Hey all. It's me
again...you remember me? I know you've seen me around town; I'm that guy always
staring at the floor, kicking the little pebbles in my path just to entertain
myself. I'm the guy you saw lurking in the corner looking for the next someone
to ask me how I was doing. I'm the one you hear crying next door. Yeah, you
remember me now, right?
Ok, good! I was
hoping I was able to be remembered in some way, even though this isn't that
preferable. I've heard you chuckle to your friends about how “unsocial” I am.
Well, I'd just like to teach you how I grew to become this way.
It started many
years ago, long before I met any of you, or any of you knew who I was. Long
before life had placed its branding seal of pain on my life. Yes, this is long
ago, very long, long ago. Before everything went down, I was just like any
other happy and joyous child: clueless of life's cruelties, blind of the hate
pointed at competitors, and naïve of life's little tricks and games.
So let’s begin,
shall we? Very well:
This all started 18
years ago. I was 14 years old at the time, having strong aspirations to be a
Medical Doctor. I would go about my daily life, see my friends at school, shake
the teachers' hand and be on my way back home. I even went out with some of my
friends after school. We would wander everywhere and anywhere we could or
wanted.
I remember this one
time. My best friend, Laura, decided to wander out into the forest. She and I
had gone into the forest before, but we had always stuck to the trail, too
fearful to wander off of its distinct pathway. That changed when we tested the
waters on that late August evening.
As the path headed
left Laura had her wry smile on and slyly said, “Hey, let’s head out to the
lake.”
I replied, “But,
that takes us off the path, what if we can't find our way back?”
“Oh stop worryin'.
Where's your spirit of Adventure!? We'll be just fine, I promise,” argued Laura.
So I believed her,
in all my naivety. I told her I'd go. I agreed to get off the path and follow
into the dark forest…the chilled, dark, ominous August forest.
Ten minutes in, I
found I was enjoying myself very much, and it appeared she was enjoying herself
the same. After over an hour of this: climbing rocks, jumping streams, scaling
trees, and crawling over what some may consider small mountains, we finally
made it to the lake. Once we arrived we stripped down into our underwear and
hopped in. We swam and played for countless hours, until we heard someone off
in the distance.
There were houses
back in the woods, of course, but we were scrawny 14 year old kids. Any sound
when you are alone is scary as a kid. We scurried out of the water as fast as
possible, just like a mouse hiding from a cat. We both hid behind a rock next
to the lake, occasionally peeking out like a boy peeping into a room he's been
shut out of.
Oh we were curious
alright, and just as this climax came to an end, the sound we had heard peered
around the rock. Laura and I both shrieked in exact synchronization, and soon a
deep calmness came over us.
“Son! I've been
searching for you for hours! You had your mother and I worried sick, and here
you are half-naked with a girl in the forest lake? How inconsiderate can you
possibly be?!” exclaimed my father.
In an effort to
rationalize my actions and nerf the situation I relied, “Dad, I was only having
a little fun with my frien-”...
He would hear none
of it. He said we would wait for Laura's parents to make it and we would head
off. They arrived in a half hour and I was forced to give an un-felt and
unjustified apology. My father and I then headed off. He grabbed me by the back
of the neck and dragged me back to the house.
*****
When we got back
home, my mother was on the porch waiting. You could see her eyes were red from
extensive crying and worrying. I couldn't bear to look at her face; all it did
was cause an unending pit in my stomach. She ran and hugged me, quickly
followed by a smack to the face. I took it like a man would, no tears
shed...not a single drop.
She told me, “I
will always love you. There is absolutely nothing that can change that.”
I was sent to my
room, forbidden to come out except for school. I was taken off the buses, and
my mother decided to take time off her job to pick me up daily, to make SURE I
was going straight back home.
My father every
night told me, “Son, never go into the deep forests. It is dangerous, both by
the elements and by the people.”
I simply told him I
understood and shrugged off his advice and headed to bed. At night I would tell
myself how unreasonable they are being. How cruel these people are. I would
repeatedly say that I hated them, making sure it wasn't in their earshot. I
didn't mean any of it, but every teenager mistakes petty anger for hate.
This went on for
two months, with one more month in the punishment.
*****
I was curled up in
bed, trying to cure my boredom with sleep. It was working, until I heard this
tapping sound, then a cracking sound. It was Laura throwing rocks at my window.
At first I tried to ignore her, pretend I couldn't hear it. That proved
ineffective after the next 10 minutes of repeated taps and cracks.
I got up, and lifted
the window. Unlucky as I could be, a rock hit me square in the forehead. Laura
was unable to contain her laughter. We were both in tears, her from laughing
and I for getting pelted with rocks.
I asked her what
she wanted and she only gave a blank stare, as if she expected me to already
know. I told her I had no idea what I was supposed to do, and she just sighed
and gave a darting look toward the forest. She wanted to go back.
Hesitatingly, I
decided I would go. I told her to come back the next night and I would be
ready. So she left, and I walked back to my bed and got snug in the covers and
fell asleep.
At 9:00 A.M my
mother came into the room and woke me up. She said she needed me to help clean
the kitchen. Still tired from the interaction I had with Laura, I slowly
crawled out of bed and began to help clean. As I cleaned off the eggs my mother
had made earlier for her breakfast, I stumbled and dropped the pan.
My mother screamed
when the pot clashed on the floor, then proceeded to ask if I was ok. I nodded,
and started back to my cleaning.
“So, how did you
sleep son?” my mother asked.
“Fine, I
guess...I'm still a bit tired.”
“I was thinking,
y'know, about your punishment. I know I said two months, but I decided to let
you off a month early because you have behaved so well the recent weeks.”
This struck me near
speechless. All I could do was give a shaky “Thanks” to my mother, then
continue on with cleaning in silence.
*****
With my new
freedom, I decided to head out to see a new movie with my friend Jeremy. I had
wanted to see the movie for months, and was depressed that I was going to be
grounded while it was out. Now that I could go, I jumped at the opportunity.
When we arrived at
the theatre, Jeremy and I ran into Laura. She was going to see some chic-flick
with one of her friends, as usual. As we passed her by, she nudged me and asked
if we were still on for the night. I nodded back, and she gave a flirting wink
back at me and held her hand up like a 'W'. Jeremy wouldn't let it go for the
rest of the day. It was quite the irritant.
*****
Now near midnight,
I stood by my window watching for Laura. An hour passed. Nothing. Another hour.
Not a sound. Now another hour making 3 in the morning, still nothing. Finally,
about 20 minutes later she arrived.
I quickly, yet
silently, tip-toed through the house and out the back door and began circling
toward Laura.
I asked her what
took so long, and she just gave me a puzzled look.
“I told you 3
o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant
things.” sniped Laura.
“When would you
have told me the time? All you did was ask if we were still on, and then winked
at me and made a 'W' with your hand.”
“You idiot...why
would I make a W? I meant three. Like, one, two, three fingers, for 3 o'clock?
Make sense now?” giggling as she explained herself.
Embarrassed, all I
could utter is a humble “Oh”.
“Yeah, 'Oh' is
right. Now, are we goin' or not?”
“Of course we're
going. I'm not missing out on this; I've waited all day for this, not to
mention waiting the entire month to finally get out again.”
We headed into the
direction of the forest. We walked for about an hour, then came to the old lake
we were at just slightly over a month ago. We both got into our under-wear and
decided to swim. We played for hours on end, and then it finally came to a halt.
There was this loud
rustle next to the edge of the lake. It wasn't a bear, no, a bear would have
been too large. Wanting to show Laura how brave I was, I darted out of the
water to investigate. I walked over to the source of the noise and fumbled
through some brush looking for an animal of some sort. Nothing was to be found.
“See Laura, it's
nothi-”, just as I began to finish my sentence, a shriek from a Mountain Lion
silenced the entire forest. Nothing made a sound. For the next three seconds,
the only sound you could hear was that of your heart beating. Faster. And
faster. And faster until you knew it could not any more. The darkness was but a
small obstacle in my path as compared to what lied ahead.
I darted back to
the lake to grab Laura and rush back home. We had left our clothes behind on
the rock, and we ran. Oh boy we ran as fast as we could. We made it maybe about
halfway to the house when we could hear the Mountain Lion behind us. Chasing
us. Shrieking at every chance.
In a desperate
attempt to save ourselves, Laura and I climbed up this small tree to hide. We
slid out to a branch, and waited to see what would come. Ten minutes passed,
and the silence continued.
“I think it may
have-”, as I cut her sentence off to keep her silent. I saw it. This huge cat,
with fur so elegant. His eyes gleaming in the dark. He was so majestic; it was
so glorious and beautiful. But even beauty has danger. It had heard Laura, and
began to dart straight toward us.
It clawed at the
tree, but its paw seemed hurt so he was unable to climb the tree successfully.
He leaped up at the branch we were at, but kept missing by a few feet. We felt
we were safe, but the cat persisted. He jumped and jumped, and would never
stop. Then, in one jump he scraped the branch in between where Laura and I sat.
The branch snapped and she began to fall.
I grabbed her hand,
her screaming as loud as any has ever screamed. Blood curdled at the very sound
of it. She knew death was right at the door. The branch had cut my arms deep
into them, blood gushed out from it, but my pain was nothing compared to what
Laura experienced.
The lion continued
to claw at her. Scratching her legs bare. Blood poured from them unceasingly.
Tears streamed from her face from the terrible pain. Then one leg. SNAP! It had
been broken. But it did not end there. The branch had been weakened by
prolonged weight on it. The edge of the branch snapped leaving a jagged edge
where I was still holding Laura. It sliced my arm, as if it was even
recognizable as such. The muscle was exposed itself, and the bone had very
little protection left itself.
My hand, now
engorged with blood, had begun to lose its grip. I couldn't pull her up; I was nowhere
near strong enough. Her hand slowly slipped from mine, and then...
She fell. The
mountain Lion then tore her apart limb from limb, right in front of me. All I
could do is scream...horrifically. A body dismemberment, and I had a front row
seat of it being my best friend. Her face was beyond recognizable. Her skull had
been smashed so much that her hair was blood red.
Her hands were
gnawed off, and the flesh around the bone stripped. The worst part of it all, I
could hear her screaming while it happened. She screamed for help, and none was
there to give. This episode continued on until the lion finally smashed her
throat, silencing all sound other than his carnal monstrosity.
All I could to was
turn into the tree and cry. For hours upon hours I cried and wept over the loss
of my friend.
*****
As the day went on
and the sun protruded out above the trees, I could hear the faintest noise
calling for Laura. I screamed for their attention, but no reply was issued back
from them. I went louder and louder and still NOTHING! Then in the silence, I
heard their voice ask, “Who's there”.
“Over here, help
please!” I begged for them to hurry as
if it would do anything for Laura.
As they arrived
they saw me in the tree, and I saw their face. It was Laura's father. He had in
his hand a necklace for her, as it was her birthday next week and he would be
gone out of town for business.
When I saw him, my
body finally had given out. My eyes began to black out, and I could feel myself
slipping.
*****
The next morning, I
woke up in a hospital bed with an IV in my good arm. My room was empty for the
first few minutes, and then a nurse came in and asked what my parent's names
were. I told them, and the nurse said they would work on contacting them.
I begged her not to,
but the nurse insisted that the hospital is obligated to contact the parents if
they patient in question is a minor, which I was at the time.
In an hour the
nurse comes back in saying they got in contact with my parents and they would
be here momentarily.
Sure enough, 20
minutes later my mother came in with tears streaming, and my father with eyes
watering to the brim. They thanked “god” that I was alright...they said they
were glad I was safe...but if only they knew what I had seen, what I had gone
through. The last thing I was, was alright or safe. I had killed my very own
best friend.
It was my fault,
was it not? Had I said no to going to the forest, she would not have died. If I
had not gotten in the lake, she would still be here. Had I not wanted to
impress her by finding the source of the noise, she'd still be breathing. Had I
been strong enough to pull her back up, she would be laughing beside me now.
Had I not let her blood stained hand go, she would not have suffered at the
claws of that beast. It is my fault alone! I am to blame, am I not? Tell me
where I am wrong! TELL ME!
*****
Two years later, I
was still harboring this guilt and blame in my heart, I heard her screams every
night when I tried to sleep. I saw the claws of the mountain lion scrape at her
leg, and I could see my hand slip and let her go over and over again. Unending.
The incident had
rid me of the life I once had. The friends I knew, slowly left me as my cold
shoulder turned them away. My life became the epitome of anti-social. No one
was allowed in, not my teachers, not the two remaining friends I had, not even
my own mother.
My mother had the
worst of it all. Anything she said, whether it be mean or kind, I would
discount as the ramblings of a crazed lunatic. She said she loved me, and I
would simply remain silent and glare into the nearest corner trying to hold
back tears of my knowing that no one could love me.
But time pressed
on. My father soon grew restless of all my antics, so one night he left, and I
have yet to see him since. My mother mourned at this, but she didn't blame me
like my father did. She blamed herself.
The next few months
were the worst I have ever had in my lifetime. Every word I said was negative.
Anything positive I discounted through logic and reason. I concocted this world
view that love could not exist, and that everything was motivated by selfish
desire, no matter what the surface reason was.
My mother and I
would get into countless arguments. Every day, something new. One time it was
about the garbage, another time about religion, and again about chores...it was
unceasing.
Then something
broke inside of her. As if all that she had lost finally came into view and all
it took was just a single push for her to crack. And I was the catalyst.
She turned to me,
and looked straight into my eyes as serious as could be and said, “Son, I
despise you with all that I am. You are no longer my son, I disown you. Get out
of my home.”
Trying to brush it
off, “But mom I was only...”
“GET OUT!”
And I left. This
was the last thing I ever said to my mother. And those were the last words I
heard her say to me. I had harbored such hate and resentment over the death of
my friend that I had let it turn away the woman that promised me there was
nothing I could do that would make her stop loving me.
*****
Since I was kicked
out, I couldn't afford to eat and go to school, so I had to get a part-time
job. Without the high-school diploma or funds to get into college, I was never
admitted. The years went by, same job same place with very little change. My
dream of being a Medical Doctor was but a faded dream of a different life.
My manager hated
me, so I never rose from my position at work, but he never fired me because I
worked so efficiently. My co-workers didn't speak to me, but rather avoided me
in general. It is a lonesome life.
Now I am here
today, talking to you. Explaining my life story in some desperate attempt it
may teach you something or will simply make myself remembered.
So what is the
point of this story? Why bother telling it at all? It can't be anything
special, can it? If you are asking this, then you missed the entire point of
the story. Bitterness, hate, and guilt were stored inside of me. It was never
let go, never forgiven. It changed me. Caused me to grow callous and spiteful
toward everyone I see. There's little hope for me now, other than to warn you,
do not become me.
This is the pursuit
of misery, and I am at its end.
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