(no subject)
Fumbling around the ruins of yesterday’s trash (Twinkies and candy wrappers I suppose), the monster found an outlet for his silent rage. A Keyboard. A desire. The desire to put all that was wrong right again… no, that can not be done. Backspace key goes a “click click click” and here we go… the desire to finally speak the truth…. Backspace goes a “click click click” and here we go… a desire to tell a story. Period. Spacebar. Enter.
Blinking only occasionally, the monster glares at his horrid hands. How should I begin, he asks himself. So he types…
A man.
Backspace key goes a “click click click.” And here we go…
A boy.
The monster frowns, but later gives a half smile. He thinks to himself, well, isn’t that the beginning? The monster begins to type his story…
A boy with bright eyes and slightly irregular point of view jumped his way onto the porch of the house across the street from his own. He knocks on the door and squirms as he stands waiting for his neighborhood friend to reply. That’s me, before I attempted to grow up and become who I am not.
“come out and play!” We would say. And we would, play all day after we finished school. Just run the neighborhood, screaming like its normal. We’d head to the elementary school and jump on the roof until people would yell at us or until we were hungry.
Even as years go by I wouldn’t feel like I was growing up, having birthdays and all, birthday parties were the coolest. Presents like super soakers and GI Joe’s would enough to satisfy my every need. Every birthday someone would ask “So, do you feel older?”
And I would say no, feels the same.
There was this one time though I felt older. I caught my sister, in a flood of tears after an argument with my mom, attempting to run away once our parents had gone. She had told me that she wanted to runaway and I was young, so that scared me. I thought she’d be on the road and some guy would come and kill her. I thought because of this argument, I would lose my sister. I told her to please stay, for me, because I love her. She said ok, she’d stay. But I went to her room a little later, and her window was open, screen popped out and my sister was gone. I screamed. I screamed my lungs out, and I drowned in a flood of my own tears. This was my family falling apart and I was powerless. So I screamed. It wasn’t until I saw her coming in the front door with two duffle bags in the next few seconds did I stop. She said “well, I can’t leave with you screaming like that.” So she stayed, never tried to run away again. She would later get married, have a kid, and then, in the middle of the night, grab her son and leave her husband.
That day I felt myself grow up, I felt feelings I had never felt before when I saw my sister had left me. The seconds that I sat screaming by myself, I was forced to grow up just a little bit faster.
And then, on another day, maybe it was spring, sometime near my birthday, I grew up again. Before I could go out and play with my neighborhood friend, my parents sat me down.
“Do you remember that time you went to the doctor and they took blood?” My mom would ask. I would nod my head and she went on. She said that my dad, the one she had devoiced a long time ago, asked for it to be done, the blood test. My step dad sat and didn’t say anything really. That’s when my mom said my dad wasn’t my dad. It took me a second to realize what she meant. Someone else was my dad, so I asked who. Who was my dad? She said she didn’t know. She just… cant remember. We all kinda sat silently. I said, do you think I’ll find him someday? Knowing that we had no name, no number, no chance of ever figuring out who her one-night drunkin fuck-pal was, She said “maybe… maybe someday.” We sat silently some more, then I asked, can I go out and play? The said I could, so I went out alone, on top of the elementary school silently.
Someone came by and told me to get off the roof.
I ignored him, and they said get off the roof right now, this instant or they would tell my parents.
I screamed at the top of my lungs for the man to leave me alone, and then I entered adolescence…
Blinking only occasionally, the monster glares at his horrid hands. How should I begin, he asks himself. So he types…
A man.
Backspace key goes a “click click click.” And here we go…
A boy.
The monster frowns, but later gives a half smile. He thinks to himself, well, isn’t that the beginning? The monster begins to type his story…
A boy with bright eyes and slightly irregular point of view jumped his way onto the porch of the house across the street from his own. He knocks on the door and squirms as he stands waiting for his neighborhood friend to reply. That’s me, before I attempted to grow up and become who I am not.
“come out and play!” We would say. And we would, play all day after we finished school. Just run the neighborhood, screaming like its normal. We’d head to the elementary school and jump on the roof until people would yell at us or until we were hungry.
Even as years go by I wouldn’t feel like I was growing up, having birthdays and all, birthday parties were the coolest. Presents like super soakers and GI Joe’s would enough to satisfy my every need. Every birthday someone would ask “So, do you feel older?”
And I would say no, feels the same.
There was this one time though I felt older. I caught my sister, in a flood of tears after an argument with my mom, attempting to run away once our parents had gone. She had told me that she wanted to runaway and I was young, so that scared me. I thought she’d be on the road and some guy would come and kill her. I thought because of this argument, I would lose my sister. I told her to please stay, for me, because I love her. She said ok, she’d stay. But I went to her room a little later, and her window was open, screen popped out and my sister was gone. I screamed. I screamed my lungs out, and I drowned in a flood of my own tears. This was my family falling apart and I was powerless. So I screamed. It wasn’t until I saw her coming in the front door with two duffle bags in the next few seconds did I stop. She said “well, I can’t leave with you screaming like that.” So she stayed, never tried to run away again. She would later get married, have a kid, and then, in the middle of the night, grab her son and leave her husband.
That day I felt myself grow up, I felt feelings I had never felt before when I saw my sister had left me. The seconds that I sat screaming by myself, I was forced to grow up just a little bit faster.
And then, on another day, maybe it was spring, sometime near my birthday, I grew up again. Before I could go out and play with my neighborhood friend, my parents sat me down.
“Do you remember that time you went to the doctor and they took blood?” My mom would ask. I would nod my head and she went on. She said that my dad, the one she had devoiced a long time ago, asked for it to be done, the blood test. My step dad sat and didn’t say anything really. That’s when my mom said my dad wasn’t my dad. It took me a second to realize what she meant. Someone else was my dad, so I asked who. Who was my dad? She said she didn’t know. She just… cant remember. We all kinda sat silently. I said, do you think I’ll find him someday? Knowing that we had no name, no number, no chance of ever figuring out who her one-night drunkin fuck-pal was, She said “maybe… maybe someday.” We sat silently some more, then I asked, can I go out and play? The said I could, so I went out alone, on top of the elementary school silently.
Someone came by and told me to get off the roof.
I ignored him, and they said get off the roof right now, this instant or they would tell my parents.
I screamed at the top of my lungs for the man to leave me alone, and then I entered adolescence…