Blog #9 - Untitled

The day started just as all of the others had the past few months. Oh yeah, except of course that Dad was coming to town today. Great... I woke up, rustled through my drawers for a morning soundtrack, something somber maybe? Nah, but I did decide to switch things up when I came across a dusty mixtape in the bottom of the drawer. Funny how it was named "Untitled" Haha Haha… Ha. Sorry. Well, I threw the disc on and jumped in the shower, I didn't recognize the song, at first. But after a crazy guitar rift opened up to a unmistakable vocal riff, it was obvious. It was Dad's. I was already wet so I couldn't turn it off. Anyways, I hadn't heard the track before so it must've been leftover from Mom's stuff. As the song went on what I thought was his typical "Drugs, Sex, and Alcohol!" song, shifted into something I hadn't heard from him before. He was singing about Mom and the good times, and honestly seemed happy. Not once in my life had I seen him as anything but selfish and heartless.

You know what, hell, if even my loser of a father can enjoy other people, then what's stopping me? Who better to start with than the old man himself? I overreacted the other day, and maybe if I gave him a chance I could see this other side of him. If only I hadn't broken that damn phone, I could've called him, but I settled on his manager's number. I dialed it up. "Hey its Marshal, Marshal Mecher"
"Oh hey bud, its been a long time," he responded with refreshing sincerity, "Your Dad was hoping you'd call, I'll put him on."
"Thanks."
After a few moments, a different voice answered "Hey, I understand if you are mad at me, but-" I interrupted, "Stop, apologies aren't helping anyone anymore. All my life I didn't have a father, and I'm done hating you." I didn't want his pity to change my mind. "If you can, I can head out to breakfast at Alice's?"
"Well, Marshall, um, I was supposed to have a meet up in a couple of minutes..." for once I could see the pain in his voice.
"Oh, well, another time then-"
"Nah, screw it! Let's do it, a family emergency right?"

I hopped down to the garage and took off down Maine St. towards Alice's. I got there early, but I walked in anyways. As I crossed through the doors I ran straight into a familiar face. One that I had been avoiding for years. Bess Prescott. We had a history, she was the girl that got away. Hell, if I was trying to talk to people, she's one hell of a start.
"It's been a while," I gulped out, "How've you been?"
"Good," she lipped.
"Hey, I know we weren't on the best note last time we talked, but I'd love to catch up?"
She prodded, but seemed interested, "Do you mean, like a date?"
"No no no no, not yet," I did my best impression of confidence, "Unless of course that's what you wanted?"
She gave me the side eye, so I backtracked, "Just lunch then."
"That sounds good to me," she agreed as I walked her out of the restaurant. We stood by the curb for a few minutes and talked. Somebody near us pointed out a silhouette on the roof of the Maitland, she spun around to see and her phone flew out of her bag and landed face up on the road. "Don't worry," I said, I'll grab it," still looking towards the Maitland I strolled over to the phone. "Not a scratch," I yelled over, but she was still glued to the building.

I started back across the street, but I heard the blare of a car horn, quickly spun around to see my father in the front seat of a speeding taxi. Almost in an instant I was thrown into the air by the screeching car, then it was silent. There was nothing. Just black. The sad thing is that it didn't feel so odd this time.

After what felt like an eternity a steady beep started to fill my darkness. Light started to stream in from thin slits, and then I was back. I couldn't move. My eyes darted around a bright box. They settled on the worried eyes of Lamar, what a relief, I was alive. I must be in the hospital, but there was no other sound than that constant tone. Flanking him was Bess, tears still wet her cheeks. The last man in the room was pacing back and forth across the floor. He turned towards me and I could see my own eyes glaring back. Dad smiled and my eyelids fluttered shut. Beep, beep, beep, and I slipped right back out of consciousness into the deep, dark space

Blog #8 - Lights

I always where the tape is in the main office. I had a lot of work to do around the school and I wanted to give myself a soundtrack. After all I had already been at the school for hours so I had earned some fun. I found the tape in Mrs. Bennett's office and locked the intercom in the on position, and blasted some Journey through the halls. I got in a rhythm: cleaning bathrooms, sweeping halls, and vacuuming rooms. I got through a room per song. Somewhere through Escape I walked into Ms. Leach's room in the freshman hall to a frigid gust of wind that nearly took me off my feet. The back window had been thrown wide open. It was pitch black, I had been getting so much done that I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The only break in the sea of black was the constant parade of snow through the night sky. It was beautiful.

I got back to work on the room and slipped back into my trance. Room after room, hall after hall, by the time I was done those halls were spotless. Every single floor shining and clean, I could eat off of them, that is if I hadn't forgotten my dinner, again. At this point I was starving and decided I would call in some takeout and pick it up on the way home.

I dialed up Alice's. The phone rang for a few minutes until an automated Alice answered the phone, "Alice's! Sorry, we're closed." That's odd. It's called a 24-hour diner for a reason. I didn't think much of it and settled for a microwave dinner. I grabbed my stuff from the closet and locked the door on the way out. I raced towards the door, stomach roaring. I got to the front door and was met with an eight-foot wall of snow. A white barrier blocking my way to a late night snack. "Goddamit!" the only other door I had keys to was the back and that was at the basement level, no way it wasn't buried six-feet under the snow. I accepted my defeat and slunked back to my closet. Stupid snow ruining my snacking. I reached into my pocket for the key, and nothing. I had left the stupid key staring me in the eye. I was too tired to complian, my exhaustion hit be like a punch and before I knew it I was out cold on the floor.

Blog #7 - Telephone Line

I woke up to an unfamiliar ring resonating through the house. It was early, the moon still hung low threw the window and the grass still glimmering. I dragged my feet across the floor to find the source. There, blaring and buzzing on my kitchen table lay the home phone that I never touched, let alone get calls on.
I hesitantly lifted the phone to my ear, dust drifted to my feet.
"Hello," mumbled a voice.
"Hi..."
"Marshal?" it asked.
I paused, "And who might this be?"
"It's... um... Dad." There was a long silence, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it. Who the hell did he think he was. Not one call. In over five years, he never once picked up the phone to check on his kid. I sat by that phone, waiting for days when Mom died, hoping, praying he would call. The only one left who was family, and he was even less real then Mom. He might as well have died to me that night. I couldn't find words. Actually, he didn't deserve it. "Listen, bud, I know this is far too late, but... The guys, my managers, they're planning the stops on our next tour and wanted to know if I'd be willing to swing by the old stomping grounds, eh?" He chortled. Gathering himself together from his amusement, he turned serious, "I uhh wanted you to know before the news breaks." He took a deep breath, "Call me if you want to meet up. See ya soon." The dull buzz shook through my head as he hung the phone up. My anger built and snapped. The phone flew from my hand to the door and shattered to pieces. I stormed out to the balcony, bristling with fury. I threw open the door and was met with a wall of light. The blinding sun sent me reeling backward. My vision stayed blurred and spotted for a moment. After I regathered my courage I peered through the blinds and hazarded another venture outside. This time when I stood there on my balcony, alone and exposed, the sun had hidden in the clouds. A single snowflake drifted through the sky and rested on the railing.

Blog #6 - American Pie

I woke up to the blaring of a horn. When I leapt off the hood, the source of the sound was no where to be found. I had dozed off in my stargazing. A thick fog must have rolled in over the night. Curious as to who had been my rude awakener, I felt my way through the mist, barely able to see my own feet. As I came to the fog seemed to tighten around my chest, sirens blared in the distance, my head spun. The whole scene was all too familiar.

I stumbled as I made my way through the obscure clouds. I lost my footing and a hand shot out of the dark to catch me. Lamar had come by to check in on me about the incident the other day with Hanky. When I hadn't responded to my calls, he was worried. He knew I'd always been a night owl, so he stopped by the apartment to see if anything was wrong. When I didn't answer the door, he knew where to find me. Sitting there with him, the night reminded me all to much of one I'd tried very hard to forget. 

I had just come home from school. I walked down Mains towards home, towards Maitland East. As I made my way through the suffocating fog, I saw flashing lights in the distance. I assumed there had been a false alarm with the sprinklers, or a fire drill, but as I drew nearer, the sirens grew around me until they were deafening. It was then I knew something had gone wrong. My walk turned to a sprint, no longer afraid of the dangers within the fog, but rather those waiting beyond the red and blue lights.

I ran up the stairs to my hall, past the yellow tape and into the threshold. To my horror, the stretcher in the den was covered. My body stopped. I open my mouth to scream, but there was nothing there. A hand caught me as I dropped to my knees, Lamar.

That night was six years ago to the day. It happened to be the same day as the murder of Mr. Maitland's brother, so the town, occupied in their paranoia, forgot all about Mama's death. Everyone, but Lamar. He sat with me for hours, cried with me. In those moments, he helped me through the darkness.

Blog #5 - Free Bird

I don't know if you have ever seen a dead man walking, and to be honest I don't know if I have either. The one thing I do know is that sliding off the ice was the least of my worries that day.

I swerved around the corner, still flustered after the incident just moments earlier. What I would see next was far more upsetting.

I sat there, no more than ten feet away from a man who was dead. He had been murdered, yet there he was. He didn't say anything, just looked right at me with raw pain welling in his eyes. In an instant he was gone. His pain was my own, and suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed the one thing Mr. Evans and I both lacked, love.

Spending every last ounce of energy I had, I crawled up the stairs to my apartment.

No music filled the void. I searched through every CD, every disc I picked up I put right back. All my life music had been an escape. A method in which to cope. When I lost my Mom, I had nobody. My dad never called, never texted, didn't even show up for my graduation, but I still had his stupid Walkman. Whenever I called, his manager would answer and "delivered the message." I knew it wasn't true. Even if he did do it, my father would never care.. All he ever cared about was himself and writing music. I just wish I could give him a piece of my mind, let him know that his only son hated his very existence, but I could still turn to music, until now.  

At least, I gave up. If I hadn't found anything yet, I wasn't going to. I needed to just sleep everything over, It was a new day. The high school finally went back to school on Monday, and it was already Sunday afternoon. I spent the whole day cleaning every inch of that school.

By the time I left the building, the sun had set, but the light hadn't. I glanced at my watch, the minute hand ticked back and forth. The stars painted the sky into a neon mosaic, constantly swirling into new shapes and constellations. I had one CD left to try, I put the medley on and laid on the hood of my car and watched. The entire canvas of the sky unfolded before me. Suddenly a knife cut through the sky and the two halves would no longer meet. I drifted away, I don't know for how long. Minutes? Hours? An eternity in a single moment. And then it all stopped.

Blog #4 - A Soulful Christmas

I couldn't shake what happened last night. The stress had been building for days and maybe it just pushed me over the edge. Nonetheless, It's weird. I had never had any problems with fainting. It had to be a coincidence, but still makes you think. I was off kilter and needed to get back in my groove.

What better to get your groove on than the legend himself, James Brown. I like to pride myself on an extensive Brown collection: "I Got A Feelin'," "I Got You," the list goes on. I know my stuff. What I don't have, however, is "A Soulful Christmas." I know, I know, not the best holiday album, but it's almost Christmas, and I could use some spirit.

It was too cold to walk, of course December should be, but this was different. I made my way to the garage on 3W, rounded the corner and there she was. I hadn't been in my car in ages now that Colombia was on winter break, let alone driven in the snow. I turned on what James Brown I did have and floored it. My heart was pumping, I felt alive for the first time in days.

I was in control of my life. I loved it. That control, however, quickly slipped from my fingers as I swung onto Magnolia, hit ice and slid onto the sidewalk. "Dammit!" I couldn't help but yell, everything had been going so well, I forgot the stupid chains.

I slammed the door behind me as I got out to check out the damage. It was fine, but there was still a small dent in the bumper and the entire side was scratched. "You dodged a bullet, I've seen some nasty injuries around here," came a voice from behind me, "Chains?" I spun around to face Frederick Hanky, an old classmate. He had pulled beside me in his truck. "Yeah, I got lucky," I sighed.

"It'll need to go into the shop, but still... Hey, Marshal, didn't you have a weird blackout yesterday?" 

"Yeah, and heard something weird." 

"I read the story... me too." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," he hesitated, "Don't you think its weird? On the same day." 

I had thought the same thing, "With all that's been happening? It doesn't feel right." 

"It doesn't feel natural. It wasn't a coincidence," he whispered shakily. 

“Maybe.” I stared past him. I got back into the garage, but there was a man in my way. I recognized him, he looked pale, and he was bleeding…

Mr. Evans.

Blog #3 - U Can't Touch This

A cold trill crept up my spine as I slowly turned towards the disembodied voice. My hands trembling as they rose to my head. The world slowed as I gathered the strength to stop the shaking just long enough to whimper, "I don't want any trouble." I raised my face to confront my attacker, near petrified in my skin; there was nothing there. I could've sworn there was something behind me. My heart pounded.

Utter darkness.
Silence.
Complete absence of light, sound, and joy.
I wasn't afraid. I wasn't happy. I was just alive, but at the same time, I wasn't.
It was awful.

I woke up enveloped by a crowd of people surrounding me. I was still petrified, the sea of concerned faces. A single silhouette emerged from the crowd. There was a warmth to the man, he hushed the murmurs and barked at the gawkers, "Give the kid some space!" He helped me over to a bench where I could finally see his face, Lamar.

He sat me down and berated me with questions. "What happened? Are you hurt? Why were you alone so late?"
"I'm fine," I assured him, "I just blacked out." His concern was comforting. Lamar answered the call the night my mother died. A heart attack, in her sleep. Lamar had sat there with me, in complete silence, for hours. From that day on, he had always checked in on me. If there was anyone I'd want to pester me like that, it'd be him. "I um... uh.. I don't know what happened. I was walking home and I heard something behind me. Somebody, some thing told me to freeze. I turned around and there was nothing there. I was scared. I am scared."
"I'll drive you home. You should get some rest." We go into Lamar's coup, he paused and with the most sincere look in his eyes, "I've got your back kid."  He cranked up his stereo. MC Hammer, "U Can't Touch This." For a moment, it felt like nobody could.