Introduction

Showing posts with label Introduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Introduction. Show all posts

Chapter 3.5 – Juice Box



Back outside, the strange metallic smell is replaced with a combination of garbage and laundry. We came out of the club in a fenced off area filled with vents and garbage bins. There’s not any landmarks and I can’t say for sure where we’re at but if I had to guess we’re about a block away from the club. We passed a strip mall with a laundromat on the way here. Why would there be a tunnel leading here.

“I told you, stop fucking following me,” The woman catches my attention as she yells out from the rooftops.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. I would have stopped if I had. I just wanted to talk, I thought you had cool sneakers. I didn’t know you were running from me, I thought you were chasing someone else, so I just followed along. I guess I was just being nosey. I had a joint today, and some drinks. I suppose I shouldn’t just be following random women. I’d probably remember that if I was sober. I’m not good at social situations so I hadn’t considered how odd it might be, terrorizing even, for a man to be chasing you. I’m really sorry about that,” I push as many words as I can through my exhausted lungs trying to explain myself.

“Please, just shut up,” she yells over me.

“Okay.”

The cold night air rushes past me before I spot two human-like streaks speeding into my vision and out in front of the woman. They come to a stop and it takes a moment before I realized they’re actually people. Two really pale men, identical haircuts, identical suits, the only difference being their faces and hair colors. One blonde, one silver, almost like they stepped out of some kind of anime. No, a comic book. The Flash could be real. This is insane. She doesn’t seem at all concerned about the speed they moved at. Is she some kind of meta too? Did I just stalk Wonder Woman? I hope I didn’t stalk Wonder Woman. The weed and alcohol can’t have hit me that hard. It should have worn off by now and I’ve been trying to chase her through tunnels. I stalked Wonder Woman. The only man to do that and survive was Batman. Am I Batman? Get it together, I am not Batman. Yet, I’m not Batman yet. This could be my origin story. Nope, straighten up, I need to straighten up.

I actually feel sick to my stomach as they stare each other down, almost like I want to pass out. I’m actually getting dizzy and feel the vomit making its way up my throat. They don’t look bothered by any of this and I’m on the verge of dropping to my knees or picking my favorite dumpster to throw up in. My head is pounding, and my ears are ringing. I feel like watching them is killing me.  

“I don’t have anything for you,” she tells the men.

“We didn’t ask you for anything,” Blonde responds to her.

“She’s got a guilty conscience. Maybe we should rip it out of her,” Silver responds.

“Are we doing this before the sun comes up? I know you guys have a curfew,” she asks.

“Your move bitch,” Blonde smiles.

“Fuck you,” she moves so fast she vanishes from my vision.

The three are moving so fast I can’t seem to keep up with them. The nausea only seems to have gotten worse since they’ve started fighting. I’m not even sure if punches and kicks are landing when I can see them being thrown; maybe they’re being dodged entirely. A few times it looks like a person is thrown but they’re back into the mix so quick I might be mistaken. She seems to be fighting both without any problem. Am I dreaming? People don’t move like this. This looks like some insane video game sequence. Soon they’re back in their starting positions. Plenty of scratches and torn clothing.

“We’ll finish this later,” Silver says, obviously looking worst of all.

“Tell your boss to kiss my ass,” she laughs.

“Destiny is a fitting name, because you can’t avoid it,” Blonde says with a smile.

The two rush off behind her, the same way they came, she doesn’t even watch. They pass by me in a blur again, slightly slower. Maybe they’re tired. Moving like a Super Saiyan must take a toll on you. I wouldn’t know. I turn to watch where they’re heading and they actually seem to run up the walls. What am I looking at? One turns around and seems to rush back at Destiny, I feel the same feeling as before. I know he’s about to do hurt her, and she won’t even see it coming. She can take it, I’ve seen her fight these guys two on one, but I feel like I have to do something. I know I can’t move faster than he is, and I probably can’t knock him over either.

I do the next best thing; I step in his line. He’s following the same path as before; he’s moving too fast to turn on a dime. I don’t care what he is. The air is knocked out of my body so quickly I don’t have a chance to scream. The vomit finally comes out mixed with blood in a puddle next to me on the concrete. The pain in chest tells me this is far from a dream as I start to vomit more. I can’t feel anything but pain shooting out in different directions from my abdomen. A quick touch lets me know the back of my head is bleeding. I have to have a concussion because I can’t seem to focus my vision, maybe I’m going blind.  

“The fuck is wrong with you juice box,” Blonde asks maybe smirking down at me.

Am I juice box? Why am I juice box? Even if I could get the words out, I wouldn’t get the chance to ask him. Destiny, if that is her name, uses her hand to run right through his neck. I close my eyes as droplets of blood fly towards me. The warm drops land on my face like a sticky rain. I hear the commotion of more fighting as my vision fades again. When I can focus Blonde is staring at me eyes wide gripping at his neck trying to stop the bleeding but the puddle of blood has already covered me. Up above Silver is fighting with Destiny and doesn’t look to be doing so well when he doesn’t have backup. It isn’t long before she’s taken him out as well.  

“Well, you’re one fucked up juice box. But I owe you one,” she pulls me up to my feet and wraps an arm around her neck. “I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to jump in front of him.”

“You’ve got nice shoes,” is all I can get out.

“Yours are pretty nice too, the blood adds to the value,” is she making a joke?

“Can you take me back to the club? My brother is there, and I don’t feel good. He’s younger than me, but acts like the big brother. I just let him, it’s the only time he’s responsible.”

“Back to the club, in this shape? No, we need to get you fixed up otherwise people are going to start asking questions.”

“You left bodies in the alley. There’s going to be questions.”

“If they don’t bleed out, the sun will finish them off. No bodies.”

“What?”

“Wow, you smell like a nerd but you’re so dumb.”

“What?”

Chapter 3.4 – Cool Shoes



“See anybody you like,” Elias leans over to ask me.

“I kind of like her over there,” I point to the pale but copper woman wearing sneakers in the club.

“Of course, she’s pale and has sneakers. You’re basically looking at yourself. Go talk to her,” Elias suggests.

“What do I say?”

“Compliment her shoes. You’ve got cool shoes; she’s got cool shoes. Guys who wear cool shoes marry women who wear cool shoes and have kids who wear cool shoes,” it almost sounds like good advice, I’m high for sure, or drunk, or both.

“But what do I say after that?”

“Tell her your name, then ask for her name. Ask her about her favorite shoes. You tell her yours, but let her speak more. Then give her your phone number. If she likes you, she’ll call you later, or text you while we’re still her. Simple,” Elias makes it sound so easy.

“But what if she doesn’t want to talk to me? Then what?”

“That’s just life. Can’t make people love you.”

“Don’t chase pussy, make pussy chase you,” Doug hops into the conversation.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I rebuke him.

“How would you know? You’ve never even had pussy. Have you ever seen one?”

“I know enough to know when you’re saying something stupid,” I really hate Doug.

“Chill out Doug, he’s just trying to get his cherry popped, but he’s got a better chance with the bar tender if you ask me,” Grant jumps in.

“You guys should chill out. Sure, he is a virgin but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just hasn’t happened for him yet. And being gay isn’t really something to be ashamed about either so I’m not sure why you two keep making the gay jokes.” Elias tries to bring reason into. He’s really good when it comes to stuff like this.

“You can’t protect your big little brother forever,” Grant responds immediately.

“Hey bro, did I ever tell you the story about how Grant and Doug paid a prostitute. After they were finished the three fell asleep in bed. She left in the middle of the night with their wallets. They didn’t realize she was gone and spent all night naked and cuddling. Repressed sexuality or something like that, might be the reason they go so hard with the gay jokes, and focus so much on sex.” Elias tells the story with a straight face and suddenly Doug and Grant are silent for the first time tonight.

“That’s, well that’s a story I’ll never forget,” and one I didn’t need to hear.

“Go talk to your sneaker woman,” Elias gently nudges me off the couch.

“You’re an asshole just like your brother,” I hear Doug say to Elias as I walk away.

She’s even more gorgeous up close than she was from across the room. But she doesn’t seem to notice me, or anyone really. Her eyes seem to glow slightly and dart around the room quickly as if she’s looking for something. Her hands look soft, but they’re balled into fist. Maybe she’s looking for someone. This might be a bad time to talk to her.

“What do you want,” A woman’s voice with some kind of accent asks. It sounds like New Orleans but not completely.

Oh shit, she’s talking to me. Was I staring? I didn’t realize I had gotten this close to her. What if she’s mad? What if she’s here looking for her cheating boyfriend and that’s why she’s mad and wearing sneakers. She’s getting ready for a fight. What have I gotten myself into? I take too long to get my words out and she’s already walking away before I can say anything.

“Please wait,” I start to follow her.

She picks up speed, but I don’t lose track of her. She isn’t running from me, it’s almost as if she’s running towards something else. Still, I feel like a total creep right now. I’m chasing this woman through the club and nobody know why. I follow her through a back door into a strange area I didn’t know existed, almost like a dungeon. Black stones, and dirt floors, the opposite of the rest of the club. Just a corridor, she doesn’t even realize I’m following her but I catch a glimpse of whatever or whoever she’s following as we round the corner into a bigger set of rooms. It smells like coins for some reason, almost like the place is used as a piggy bank. I glance into each of the rooms and can only assume this is some kind of sex dungeon.  

A thick red liquid seems to stain all of the floors and walls. Some of it is dried in bits and pieces while other spots are still wet and shiny. I do my best to dodge the wet ones, not really sure if I can clean off whatever this stuff is. I’m really putting my favorite pair of shoes on the line for this woman. A woman, I probably should not be following through strange places. We don’t stay long before we’re heading through another corridor and up some stairs. She’s focused and not even acknowledging my calls. 

Chapter 3.3 – False Confidence



“Why did you bring him,” I hear Grant try to whisper over the club music.

“Shouldn’t he be fucking a computer or something,” Doug responds.

“Because he’s my brother, and I like to spend time with him. Stop being assholes,” Elias defends me loud enough for me to hear.

Elias’ friends aren’t fond of me. I’m not fond of them either. Just art school dropouts. More concerned with looking like artists and living the artists life than actually making art. Elias actually finished so I’m not sure when he found time to be friends with these jerks. They just sit around all day pretending to be depressed and updating LiveJournal about not wanting to live if it’s all a lie. All for attention. Fake smart assholes who care about mental health on the internet but not in real life unless it’s some celebrity they care about. Just dickwads craving attention. Fake ass Basquiat impersonators.

“You good? Here, have a shot,” Elias hands me a small glass.

I drink it without a second thought, “what is that,” I cough as it stings my throat going down.

“Vodka,” he laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you something else to drink.”

I never got why we all come to a nightclub together, then split up. Elias leaves me to go find love on the dance floor. I don’t really care where Doug and Grant went off to. I take a seat at the bar and see what everyone else is drinking. Straight shots of clear and brown liquors. Drinking is not my forte, but I think that pot is really starting to take hold.

“What can I get you,” the bartender asks.

“Oh, I just had a drink.”

“Usually people don’t stop at one,” he jokes.

“Well, I don’t usually drink any.”

“A smoker then?”

“Yeah,” why did I just lie to this guy?

“Sure, you are. This doesn’t seem like your kind of place,” he called my bluff.

“You’re right. My brother brought me here for my birthday. Wants me to meet a nice girl.”

“At this place,” he bursts into laughter. “Your brother has a lot to learn about nice girls.”

“He’s better than I am with the ladies.”

“Maybe you should be looking for something other than the ladies,” he smiles at me.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

He laughs again “about that drink. What kind of flavors do you like?”

“Umm, I like sour things and fruits”

“I like fruits too,” he laughs again, he laughs a lot, “I’ll be right back.”

“This is good,” I sip the drink he made, “what is it.”

“Midori Sour, that’s your drink now. This one is on the house. I have to go help some other customers, try to relax and mingle. You’re a likeable person. I’m here if you don’t find that special lady,” the bartender heads off.

I try to do what everyone has been telling me to do. I need to relax. I make my way to the dance floor and move around a little. I’m sure I look stupid and uncoordinated but nobody says anything. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Should people be talking or are they talking about me and I just can’t recognize it? I’m the only person who isn’t dancing with someone else. Maybe that’s the problem. I spot a woman standing along the wall by herself. I can tell she doesn’t really want to be here either.

“Hey, do you want to dance,” I make my way over to her.

“What?”

“Do you want to dance?”

“I don’t know you,” she has a point.

“Okay. I’ll be around if you want to dance,” drugs and alcohol make rejection easier to take. Wait, am I going to be an addict now?

Maybe it’s the pot from earlier, maybe it’s the drinks I had or maybe I’m just having a panic attack and I’m suddenly thinking of all the ways that this is the wrong place for me. But, I’m hot and I can’t breathe right now. Am I inebriated or am I having a panic attack? Wait, I just asked that. I don’t know, I might just be a hypochondriac. I haven’t had a panic attack since maybe junior year of college. I just start moving through the crowd of people until I can find a bathroom.  

Inside smells like it hasn’t been cleaned in forever, sweat mixed with must but mostly urine. I can hear the sounds of a sex from the other side of the wall. At least someone is having a good time, I guess. I look at myself in the dirty mirror and try to calm down for a moment. I splash some water on my face and wipe it off. Some quick breathing and I’m feeling a little better. I love Elias, but this is his world not mine. Just a little while longer and I can get out of here. I just need to go out there, pretend I’m having a good time and I can go home and never come back.

Outside the bathroom and my senses are instantly overloaded again. It seems like the music is even louder and there’s more people inside. All the false confidence I had built up in the bathroom is gone in an instant.  

“Yo, where have you been,” Elias approaches me with his friends.

“Oh, I was just mingling with people.”

“In the men’s room? That’s some strange mingling,” Doug half jokes.

“If that’s your kind of mingling I hear the bartender is into that,” Grant adds.

“Fuck off,” I’m really not in the right mind state to deal with their crap.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just upset nobody is giving them the time of day,” Elias tries to keep the peace. “Let’s go grab a table to chill out for moment.”

“Do you have table money,” Grant starts with the jokes again.

“I do,” I pipe up. I don’t like to brag about income, but fuck him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got table money tonight. That’s what happens when you actually sell art and don’t just post on Myspace all day,” Elias with the dunk off the assist.

Chapter 3.2 – This is Elias



“What are you doing? We’re supposed to go out tonight,” my brother Elias starts.

“Nah, I’m just going to hang out here tonight.”

“And do what? There’s only so much porn to watch and so many video games you can play. What game is so good that you can miss out on some Grade A vagina and breasts?”

“Elder Scrolls: Oblivion it’s pretty fun. It’ll only take a few minutes to set you up with a character.”  

“I don’t get you. You graduated college; you got a good job. A nice apartment, and you even brought me along. But you still prefer games over women. I’m cool with it if you like guys? Is that it?”

“What? Who told you that? I just want to play my game.”

Elias starts digging through my closet for some reason. He might be borrowing shoes or something for his night out. I’ve got better shoes than him, he’s got me beat in just about other category. He’s more artistic than I am. He’s got better luck in relationships, better dressed, better hair. All of that. Somehow, he made green hair cool. I tried blue in high school, it was terrible but he still has green highlights in his hair. He picks out a pair of blue and black Jordan 1s. Admittedly my favorite then goes back to the closet.

“Dude, we need to get you better clothes. It’s like you grew up, but you still dress the same as you did in high school. You’re never going to find anyone if you keep dressing in jeans and t-shirts all the time. No adult woman,” he pauses, “or man, is going for that,” he starts again.

“Can you just stop,” I try to protest as he drags me to his room across the hall.

“Blue is your color for sure, always remember that,” he pulls a blue leather jacket with black fur or something covering the inside from his closet.

“This is for you, was going to give it to you for your birthday. I know you like black so the blue jacket and the blue on your shoes makes it pop. Dressing nice as much about color theory as it is style.”

“Thanks, it’s a really nice jacket, but I don’t know what color theory is,” he loses me with the art stuff.

Elias’s room is full of completed and partially completed art. Some of it is just general stuff he does for commissions. Family portraits, wedding memories and that kind of stuff. The stuff he does for himself is more interesting. Abstract portraits, monsters and the like. Some huge paintings filled with intricate geometric shapes. You can tell he’s more passionate about those.

“Stay right here, don’t go back to your room. You’re going out tonight,” he runs into his closet. I let him have the bigger room. He’s got more clothes and he needed space for painting, he puts it to good use. I’m not sure what I’d do with all the space, but I’ve got the better view from my room.

He comes back and starts rubbing cocoa butter on my face and hands like mom would do before school. I try to pull away but he’s persistent, the same way mom was back then. I try to sneak away but he manages to wrestle me into a chair before starting to pick out my hair and lecture me. Something about dry skin and knotted hair. I just put up with it. I know I’m losing this battle tonight, in fact, I’ve already lost it. We’re going out and he insists on me trying to attract someone. I’m not so sure why he’s insistent on me finding someone to get married to. He acts way too much like a parent to be as immature as he is.

“Do we have to do all this,” I start to complain as he starts squirting a spray bottle into my hair.

“Yes, because I love you bro. You’re my best friend but you have no sense of style and you’re awkward as fuck, like all the time,” he laughs and I have to laugh because he’s honest.

“I’ll try to be less awkward; I really am working on it.”

“Yeah, don’t try. That just makes it worse. Get dressed, meet me in the living room.”

I head over to my room and get dressed. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I have to admit, he knows what he’s talking about. Other than the jacket, I owned all these clothes already. Some quick hair care and moisturization really changed my look. I head to the living room and catch Elias in the middle of his favorite pastime.

“C’mon, we’re going to get you to relax today,” he pats the couch cushion next to himself.  

“No thank you, I’ll go get the car,” I grab my keys.

“Nope, I already called a cab. C’mon, I want to see if it helps you relax a little.”

“I just, I’ve only done that a few times. I’ll be fine without it.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Like riding a bicycle,” Elias jokes.

He continues to break apart the sticky green buds, what looks like seeds and small sticks to the side and the fluffy parts together. He sprinkles them into a little white paper and slowly rolls it together. He licks the edge and closes up the joint. He quickly runs a lighter along the edges to make sure the adhesive sticks. He places it in his mouth and lights the end while taking a big puff and exhaling slowly.

“Your turn,” he hands it to me.

“My turn for what,” I pretend he’s not extending the joint to me.

“To take a hit,” he stands and puts it in my hand.

“This is peer pressure, we’re adults.”

“No, this is brother pressure,” he moves my hand towards my mouth. “Just think of it like a straw. You got this.”

I’m not putting up much of a fight. Part of me is curious why he likes it so much. I’ve tried a few times but never gotten high, yet he seems to love the stuff. I take a big puff like he did, and nothing happens. He continues to encourage me to take hit after hit. Soon there’s a burning sensation in the back of my throat and I’m forced to cough. For some reason this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. It isn’t long before we’ve finished the joint and our cab arrives. I’m not really feeling anything until I stand up, but I’m still not sure if I’m actually feeling anything. My body is feeling light, but heavy at the same time. In the back of the cab, I get the hiccups which makes Elias laugh even harder.

“What’s so funny,” I ask between hiccups.

“It means you were swallowing the smoke.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“No, you inhale it into your lungs. You swallowed it like food,” he chuckles again.

“You said like a straw,” I remind him of his own words.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me tonight bro,” he completely ignores the topic at hand.

Chapter 3.1 – Today Starts a New Day


[Present Day]

 
It’s so hot in here, my body isn’t even sweating. I can’t see anything. Why can’t I breathe? My head is pounding. Slowly my eyes start to adjust to my location. Smoke, I can’t breathe because there’s smoke everywhere. There’s a burning scorch mark on my chest that’s raw to the touch and it feels like my head has been caved in. Why is it so hot, and what’s that ringing? I’m starting to realize the building is on fire. What building am I in? Doesn’t matter for now, I’m sure it’ll be on the news. I need to find my way out. I start to lift myself off the floor but my arms and legs give out beneath me, not strong enough to carry my own weight. I crawl over to some kind of table and try to pull myself to my feet. It takes a moment but I’m standing up, just barely. My legs are wobbly, like I’m some helpless baby deer. I drag my legs through the burning building trying to recognize any of the burning surroundings as I look for a door. It’s some sort of office building with weird furnishings but the flames are quickly engulfing most of it. Nothing comes to mind, nothing at all. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around any of this.

Don’t touch doorknobs if there’s a fire. I remember teachers always telling us that when we were younger. Right now, this door is my only way out. I grab the doorknob and quickly turn it. As I let go the flesh peels from the palm of my hand and leaves it melted to the knob. I want to scream out in pain, but I can’t. I just don’t have the energy or the ability to open my mouth. Staying on two feet is taking everything I have so I’ll just endure the pain in silence.  

Walking outside and I instantly start to choke. Almost as if my lungs hadn't had fresh air in a long time, as if it was some foreign substance. The sunlight instantly blinds me removing the little bit of sight that I had a few seconds ago. I feel hands touch me and people start to ask if I’m fine. Their warmth is more comforting than the fire, but I can't stay here. This feels wrong. I start to feel my way around and move away from the crowd before my sight fully returns to me. I don’t even recognize the burning building I just walked out of. I don’t even recognize this city, at least not through my blurry vision. Maybe once I’ve gathered my composure, I can figure it out.

As sirens come closer in the background, I guess it’s time to get familiar with the city. I start to limp away, legs feeling a little stronger but not strong enough. As I move more, they seem to strengthen and remember how to move. Almost as if they had forgotten how to walk. A few people behind me start to point me out to the firefighters. I can I hear them, I’m hearing everything. Wobbly legs and sensory overload, not exactly the best way position to be in. I should be running right now, but I can’t do it. Instead, I just walk faster and hope they get distracted by the fire.

“Hey, buddy you need help,” one guy grabs at me.

I snatchy my arm away from him and keep walking. Unless he could tell me why I woke up in a burning building, there’s no reason for me to talk to him. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy that can help me anyway. It seems like more people are starting to head towards the fire, so I just push through the crowd and try not to lose my balance as I go along. I’m not sure how far I’ll have to go until I’m away from the commotion but my legs won’t go much further. I duck into an alley as another fire truck screams past me. My eyes haven’t adjusted yet so it’s too fast for me to make out the city name on the side.

I make my way over to a dumpster and lean against it to catch my breath. I don’t care that it smells terrible, I lean my back against it and slowly slide to the ground to rest my legs. I suck in a few more heavy breaths full of oxygen trying to let my body recuperate. The scorch mark on my chest is still tender to the touch, and burns when I take a deep breath. My skull might have actually been bashed in, there’s blood and dirt covering my face, and I can feel a few indentations around my skull and face. I slide down the wall and sit next to the dumpster, my legs can’t take me much further without giving out. I just need a moment to rest and catch my breath.  

Too many deep breaths cause me to cough and spit up a mixture of black phlegm and blood. Shit, blood? That’s new, I don’t remember that at all. I don’t remember anything to be honest with myself. I reach into the back pocket of my burnt jeans to fish out my wallet. It seems like the flames might have gotten to it, the back pocket is partially burnt and my wallet seems to burnt pretty bad, melted in some parts. No cash, my cards seem to all have melted together into one super card that stores probably won’t take. Part of my driver’s license sticks through mess. I can’t read anything of value, just a warped picture of, who I’m guessing is me, and the letter M. I guess my name starts with an M. Was it that hot in there? Why was it so hard for me to move?  

I just need to think. I need to remember how I got to this point. I close my eyes and rub my fist against the side of my head as if it’ll help me remember what happened. I pull my hand back when I reach one of the tender indentations on my head. Just think.