Soldiers of Mis-fortune.

Take a look at your life, a good look. Is it worth living? Or do you deserve to die?

Again I fell asleep to the bleak serenade of the nightly news. When I awoke I found a spec of dry drool on my right cheek besides that, nothing had changed. My stomach was rumbling as the reporter announced it was eight o�clock. My eyes scanned the floor in search of my cell phone while it glared back at me as if to say; �Nobody has called you, let me get some rest damnit.� I dusted myself off, put my New Era cap on and made my way toward the door.

The street was unusually quite even for a dead end. Friday night had apparently whisked everyone else except me out of their hum-drum routines and into a world of wonderment where anything is possible. Only in dreams are the possibilities endless as they seem. In real life, there�s always that glass ceiling. It taunts me from above in its eternal reign over my illusions. Usually the calm of a Friday night is a welcome relief to my weary mind but that night had a certain unsettling aura about it.

I doubled my steps in an effort to make my only appointment for that night. Mr. Zheng hates it so when I�m late. He says, rightly, that his food should only be consumed at �peak freshness�. My boots made an inaptly upbeat rhythm as they hit the concrete. The beat reminded me of better days when a basement was my den of liberty and the air was clouded with dense all-inspiring smoke. Now I find myself dreading Mondays because they mark a new chapter of glory-less servitude and grimacing at the thought of Fridays because of the mind-numbing, uneventful, two days that follow it. There has to be something more to this. There just has to be. Unfortunately, I doubt I�ll see the meaning in my lifetime.

I strolled into a sauna of ginger, soy and MSG. Immediately my mouth watered in anticipation of the banquet I had ordered ten minutes prior. �Hey Mr. Ronny! How are you boss?� I told him I was �hanging in there�, paid for my meal and left just as quickly as I came. I was in no mood to be lectured on the proper preparation of steamed vegetables, yet again. I started my return journey to my house so that I could calm the monster that was killing me after working overtime at regular pay with no lunch. As I approached the street a seemingly random bum whom I had never seen before called me over to him.

�How you doin� young man?� I found it unsettling to be called young man by someone who couldn�t have been more than four years my senior. He was dressed in a pair of urine stained shorts and cut from regular length jeans and a wifebeater. His breath was putrid with alcohol, vomit and whatever instantly ready 7-11 garbage the pennies he scrounged up could buy. �Spare some change?� He spoke in calm and slurred words yet in his eyes famine had made way for fury.

�Sorry, Don�t have none.� I replied. In all honesty I did have about $0.71 worth of change in my pocket, but I refused to contribute to someone else�s vices.

�You know, I used to be a star.�

�For real?� I asked in a too-sarcastic tone with a brows raised almost up to where my hairline began.

�Well, I could�ve been. Circumstance screwed me. Won�t you just help a soldier down on his luck?� As he pleaded with me his gaze stood fixed on mine, angrily scratching beneath the surface of my soul. When it was all said and done I still wondered what is was that he saw in my eyes. What happened? What happened will be but an insignificant drop in the vast ocean of questions with no answer.

I turned my back to him and as I walked away I said; �I�m sorry but I can�t contribute to you vices. Get a job.�

Once again my steps began to guide me down the solitary dead end of my street. The shadows of the trees engulfed me completely in a way they never had before. The street lights blinked in a symphony of their final performance. All I could think about in my narrow little head was parking my behind in front of the T.V. vegetating while I consumed my shrimp and broccoli. How could I recklessly waste so much time? I felt a cold hand grab my chin and an even colder blade touch my gullet. I recognized the stench and I felt no need to ask who it was. Not for a second did the thought that it was just one of my friends playing a sick joke on me cross my mind. I knew he was dead serious when he said it; �Don�t move or I�ll end you right now.�

Garlic sauce splattered against the concrete as the bag of food succumbed to gravity and my grip succumbed to fear. I felt his hand reach into my pockets to pull out my wallet while his left hand still held the knife to my throat. Next thing I heard him say was; �Ten dollars? Do you realize what you�re about to make me do for ten dollars?!� A solitary tear treaded down my cheek and made contact with his bare arm. �Don�t cry, I�m the one that should be crying. You have no idea.� Not one Good Samaritan took time away from their reality shows to change my destiny. Not a single patrol car was around to put a stop to the inevitable. All the county officers were too busy handing out traffic citations in order to meet their end of month quota.

I asked him why he�s doing why he�s doing. He asked me if I had ever killed a man before. He told me that he has. He asked me if I had any idea to have demons pulling on your ankles every time you lay your head. Did I have any idea what it was like to see death in my baby girl�s eyes? Of course I didn�t. If I did I would probably be numbing myself with fermented sugar cane too. I sure as hell wouldn�t want to return home either. And I understood that I had to die.

So much effort wasted trying to isolate myself from the world, loathing my situation when it was ultimately heaven in disguise. I had every opportunity to rise above the status quo and create something beautiful. I had every moment to tell those around me that I loved them yet I was too absorbed in myself. The knife moved through my neck with the precision a violinist performing the final bars of my life. My legs gave up first and my head hit concrete with an ultimate thump. In the distance I heard frantic footsteps running away with the contents of my bureaucratic life. The contents of my physical life emptied themselves on the concrete and made cyanide with the garlic sauce. I understood why I had to die now. I didn�t deserve the gift that was given to me; I didn�t give up my $0.71 to a man that deserved the comfort of the bed. I should have been the one sleeping on the floor like an animal not him.

I didn�t pray for forgiveness in my final prayer as so many do. No, instead I begged the Lord to let the oak tree speak the events that just unfolded to the world, not to gain justice that I did not deserve but to serve as a warning to the masses. My only hope for your death is that the grim reaper finds you out of your ignorant slumber.

Author's Note

Not really to happy with this. Then again, I have 90 what I write so my opinion is somewhat biased. Read it, comment. Be completely honest. How bad does this suck? Why does it suck?

Reviews

[Gideon Jacob]

Your descriptive abilities are absolutely fantastic my friend, it has to be said. There was lines in this piece that were just absolutely fantastic in my opinion and really ot you contemplating certain things. I'm the kinda guy that never gives change to a bum but you've seriously made me think twice about that. A very hard hitting piece with some great reflections on what we do in life and on what modern society has become these days.
There were one or two grammatical mistakes but nothing major, just merely the odd oversight here and there. It did feel a bit like you could have made a wider use of the comma though as sometimes the sentences could have done with breaking up.
Hopefully that doesn't seem overly critical though as, truth be told, I seriously enjoyed reading this and i think it is a very well written and thought out piece of writing. Well done!

[Hawksmoor]

Oh, one more thing.

Why aren't you happy with this? Any specific reason?

My bro.

Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.

[Hawksmoor]

This is me, being as critical as I can be of a great piece of work.

Was "Again I fell asleep to the bleak serenade of the nightly news. When I awoke I found a spec of dry drool on my right cheek besides that, nothing had changed." supposed to be "Again I fell asleep to the bleak serenade of the nightly news. When I awoke I found a spec of dry drool on my right cheek. Besides that, nothing had changed."?

He was dressed in a pair of urine stained shorts and cut from regular length jeans and a wifebeater.

He was dressed in a pair of urine stained shorts cut from regular length jeans and a wifebeater�.is that what you meant to write?

Was "I'm sorry but I can't contribute to you vices. Get a job." supposed to be "I'm sorry but I can't contribute to your vices. Get a job."?

He asked me if I had any idea what it was like to have demons pulling on your ankles every time you lay your head�.I'm assuming that that's what this was supposed to be.

So much effort wasted trying to isolate myself from the world, loathing my situation when it was ultimately heaven in disguise�.man; this is a beautiful line, and one that is also all too common when it comes to a close scrutiny of the average life.

In the distance I heard frantic footsteps running away with the contents of my bureaucratic life.

S**T.

I should have been the one sleeping on the floor like an animal, not him.

See how petty I am? Fussing over a comma when I know for damn sure that I too often use too many commas. LOL.

Other than those things, which I searched for, (HARD) I only found one other thing.

The tense seems to alter itself at two or three points in the story. A thing easily enough fixed with a few glances. I've got a feeling that this broke out of your brain at breakneck speed. It's got the feral fervor of inspiration and shock.

Other than those simple things, (not to mention things pretentiously pointed out by a man who feels like an a*****e now) I saw nothing that stood out as something that could be bettered with a once over.

To me, this is a morality tale for the 21st Century.

"Do right by others and appreciate what you've got before you find yourself without the choice to do either."

There are areas in this where your words caused my breath to catch in my f****n throat, no joke, man. Your eloquence with words, especially when you're feeling a certain way, is astounding.

I had every opportunity to rise above the status quo and create something beautiful. I had every moment to tell those around me that I loved them yet I was too absorbed in myself�.

see, lines like this knock me the f**k out of my sometimes self assuredness when it comes to my skill at turning a phrase or making an honest statement in an everyday way that comes out of me with the force and passion of a speeding bull with froth on its muzzle. I see statements like this, worded like this, and I KNOW I've got a while to go before my s**t's as good as this.

An everyday life cut away by yet another everyday thing�human greed, callousness, and envy.

Sorrow's in there, too.

Well done, honestly. I'd say touch it up a bit, which, as you can see in the critique (my meager opinions, really) above, won't take much.

Keep on writing.

And keep on not giving a holyrolled f**k, too.

You've got It.

Hawksmoor�From The Bleed.