kept surviving the years. I don’t know how it was possible. She just wouldn’t go.
At about 3 o clock in the morning on June the 12th you heard a large crashing sound upstairs. Your eyes were glued open as you ran up stairs. You ran so fast you tripped and fell down 5 steps but you continued to run. Nina was an insomniac. She was probably just stacking the plates up like she normally does and they just fell. You finally made it up the stairs.
Michael was standing in your kitchen. He casually was eating a left over sandwich. He looked very old for his age. There were distinct dope tracks running up his arms. Why was he there? For some reason your TV that is normally in the living room was at his feet.
You just looked at him and raw uncontained anger took over your body. I can’t explain it. You just exploded. You ripped the antenna out of the TV and whacked him in the side of the head with it and slammed the TV on his feet. You just started wailing on him. This anger was just living in a deep cave inside of your body locked up for all these years. The dragon that was chained up in your soul was finally unleashed.
Nina absent mindedly walked into the kitchen. She had her headphones on the whole time and had no idea what just went on. She tried to pull you away from Michael. You grabbed a hold of her and held her close.
All of a sudden 3 men walk into out house. They were dressed in oversized pants, coats, and jewelry. They also had oversized guns. Their leader began to speak
“GIVE US THE MONEY, BITCH”!
“ I’m in the process of it right now,” Michael eyeballing the TV nervously.
“ IF WE DON’T GET OUR MONEY RIGHT NOW WERE GUNNA POP A CAP IN YOUR PUNK ASS”!
“ Look fellas, is there someway we can work this out?” you broken in trying to make peace.
“What is going on? All of you get out of my house right now. I don’t know any of you,” Nina pathetically busted in.
For that statement Nina lost her life. Instantaneously the leader pulled out his gun. The bullet went through her skull and came out the other side nicking your shoulder. Her entire face was just gone. Blown off. The blood slowly leaked from the hole that was once her head. The drippings formed a heart like shape on your stomach.
Something in you died in you at that moment. It felt like someone took large thin knives and stuck it into every point of your body at the same time. “This beautiful future must die. Death for no reason is murder. It’s sizzling blood”. You handed Michael $2,000 and they all left. The pain you felt was just too much for your body to handle. You left.
You walked around for a little then made my your to the train station. You got a one-way ticket to New York.
“Do you feel better now Georgie?”- His conscience stated feeling pretty damn proud of him self.
Georgie wrapped his hands around his unconscious self, killing what little was left inside of his blackest heart.