As I drove down the sun-setting covered road, the quietness of my surrounding drowned me out into an abyss of nothing. Everything is meaningless, but your mind will make it have a meaning, because that is how our brains are programmed to be. They are, and were, designed to make a meaning for everything; weather is good, bad or carelessness of the object or subject, etc, because if not, we'd go insane.
The sun setting behind glared at me through the rear-view mirror. It stung with an annoying sensation of pain at the corner of my eye. Though it was beautiful to see, I never really understood why people didn't appreciate the world anymore. People were always destroying the world, and I know that there was nothing I could do to stop it, simply because where there is good, there is bad. It always has been that way since this world was inhabitable.
I entered the driveway of the apartments, where we lived at the time. It was a shabby place with a small swing set at the center o the courtyard that would sometimes flood with snow in the winter time. I parked and got out of my car, which was just a regular Mustang, then gloomily walked out the stairs to the door.
I slipped the key of my home, and turned it to unlock the door. I sighed before walking in. The sorrowful scent of cigarette smoke hung in the air, entering my lungs, causing me to cough ever so slightly. A few beer cans laid on the floor, along with papers, pill, and all a-sorted forms of drugged, prescribed for my mother's depression and anxiety.
Everything was a mess in here. I didn't like living in these horrible conditions. It all so filthy, but every time I tried to clean up, I got slapped across the face by mother s she screamed at me to never to do it again, because all the object were in their proper place. One reason I don't like having friends come over to my house to hang out.
As I lay on my bed staring at the roof, I wonder why my life was filled with so much cruel, heartless emotions that that keep on eating at me from the pit of my stomach, causing it to feel nauseous.
The phone rang, breaking my thoughts, as everything normally does. I sat up and answered it, right after putting the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, Timmy, it's me, Mom," the voice on the other side replied. "I'm sorry, I'm running late, Honey. There was an incident at the office and it needed to be taken care of."
"It's okay," I replied, softly. "When will you be home?"
"In a few hours. Timmy, just check that the doors are locked."
"Alright mom, bye. Love you."
"Love you too, Timmy. Goodbye."
I stood up and walked out the room, hanging up the phone, placing in on the charger dock. I got my coat and keys. Of course, I needed to go out and clear my head from some steam. I just needed away to relieve some stress from all of this.
I stood in from front of a wall, panting hard, with an aggravated, furious emotion fixed on my face. Sweat ran down my temples and covered face, cooling me down frown the mass amount of force afflicted on my body. Blood trickled down my knuckles of my right hand. The wall that stood splattered with the dark red blood, like the aftermath of a gunshot that pierces the interior of the human anatomy.
I stepped back and sat against the wall. The alley way wasn't the best place to chill out, but if was the only one I had. There was nowhere else I could have gone when I'm upset like this. No one would understand what I feel. It's too complicated for anyone to understand, and I'm not going to see some psychologist that will just put me on pills for his own benefit to rip my mother for her had earned cash.
I wondered what would happen if I leave this place. Will anyone even notice I was gone? Maybe just my mother, but I really doubt anyone else. Thoughts of solitude and despair ran through my head, as the tears ran through my mind. I wanted a way let the pain out, but punching a wall really isn't helping me let out any anger, or sorrow. It only made it worse. I still asked myself why do I continue doing it.
I pulled out a cigarette and lit up. The white smoke exited my lungs and out of my mouth to form a small loop. A deep urge for pain was at the tip of my fingers. I looked at my wrist, and forced the cigarette with a thrust into the forearm. The engraving stung like a red hot needle getting lunged into the nerves of your arm and tearing a part one at a time. I didn't scream, but just bit down on my lip until I tasted the ironed flavor of blood.
I pulled the cigarette off my arm and panted in agonizing pain. I did feel slightly better, but the fact that I had to burn the feelings out made me give off a sensation of sorrow. I lit up again and took a drag. Cigarettes always calm me down after I become upset, but I don't know what came over me when I burned myself.
What was I to do to overcome this phase in my life? I sure wasn't going to now psychologist to get put on some pills, so I needed a new way out, but what could it be. Maybe I can get into sports or something to distract my mind, but would I be any good at them. Or could I start seeing someone, but what if they don't like me, or think I'm an idiot if I start talking to much. I've noticed over my experiences, that there is always a catch to everything you do.
Standing up from my place on the ground, I dusted myself off and walked casually out of the alley way, with the cigarette in my hand. It was a small town, so most people would careless if I was smoking between them, unlike large cities that would obviously complain for even the sight of a cigarette even though they smoke themselves, but are to ashamed to admit it. Then again, most people in this country are a bunch of hypocrites.
As I sat in my car enjoying the radio's company, my cell phone rings with that classical piece composed my Mozart. I believe it to be Requiem. It was a lovely composition, quiet epic if you ask me. I picked up a few seconds of listening to the piece. "Hello?" I asked, noticing that it was my friend Ryan calling, most likely to see if I was doing anything so we can go hang out at the park or go to an underground bar.
"Hey, man, it's me Ryan," the voice replied.
"Of course, who else would it be, man," I replied sarcastically. I intended it to be a joke, not to take out my anger on Ryan.
"Sorry, man, I'm used to these cell phone's having Caller-ID. Anyway, how are you?" Ryan's voice was a rather simple one. It was smooth, unlike most people that have a rough voice. I guess that's what helped him get girls as if it were a piece of cake, other than the fact that he had a silver tongue.
"Been better, as usual. There's nothing new." I replied with no emotion.
"Hmm, well, you want to come over and hang out with Carry and me?"
"Sure, I have nothing better to do. Are there any tasks you want me to do before I go to your house?"
"Now, that you've mentioned it, can you pick up Carry from work?"
"I didn't know she had a job. When and where?"
"Right now, at the Rock Hard Cafe."
"Will she be expecting me coming for her?" I started the car, and put out the cigarette in the ash tray.
"Yeah, bro, I've already called her ahead of time." Ryan's expression sounded very please, but then again, he's always trying to get with Carry, but she doesn't seem interested in him, always being interested in me, though I don't see her like that. It's a kind of weird messed triangle.
"OK. I'll see you in the next half-hour at the most."
"Cool, man," Ryan replied, blissfully. "See you then." He hung up the phone before I could say goodbye. Not that it bothers me in any way; it's just that I thought it was rather rude.
"Goodbye," I said to myself. I drove unto the unfilled car highway. I'm surprised that there wasn't anyone driving at this time only being 9:30 pm. It was a Friday, and you would think that the party-going kids would be all over the streets.
Anyway, as I drove down 5th and stopped at the corner of Charles Street for the stop light, I took a drink of my drink, right after biting into a cheeseburger that I had bought before setting out to the alleyway. I hadn't eaten in a couple of days and I was starving, so I guess that dining in the car at this time wasn't a bad idea.
My burger tasted rather funky, like too much salt or some other spice was added to the meat, or something. I wasn't sure, but I'll have to pay attention to the road before I crash into something.
I was about few yards away from the Rock Hard Cafe, when my cell phone rings aloud once again, expecting that it was Ryan going to tell me where I was with Carry, but it was Carry who was calling this time. "Hello," I spoke into the microphone of the cell phone.
"Hey, where are you? I've been waiting ten minutes now," Carry's soft voice said, rather upset.
"I'm already outside. Get your things," I sighed, because of this generation's habit of being impatient.
As I unlocked the doors of my car for Carry, she walked out of the Cafe swinging her backpack around her shoulders. Her long red hair was in a ponytail. Carry opened the car door and got in. "Thanks for picking me, Hon'. She turned to me and grinned. Her green eyes met mine.
"No problem, just call me next time you want a ride," I replied, with a slight grin.
Carry and I aren't that close, but she's a friend and that's good enough for me to care enough to tell her to call me if she needed a ride, because the only one's a give a ride are the people that I care for. I didn't find her what you call a best friend, but at least I got along with her. Though sometimes it felt pretty awkward sitting with her in silence, we'd have a decent conversation about her day or about some random topic that would drift out of the blue.
"Thanks. I really appreciate it. I can give you money for gas if you'd like."
She was reaching into her bag, when I place my hand on her hand and replied. "It's ok. You're my friend. I don't have to charge you. I get money every week for gas. You don't have to give me any money."
"Really," Carry's eyes blazed up. "Thank you! Thank you!" She threw her arms around me. "You won't regret it."
"I hope not," I smiled. I liked getting hugs. It made me feel loved. "Now, let's get to Ryan's before he thinks we're doing something."
"Yeah, I know how Ryan gets." Carry pulled off her jacket and began to do her hair, using the mirror.
I never did understand why girls always have to be constantly grooming themselves. It's not she looked extremely horrible. Carry was really cute in the face, and had a nice body to go with it. Her face was all natural, if I may add. She hated make-up. The most she'd use it just eyeliner; and that's when we go out to fancy restaurants.
"So why do you have to get ready every time we go somewhere," I asked Carry trying not to sound rude.
"Well, Hon', I just like to look my best." Carry replied, adding volume to her hair by making it puff with the brush. I really don't have any idea what she's doing, but that's what it looked like she was doing.
"Oh. I thought you were always trying to impress random guys we sometime bump into." I teased gently.
"Well, I have my mind set on one boy, but he's really hard to impress," Carry winked at me. I saw it from the corner of my eye. I knew she was talking about me. I've read it before in the edges of her eyes, but when we ask her she always denies it, plus Ryan is always thinking it's him.
"And who may he be, if I may ask?"
"Well, Sweetheart, that's between me and me only." Carry's chuckled echoed through the music less car. I could feel her eyes borrowing holes into my skull, but I had to ignore it.
I saw Carry reach down and turn up the radio. Some random band from school was playing. They were a decent set of people, except that the fact they thought of them as the greatest band in town because they're like the only ones who play shows and all, but then again, they are really rich kids, so yeah; their parents can get them into anything they want.
"So what you doing this weekend," Carry asked after a few minutes had past.
"Most likely nothing," I replied. "Why do you ask?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out somewhere. You're always trapped inside your house. You need to get out more."
I turned at North 10th Street, before replying. "Maybe. I'm not sure what I'm doing." I honestly don't like to go out. Usually when I go out, there's always something that has to go wrong in the plans my friends and I make.
"Oh, come on, Timmy. What can you possibly be doing that's better than hanging out with your friends?" Carry's voice was become smoother as she spoke, but didn't mean it was going to work on me. I didn't have an excuse this time, so I was back up into a corner.
"Fine, we'll hang out, but what are we going to do?" By 'we', I meant Ryan, Carry and I.
"Well, we could go to the movies, just you and me. Or we can get Ryan and go to the park. I'm not sure. You know I'm not good with planning these kinds of things out." She laughed. "Come on, Timmy. Laugh a little. I haven't heard you laugh ever since the accident."
It was true; it had been a year since Dad died. I hadn't laughed in front of my friends ever since my father died in a fatal accident at his office, when some worker brought a propane tank for the cook out they were planning that night. Then he left in next to an exposed wire of a lamp. My father tripped over the propane tank and then I guess it exploded. I don't remember it that clearly. I refuse to allow that memory haunt my thoughts. That was the story that they all tell me, my mother the most. I didn't really understand how that could happen, but then again, things like that do happen randomly, at the most unexpected times.
"Sorry, Carry, I just can't anymore." I replied sullenly, as I turned into Ryan's neighborhood.
"I'm sure we can make you laugh again, Sweetheart." Carry placed her hand on my shoulder. "You had such a gorgeous laugh."
"Carry, do you mind if I ask you something?" I was curious to know why she called me 'Sweetheart' most of the time.
"Sure thing, Hon', anything you heart wants." The way her voice's expression gave off that certain sensation that made it seem she wanted me to ask her out.
"Why do you call me, Sweetheart, and Hon'?"
"Because I adore you, Timmy." Carry let out a cute giggle. "You should know by now." She ruffled my long black hair.
"It's pretty obvious. I noticed a long time ago. Since the day we met again last year at that party." I smiled.
"Really? Wow, was it that obvious?" I saw her blush.
"Well, not at first. It took me some time to figure it out." I chuckled slightly. I thought it was pretty cute that she didn't know that it was obvious that she liked me.
"Then why aren't we together?" That was a question I'd been meaning to ignore, because I didn't want to tell her that I didn't fell the way she felt towards me. I didn't want to hurt her feelings.
I needed to think of something fast. Something that wasn't a lie, but it didn't give me a reason to date her. I finally got hold of the timid bluff. "Well, I'm not ready for a relationship just yet. I'm still shaky about my father and I'm not sure I'm stable enough to do anything." I stopped in Ryan's drive way.
"Well, ok." Carry sounded a little disappointed. "But know that I'm here for you, Sweetheart." This was a statement I've heard a lot from my mother, except that Carry's was more comforting.
I looked at her. "Thanks Carry. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome," Carry exclaimed, leaning over and kissed me on the cheek. A soft touch of her lips was at the base of my second corner of my lips. It was warming, and gentle, like a morning's breeze in mid-April.
That took me by surprise. It was a bit of a shock for me, because that's never happened to me. It's something that came out of a movie. "What was that for?"
"For being so cute," Carry chuckled, ruffling my hair again. This was the most affectionate she's been with me. Usually, we're always arguing about something.
"Well, I think we should head inside. And isn't it a miracle that Ryan hasn't called," I added as I exited my car, locking it with the alarm.
"Yeah, I've noticed that too." Carry stood on the other side of the car.
I walked up to the red door if his suburban home and knocked on it. A few minutes past as Carry and I waited on Ryan's porch. His house was taken care of rather neatly. Even in the night, the lawn looked extremely well put together.
Ryan answered the door after a few more knocks, and unanswered phone calls that Carry took the liberty of putting into action without me having to ask her to do so. His hair was all messy and wet. The light brown gleamed off his short hair. "Damn, can't you guys give me some time to shower," Ryan exclaimed, slightly upset. That's when I realized that he didn't have a shirt, and that he wasn't in that good of shape that he always claims to be in.
"I didn't know, man, but get a shirt on, bro. I don't want to see you without a shirt." I replied, after walking into Ryan's house.
"Right," Ryan said, cockily.
"Get a shirt on, damn it!" Carry exclaimed angrily, tossing him a shirt.
"Fine," Ryan replied. "Dang, crybabies."
"We're not crybabies; we just don't want to see you without a shirt." Carry said this.
We followed Ryan to his room upstairs as he put on his shirt. His house was a decent sight for sore eyes. There were pictures of his family, happily about, portraits of paintings that brought joy and comfort. We all entered Ryan's room after some more thoughts of his beautiful house.
Of course, I didn't sit down automatically and began playing video games as we'd normally do, but, instead, asked. "So what are the plans for tonight?"
"Now that's a first," Ryan smiled. "About time you ask that."
"Well, no one said anything, so I thought it was appropriate for the situation." I replied this in a tone of carelessness.
"Honestly, I thought we were going to stay in tonight," Carry replied gently. "Maybe watch a movie, or something."
I sat on the chair next to his desk and suggested. "Why don't we go to the Road? I'm pretty sure there's something happening tonight."
"I'm up for it, but are you?" Ryan replied, and asking Carry teasingly.
"Of course," Carry replied, offended. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You never know," Ryan laughed, knowing that he made Carry more upset than she already was from seeing him without a shirt.
I watched them argue. It drove me more into my sorrow that I was already in. Though I didn't show it, I can feel in creep up from the pits of my throat, and shoot all over my veins.
"Don't you guys ever stop fighting for the most ignorant reason?" I asked this with no emotion, no tone. Ryan and Carry stopped from their quarrel and started at me in shock.
"What?" Carry asked, confusedly.
I stood. "Let's go. If you all are going to come with me, follow, or just stay here in argument." I nodded towards the door. My left lower eye lid twitched.
"Dude, calm down, it was just playful manner," Ryan soothingly replied, making eye contact with me. "And we're going."
"Sorry," I heard Carry muttered. "Hon', you want us to stop fighting, that's okay with me."
"It's whatever to me. You all know I don't feel shit," I replied blankly.
"Timmy, are you ok, hon'?" Carry's sounded concerned.
My eyes shot towards her. "No. Now let's go." I walked out the door, down the stairs and out the door.
Ryan and Carry followed me down the stairs a few minutes later. Their faces were filled with concern. I could just feel it as they glanced at the back of my head, and whispered so soundly on the subject that I had just snapped at them. I mean, how was I not to do so? I simply hated the way they always fought with each other, mainly because Ryan wants a quick fuck out of Carry. The one who looked the most worried was Carry. I looked at them blankly. "Sorry," I said after we had gotten into the car.
Carry was sitting on my right side in the passenger seat. "It's ok, Sweetheart. I know you've been dealing with us argue for a long time now."
"Yeah, man," Ryan patted my shoulder. "We understand, bro, but just don't snap at us like that again. I thought you were going to stab us or something of that matter."
"Don't worry; I won't hurt you guys at all. You're my friends." I replied, starting the car, and exiting the driveway. I didn't intend to say that in the way I worded it. It sounded as if I would kill, the expressionless tone of voice, but not them, not them, they were my friends.
I sat there wondering what they thought of me for that moment. I hoped it wasn't anything sinister.
"You all want to go to the movies? I'm pretty sure there's something new on this week." Ryan's suggestion rang through my head, but I didn't want to snap at any of them. They were my only friends for Christ's sake. People that were always there for me, and helped me out whenever I needed them; those to me were real friends, not those lame people that were at parties getting extremely drunk, and asking you for money to go buy beer. They're just there to take your money and leave you for dead when you over dose. Trust me, I've been there before and I'm not going there again.
"Sure, I'm up for it," I replied with a grin, but I doubt that Ryan noticed it, because he was sitting in the back seat. "And you, Carry?"
"Yeah, as long as I'm with you guys," Carry giggled.
"Awesome," I exclaimed.
"Let's stop by the Road though. I want to pick someone up," Ryan added his reason for wanting to go to the Road.
"Fine, but you'd better call someone fast."
"I already texted her. We're picking up Drea (the name was pronounced Dray-ah, if you're wondering.)" That name was a curse to me, because that girl was a major pain in the ass. Excuse my language.