American Tragedy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
A little excerpt from a tome I'm working on. I hope you guys enjoy, if you do leave a comment if not to hell with you.

Submitted: October 22, 2016

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Submitted: October 22, 2016

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~Chapter one~

I never really felt like i belonged, but then again what defines belonging. How much the people around you like you, or how much you like the people around you. Maybe it doesn't have to do with liking anybody or anything in the first place.

California is a beautiful place, filled with beautiful sights, beautiful people, and beautiful ideas. It's a place where dreams can become a reality on the hollywood boulevard, or even the streets of the prestigios silicon valley. Then again i may be a little biased considering it's the only place i've ever lived. Raised from small city to small city, seeing fields turned into housing tracts, and families quickly following into this western idea of Adulthood.

I find it funny how us suburban californians think that that new two story house will keep their family happy for years to come, that the shiny new automobile will take them on countless family vacations while singing cumbuyah, that that new boat they plan on taking to the lake the following weekend will somehow coax them out of the idea that maybe their life isn't so great after all. What a load of bullshit i always thought to myself as my neighbor's half hearted wave, and indignant gaze beamed through me, while i passed by.

While i did loath the suburbs, it was always a place that i found a lot of comfort in, mostly because the kids who only knew the suburbs felt captivated by someone who was an outsider to their culture. You see i was a suburban boy, but i didn't spend my time shielded by my city limits. While other kids spent the nights talking with their family i spent mine doing things a kid should only joke about at such an age. While others were on a beach during warm summer nights i spent mine walking the streets with my cousins aloof to the possible dangers. Or maybe we were perfectly aware of the danger, maybe that's why we did it in the first place, to see if anybody would really minded our absence. I would be lying if i told you i didn't enjoy the fame brought to me by the stories i told my more innocent minded friends, that i didn't relish the attention i received for being more advanced at the usage of illegal substances. I felt like i was the king among kids, like every kid around me was stupefied by my presence. The fame did swell my head for quite a while, the local kids following in my footsteps, bad habits forming all around. That is until those kids stopped being kids, and became something much less interesting.

The thing about suburban adolescence is that, none of them enjoy the lives that they lead. None of them have anything interesting to say or dreams to convey. In high school all i ever heard was of how much we hate the suburbs, how far we will move, how sad we all are because our perfect sheltered lives. However i never saw any of those kids complain when they rolled up to school in their brand new mercedes, or when they showed up to prom in their 800 dollar outfit, or when they offered to pay for each other's food with their parents money. Never did i hear a complaint on how our school put the needs of college bound straight A students ahead of those who struggled for the same success, but god forbid that my senior class should have to follow school tradition and wear graduation gowns coordinated to gender, “I know let's make a petition”. It all seemed so pathetic to me, how translucent they all saw their world. Or the piteous ways they chose to cope with this so called pain with daddy's alcohol and mommys xanax, a real american tragedy is what it is.

I would be hypocrite if i didn't mention that a few times i felt as if the world ended when my schools nutrition services employee informed me that they were out of chocolate milk, and i would have to settle for white. But i was young and filled with rage from my family that will come to haunt me for years.


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