(no subject)
The screaming of the train was coming up fast. I couldn’t yet decipher in which direction it was coming in but I knew in a couple minutes the screaming was going to be unbearable. The horn would bow as to let anyone in the immediate area to clear away from the tracks.
The town in any direction was going to have tracks there was no way of escaping the scream. Some people went made hearing the whistle, some decided to leave the whistle and go out into the world actually caring about their future, and most that lived in my tiny city stayed and became either coal miners or train conductors.
When you are 16 years old and you spend your free time wondering the tracks and never seeing anything else you never wonder about anything, you never have dreams of getting out because you have never seen the outside world. You just know that thanks to your father you’re destined to work a hard life with no breaks along the way.
You rise each morning to the sound of the trains coming in, you crash at night after the last train has sounded, you even have the random trains calling you in the night but your to used to it that you don’t notice shit.
Sometimes I wonder why the hell I was put on this Earth, if it’s to fucking dig or drive a damn train then I could die now and nothing would happen. Everyone in this fucking town has the same thing going for them. They get up eat, go to work, slave and sweat just to get food on the table. But is that good enough? No you realize that after the first week that nothing is going to change. The same people will never leave unless they die, but you have to be luck.
But I have dreams of other things, I see myself going somewhere. I have books, I like to read. I spend all my time studying and studying just to get at least a 3.8. I want to get out of this fucking place. I need to prove to myself that I can get somewhere. I can be who I want to be, I’m willing to work as fucking hard as I can as long as, in forty years I’m not here with four kids and one bedroom.
I question myself every day. Is it really that important? Can I really do this? At night I cry myself to sleep, but I just wish no matter what I can have a future. I never ever want to be so poor that you have to send my only son to school with his father’s jacket that is three times the size; I never want to be so poor that I can’t afford to feed my son dinner for two days in a row.
The questions in my head make me think about the future I could have. I could have a running car, a nice house or at least a clean apartment with a running shower. Clothes that aren’t big for me. Shoes that aren’t small. I could have friends; I could have a wife or whatever.
I don’t miss anything because I never had anything. If I came close to having anything it would have to have been years ago. I had friends when I was younger but because of my luck they moved away, well it was more like he. I only really had one close friend when I was going in. We were practically inseparable, like brothers. But he moved away when his dad got a better job, while me and my father stayed behind. He is the only think I miss. While crying myself to sleep at night I often wonder where he is and what he is doing, how his life turned out and if he even remembers me.
“Joel get up, I want you to help me today.” My father’s voice rang through the one bedroom house. His voice was shaky, weak but he would never let any feeling slip. He was the only think Joel had, he wasn’t going to show that he couldn’t handle everything. “I need to go to work today son, could you come with and help out for a couple hours? You’ll get paid.”
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I rose from the coach, “Yeah sure dad anything I can do to help, do you want me to come right after school?” I headed into the kitchen and poured some milk in a cup. I had already showed that week so I just drank my milk and washed my cup.
“Yeah that will be fine son, after work we can come home and you can do your homework and I’ll find something for dinner.”
“that’s fine.” I shrugged and I put on my old worn boots and dad’s old jacket. I grabbed my book bag and started for school.
Walking to school every day wasn’t that bad, you got exercise but when you don’t eat three meals a day or at least one you can get very tired. School was about five miles from my house but when there’s nothing else I can afford, walking is my only alternative.
Right now in the weather that we have in Naperville you have to have a thick coat, but knowing the money that I have I couldn’t afford even a jacket form the Salvation Army. But I make do. I just wrap my dad’s jacket around me and hustle on to school.
“Student’s, class!” Mr. Thomas stopped trying to pull the whole class’s attention to the front of the classroom. “That’s better, we have a new student his name is Benjamin Madden.” The class seemed to look up for one second then continued on with what they were doing. “Mr. Madden please take the empty seat right next to Joel please.” With a quick navigation ‘Mr. Madden’ was at the table on my right.
I didn’t want to draw any attention to me; I pulled the pages of the book right in front of my face. I tried to hide in my book, “Students please turn to page 209 in you history books, please.” I turned to right to the new chapter.
I was skimming the page when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to my new neighbor, “Do you mind if I look on with you? I don’t have a book yet.”
“Oh yeah sure, it’s no problem.” I pulled my book over as so he could see it better. He in turn pulled his desk closer to mine.
“What is this chapter about? What have you already learned this year?” he looked down onto the page then back up to hear my response. “What? Is there something in my teeth?”
“No! sorry, you just look…familiar.” I looked down into my book. “We have already been through the immigration period, and it looks like we are going to Chinese immigration or the Gold Rush.”
“Huh, ok.”
Besides the few worlds that Benjamin and I shared class went pretty regularly, I talked to no one and in return no one talked to me. Class let out and lunch started. I put my books away and I headed into the lunchroom.
Entering the lunchroom I caught glances at some other kids, the ones that like to pick on the poor, make fun of the weird, tease the lonely. I get random notes in my locker that either makes me feel worse about my life or just makes fun of how I wish so desperately to a friend. These are the kids that I run from after school. That jump out at me at the train station, I look at those kids and I walk faster to the lunch line. I wait with the other kids then finally grab my lunch.
Walking out through the cafeteria I try to balance my tray and walk without any disturbance. I’m almost out when I see the captain of the football team coming in my direction. I try to get out of his way but when we meet he stops right in front of me, “Hey, what’s your name?”
“M…my n…name is Joel”
“Joel you want to join me for lunch?”
“Um…well…n…no” I look down I’m trying to be strong but I know that because I’m standing up for myself I’m going to bet tormented for a few more years.
“Really?” His voice rose, like he was shocked that his little trick didn’t work. “You kid have balls.” He stepped right into my face my tray of food becoming one with my chest. I always hated coming into this place. Every time that I would forget, I would always come back and realize what made that hatred.
I pulled the tray from my chest, I dropped it and ran. I ran to the farthest bathroom. I needed to clean my shirt and maybe cool down in a stall or something.
So far this day had been nothing out of the ordinary. I had talked to no one, got pizza on my shirt, I have to help my dad and I still have to do homework. I sometimes wonder how the hell I live through all this shit and still haven’t thought about suicide, is my future really worth all this? But this is just part of my day, I analyze everything. I hate this place so much the only thing that gets me by is complaining. I get so pissed that I just have to walk away, I don’t want to make my dad feel like shit but sometimes I can’t help it. I just can’t wait until this day is over.