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- 11/18/2011
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
A Life So Hard - 2. Chapter 2
“Please! No!” I screamed, bolting awake.
Groaning, I realized that I was at home and that it had all been a dream. I turned over to try to go back to sleep. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and my breathing was heavy. I started to feel the pain in my lungs as I desperately willed myself to calm down. I started counting doubles to distract myself and relax.
“2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, 1024, 2048, 4096, 8192...”
After a few moments of this, I started feeling my heart rate slowing down, and my breathing became more regular. I looked at the clock and saw the red glow of my alarm: 4:12 AM. “Goddamnit,” I mumbled to myself. “Middle of the freakin’ night.” With a sigh, I got up and reached for my luggage. I zipped open one of the front pockets and pulled out a bottle, sat back down on the bed, and popped two pills in my mouth, tucking them under my tongue. I lied back down and relaxed while the medication dissolved in my mouth. It wouldn’t kick in for another thirty minutes so, so I lied there and thought about everything...
I was nervous about starting at a new school, especially in my final year. In all likelihood everyone will already haven known each other, since they all grew up together. And I’ll be a loner...the weird Canadian kid...the novelty new kid. Everyone will want to hang out with me for like... a week. Then they’ll realize I’m not all that special or great, and they’ll lose interest and kick me to the curb.
Well, I won’t let them do that to me, I thought. That’s the last thing I need. I’ll just put my head down, and bulldoze through the year. Just focus on school and shit, and not talk to anyone.
With that new bit of resolve, I felt myself drifting into a daze as exhaustion began to weigh me down. With a yawn, I rolled over and went fell asleep.
I woke with a start from my dreamless sleep. I don’t dream often, but when I do, they tend to be... messed up, to put it lightly. The last dream I remember having before last night, I was a hooker in Wisconsin trying to put myself through synchronized swimming school. With a grunt, I got out of bed and walked over to my dresser. I searched through my top drawer for a fresh pair of underwear and put them on, followed by a clean shirt and pants. Then, still half asleep, I began to make my way downstairs. When I looked at the oven clock I saw it was only 8:30 AM. Damn, I forgot to read the alarm when I woke up.
“Good morning!” Elizabeth said to me, far to cheery for my liking.
“Not a morning person, are you?” She asked me, teasingly, with a huge smile on her face
“Well, sit down and we’ll get you all fixed up for the day.” She said, and motioned for me to sit down at the counter on one of the stools.
With a groan, I slumped and rested my head on the cool marble surface. I was beginning to drift off to sleep again when I felt Elizabeth tap me on the head and I heard a bowl of cereal drop down in front of me.
Jumping up, I began to slowly eat the frosted flakes that Elizabeth had put in front of me. The cold milk woke me up more, and the previous nights events rushed back into my mind. I started to choke a bit as I remembered Elizabeth’s conversation on the phone and my dream.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Elizabeth asked, looking concerned.
“Just dandy.” I said back, trying not to let my true emotions show.
“Okay, my dear.” She said, as she moved past me and gave my hair a good ruffle. “I’m off to run some errands, and your dad will be in the office downstairs all day, okay? Do you need anything?”
“No thanks, I’m good.” I said, as I kept eating, and trying not to look at her.
I heard her putting on her shoes and closing the door, I walked into the living room, flopped down on one of the comfy chairs and wondered what I should do today. Absentmindedly, I turned on the TV. It was on CNN. They were showing a documentary/exposé about “clinics” in the Southern US that would “convert” so called confused, deviant homosexual children into law-abiding, straight children that were “saved” and put back on the path to Heaven. The reporter was explaining that they’d force the kids to into straight relationships and would torture them by not feeding them and stuff if they “relapsed”.
Watching this made me feel uncomfortable so I flipped through the different channels. Can you believe it? With over 200 channels, there was absolutely nothing on T.V. I turned it off, got off the couch, and wandered around the house instead. Going upstairs, I went into my room and looked out the window. It’s kind of hard to explain the layout of the upstairs, but my window pointed out to the front of the house. Facing the house, my window was on the right, and my bathroom was on the left. Elizabeth’s room was on the corner, behind mine, and she had a window in her room showing the backyard. She had a bathroom as well, and that window showed the side of the house. Dad’s bedroom, the master, had a full en-suite bathroom with a window pointing to the backyard and a massive window in his room showing the other side of the house. After poking into each of their rooms for a look around, (dad’s was the biggest, and mine is bigger than Elizabeth’s, but not by too much), I went back downstairs.
Off the kitchen was stairs leading to the basement, which was designed around the stairs, since they were in the middle. Directly across from the stairs was the “cold room”, which was were our freezer and stuff was. To the right of the stairs was the bathroom, and if you kept going in that direction, you’d see a pair of nice french doors. Those lead to dad’s office, where he was working today. I’d probably say hi to him in a bit. To the left of the stairs was a small alcove, where dad had started to build a bar. The basics were there, but it wasn’t sanded or stained or anything. If you kept going, you’d loop around to the downstairs living room, with our flat screen TV.
Sitting on the couches, you could see the doors to my dad’s office. Kinda weird, now that I think about it, but it’s like this entire house was designed around the stairs.
I flopped down on the couch downstairs and grabbed the remote to turn on the flat screen TV. It was massive, like 42 inches or more. It was mounted on the wall, like a picture frame and it was perfectly positioned; not too far or high. I started to flick through channels again when I remembered that I had been doing the exact same thing five minutes ago.
“Wow this is boring,” I said aloud.
I remembered that dad took the old Nintendo 64 with him when he shipped most of the stuff here at the beginning of the summer. That’s one of the big reasons, and causes, of me having such a torturous summer. See, I’m a huge Ocarina of Time fiend. I can’t get enough of the game. I’ve beaten it dozens of times. It’s gotten to the point where I can sit down and beat the entire game in about six hours or so.
Excitedly, I jumped off the couch and flicked on the Nintendo 64, I guess dad hooked it up in anticipation. I watched excitedly as the prelude began. As Link and Epona rode across the screen, I heard the door open to dad’s office.
“Ah, found the game, did ‘ya?” he asked, teasing me. “It took you longer than I thought.”
He stepped out of his office and sat down on the couch beside me.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked me.
“Oh, well. I’m not really sure yet.” I replied.
“How about,” he said, looking me in the eyes, “you hop into your car, and go to the mall that’s nearby -- it’s called Three Oaks Mall, so pop that into the GPS to find your way. It’s not far.”
“Okay, I think I’ll do that. Thanks dad!” I said and hopped off the couch.
He shook his head and went back into his office. I sprinted up the stairs, all the way to my room. I collapsed onto my bed, completely out of breath. I reminded myself I needed to be more careful about physical exertion as I lay there on my bed. After a few minutes I caught my breath and the pain subsided.
I stood up and looked in my closet, to see what I had to wear. I decided on a pair of skinny jeans and threw them on the bed. I had a bunch of sweaters (it gets cold in Canada) so I had to flick past those to see what small short sleeved shirts I had. I settled on a light blue button-up with various shades of blue stripes running down the shirt, which complemented my skinny body. After grabbing a towel from the closet, I showered, brushed my teeth, made my dirty blond hair all pretty. My blue eyes had a certain sparkle in them today, which made me smile.
Finally, with the last sock on my foot, I was ready to head out the door. Sitting in the car, my car was such a beautiful feeling. When I turned the key and heard the engine roar to life, it sent a shiver down my spine. I inputted “3 Oaks Mall” into the GPS, and with the location set, I pulled out of the driveway with a big smile on my face.
It was a relatively short drive. I cruised for about 10 minutes before I saw the mall. It was a pretty large mall, I guess the only one in the area. Luckily, what I’ve heard about parking in California wasn’t too bad here. I found a parking spot without issue, and walked in.
The mall was exceptionally busy (it’s the Saturday before school starts after all) which made me a little uncomfortable. The mall was big, but the halls were still packed. The ceiling was lower then most malls, you could almost jump up and touch the ceiling, almost.
I wandered around for a while, not really knowing where I was going or really interested in anything in particular. I wandered into a bunch of clothing stores, and even bought a few pairs of jeans and shirts. A long time ago dad had given me a credit card that I was authorized to use, basically to buy shit when I wanted. Basically, he was buying my love and forgiveness; but I don’t really use the card, so whatever.
Shopping wore me out, and by noon I was ready to eat. I remembered walking by the food court about an hour or so ago, and made my way in the general direction that I thought it was in. As I wandered around, half-aimlessly, I became increasingly aware of the steadily rising amount of people my age in the mall. At first, it was just the occasional teenager, desperately clutching a cup of Starbucks, looking like they’ve been up all night. But now, it was groups of them walking by, in swarms. Most would pass me by without a glance, so involved in their own little worlds that they didn’t even notice my existence.
A few times, though, the group passing me would notice me and realize I was alone. For some reason, they thought it was hilarious. I would hear laughing and jokes made about me. I was even pushed once. The situation was really beginning to get to me and I could feel the anxiety and panic building up inside of me. I needed to just get my food and sit down to relax. I looked around and realized I was nowhere near the food court, as far as I knew and I had no idea where I was going. I saw a group of guys standing off to the side, by the entrance of one of the big department stores. I started to walk over there and ask for directions to the food court, but stopped mid-stride half way there.
One of the guys in the group was really, really good looking. Like, holy shit. It blew my mind. The group saw me, and started laughing. Well, I said to myself, since I’m already this far, I might as well keep going.
“Hey, sorry to bother you guys. But.. err, where’s the food court? I’m kinda new here..” I asked, once I got to the group and kind of trailed off.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Well. See those service doors there? Just go through those, down the hall, and at the end of the hall, the other set of service doors lead to the food court.” Replied one of them.
“Oh, okay, cool. Thanks.” I said back, genuinely glad that the guy was actually nice to me, but a little disappointed that the mysterious brown haired beauty never said anything.
I started to walk away when a hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. I turned around and the mysterious beauty had grabbed me. “No. Don’t listen to this asshole. He was trying to send you off to the receiving area. You would’ve been arrested by mall security.” He explained, half smiling as if to apologize for his friend’s behavior.
“Ohh...” was all I managed to get out.
“Where you really want to go is down that hall and take your first right,” he continued. “Keep going and you can’t miss it.”
“Oh. Well, yeah. Thanks.” I almost whispered back, in the shyest way ever.
“No problem. See you around.” He smiled again, sending strange shivers down my spine.
I turned around and not with a little uncertainty about how to feel and what to do, I followed his directions. After several minutes of walking through the mall in a daze, only half aware of what I was doing and where I was going, I found myself in the food court. I ordered a slice of pizza and sat down.
It must of been close to a half hour later then I finally jerked myself back to reality and noticed my surroundings once again. The food court was now getting busier, and when I saw how many people were around me, I instantly felt my anxiety flare up.
Over the buzz of a hundred conversations I heard laughter. It was loud, obnoxious laughter and you could hear the mocking tone of it. Slowly I moved my head around, scanning the crowd, trying to locate the source of the laughter, more out of curiosity then anything else, I suppose.
After a moment or two, I located the source. It was a group of guys my age leaning up against one of the brick walls in the food court. They were looking in my direction and burst into laughter when I looked at them. This caused me to flinch, which caused them to laugh even louder.
It didn’t really bother me until I saw that he was in the crowd as well. He was so cute and I thought he was nice, too; I could feel my throat tighten and for the first time in years, I felt my emotions come to the surface and my eyes welled up.
I grabbed my bags and quickly made my way outside. As I pushed open the door and felt the fresh air rush over me, I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I looked over, and as soon as I could see what they were doing, I could feel and smell the smoke surround me. We were under an outdoor cover, I guess for the one time a year it rains. All of a sudden, it felt like I was surrounded by walls. I felt all the fresh, warm air being sucked out like it was being vacuumed out and replaced by the suffocating smoke of this person’s cigarette. I was struggling to breath when I rushed back to my car. I sat in the drivers seat and could feel the tears forcing their way out. I reluctantly let myself go and began to cry.
When I was finished I rested my head on the steering wheel and I must have closed my eyes and fallen asleep from the exhaustion of my emotional release. The next thing I knew, he was tapping on my window. I looked at with, the massive mark still on my face from where it was pressed into the steering wheel. I looked at him and unlocked the passenger side door. With a dazzling smile he got the hint and made his way around the car. He reached the passenger side door and opened it but didn’t sit down.
“I just wanted to apologize.” He said. “I feel really horrible for what my friends were doing.”
“You can sit down, if you want...” I said hesitantly, surprised at my own forwardness.
“Alright.” He replied, with a confident smile that managed to be warm at the same time.
He sat down beside me, and I immediately felt a little better about the whole thing.
“Have you been crying?” He asked me, a look of genuine concern on his face.
“No, of course not.” I quickly lied.
“You know, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he told me offhandedly. “Everyone cries.”
He looked at me and leaned closer. “Let me tell you a secret.” He said, looking into my eyes.
I didn’t say or do anything, so he leaned closer, his lips almost touching my ear. “Everyone cries, including me sometimes.” He whispered. Hearing his voice, especially so close to mine and almost being able to feel his lips touching me sent an uncontrollable shiver down my spine.
“Cold, are you? The only way you should be cold in California is if you came from the Equator. Where are you from, anyways?” He asked me, again with his warm smile that made it seem like he would never hurt me.
“Oh, no. Haha. I just got a shiver, you know? Like, someone was walking on my grave.” I explained, staring at the dashboard in front of me.
“Oh, I see.” He replied. I wasn’t looking at him, but I could hear the confusion in his voice. “You didn’t answer my second question.” He noted.
“My name is Andrew. I just moved here from Ontario with my dad. I’ll be going to Westwood Senior High School, starting Monday.” I told him, finally looking at him again.
“Oh, cool. I go there too.” He replied, with a big smile on his face.
“Cool.” That’s all I managed to spit out in reply.
“Well, I suppose I should tell you a little about myself, he continued, “I’m an only child. I live with my mom, I don’t know where my dad is. I’ve lived in California all my life. Oh, and my name is Brian.”
I froze. This can’t be true. Is fate really this cruel?
Mistaking my blank face for an invitation to continue, he asked me a few more questions. “Is it just you and your dad? Are your parents divorced? Are you an only child?”
I turned away from him and stared straight ahead. I was looking right through the windshield and past all the scenery. I’m just in complete shock.
“I gotta get home now. You should probably leave” I stammered blankly. All the emotions I had been feeling up to that point were gone. All the anxiety I felt from the mall incident and the incident outside was gone. The odd feelings Brian gave me which I can’t quite explain yet were gone. All those things were put back into the bottle, to be buried with everything else.
“But...” He said in disbelief.
“Did I stutter?” I asked him, with malice in my voice.
“No... Uh... Okay.” I could hear the hurt and confusion in his voice. I felt kind of bad, since this kid really hadn’t done anything wrong, but that guilt just made me feel worse and angrier. He slowly got out of the car and stood there with the door still open. My seat belt wasn’t on, so I was able to easily reach over and slam the door shut. I locked the door and fired up the engine. With a massive roar I switched gears and tore away. Brian stood there, in the parking spot with his mouth hanging open.
The drive home was a blur. I couldn’t even remember if I ran any stop signs or red lights. I grabbed my stuff from the backseat and stormed inside. I opened the front door and Elizabeth was waiting for me.
“Dinner will be ready soon.” She shouted to me.
“I’m not hungry.” I yelled back at her, with a little more force in my voice then I intended.
“Well, Mr. Grumpy, if you say so. I’ll leave it in the microwave for you when you’re ready.”
I didn’t reply with words, the only response Elizabeth received was my bedroom door slamming shut. I lay on my bed as everything finally hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt like someone was sitting on my chest and I couldn’t breath. I lay there, gasping for air, my lungs were burning. My eyes welled up from the pain, both emotional and physical. Slowly, as I regained mental control, I was pulled myself back together. Exhausted from my day, I threw off my clothes, got under the covers, curled up and fell asleep.
As always, right as I was drifting off, Rain jumped on my bed and curled up right beside me. She always slept with me and she was the only thing that could make me feel better. My guardian angel was here beside me, protecting me from the evil in the world.
I woke up at half past ten. The first thought in my head is that I’m messing up my sleep schedule. With a sigh, I shimmied out of bed, leaving Rain to stay curled up on my bed, asleep. With a yawn, I threw on pajama bottoms and a crappy t-shirt. As I opened my bedroom door, I heard muffled noises coming from Elizabeth’s room. I listened because I’m incredibly curious and nosy, but I made a mental note to myself that I really, really need to stop spying on her.
“How’d it go?”
“Wow. Really?”
“What did you say?”
“Wow.”
“...I don’t know.”
“No, don’t do that. You’ve been doing so well.”
“Calm down and get a good nights rest.”
“Okay, goodnight.”
She hung up the phone and I snuck downstairs, to avoid getting caught. Remembering what she said, I microwaved my mac and cheese for about a minute and started eating. Only when the bowl was half empty did a sudden and unexpected thought pop up in my head.
Maybe Elizabeth was talking about me on the phone? But that couldn’t be. She had barely known me for one day. I quickly dismissed this ridiculous thought, but it stayed in the back of my mind.
I stuck the empty bowl in the dishwasher, and, still awake and bored, I turned to the television to fill the void again. Before I knew it, the clock read 1 AM and I decided it was time to turn in. Even with the ridiculous amount of time I had already slept today, I did not have much trouble going to sleep. I guess the thought of having to go to a brand new school in a little over 24 hours can do that to you.
I woke up at ten surprisingly refreshed. I found this bizarre, considering the events of yesterday, but it was not entirely unusual for me. It’s kind of weird, but every morning when I wake up, it’s like I start with a clean slate. Unless someone did something ridiculous to severely piss me off, I wake up and my anger is gone.
I sat on my bed for a minute petting a purring Rain and thought about yesterday. I wasn’t mad at Brian because I knew he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not his fault that he asked all the wrong questions. He doesn’t know my history and I planned on keeping it that way. I’m not mad at him, I just hate him. He represents everything that’s gone wrong in my life. Everything bad. All the hurt and pain I’ve had to go through. It’s not his fault, but I still blame him. My problems aren’t tangible, aren’t “normal” or “accepted” in society’s standards, but he makes it tangible. He is the icon of my sorrow.
Today was a slow and relaxing day. Elizabeth made the entire breakfast spread. Coffee (not my thing), eggs, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, the works. My dad and I gorged ourselves happily.
I helped Elizabeth clean up, and when we were done we sat down and played a few games of Scrabble. She won a few and I won a few, so both of us left fairly satisfied. Neither of us had particularly hurt feelings and no one suffered from Overinflated Ego Syndrome. We both agreed that we were worthy opponents and that we’d “do it again, soon.”
Dad had work to do as usual, so he spent his day in his office. I’m used to it, so it didn’t particularly bother me. But, I did feel a little tug about it, because he did promise me he’d do better. Oh well.
I spent the day puttering around. I put away the clothes I bought and got my school bag ready for tomorrow. I watched some television and played some Zelda. I was right in the middle of the Spirit Temple when dad’s office door opened. I paused it and watched as he sat beside me on the couch. I adjusted my position so I was facing him.
“I was just off the phone with the school. I faxed them a doctor's note and you’re excused from Gym. The school board here requires that you still participate in some capacity, so you’ll be helping the gym teacher in whatever way you can, to a reasonable extent.” He explained.
“Alright. Good. Thank you.” I said back to him, clearly with a sense of relief in my voice.
“Here’s a copy of the doctors note and a letter from the school’s principal excusing you. He said he’d talk to your teacher about the situation, but I think it’s best for you to have a copy in case things get lost in the red tape.”
“Okay, thank you.” I said to him, as he handed me the paperwork.
He went back into his office and closed the door. With a small sigh, I scanned through the paperwork to see exactly what it was. There was a note from the doctor my dad got at the beginning of the summer when he arrived here. The doctor wrote a bland note in almost illegible doctor-speak explaining my medical condition.
Thankfully he didn’t go into much detail. I’m sure he didn’t even know that much, if anything at all. The school board’s reply was even more bland. Obviously a pre-written, formatted reply.
While shuffling through the papers, I noticed my school schedule was included in there as well. I read it over for the first time and gave it an approving nod.
“Dinner!” I heard Elizabeth yell to both of us from the top of the stairs.
“Coming.” I hollered back and made my way upstairs.
Before going upstairs to the kitchen, I put all the paperwork in my room. After washing my hands (like a good boy) I sat at the table and prepared myself for the Elizabeth’s next feast. She’s really very good at this, I thought as I saw the delicious spread.
After having probably the best dinner ever, I retired to the living room with dad and Elizabeth in tow to relax. Hours flew by, and before I knew it, dad was ushering me up to bed, telling me to get a move on so I wouldn’t be late for my first day.
I took a shower, and got ready for bed. An eternity later, I was lying in bed, with Rain lying beside me, ready for sleep. By the time my head touched the pillow, I was sound asleep, my last waking thought was hoping that I was prepared for what lay ahead.
-
6
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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