A fictional narrative of a non-fictional life.
A different Story
“Every man must in some way search for answers that are unbeknownst to him. Since the beginning of time man has done everything in his power to do so. Telling stories about how crows steal fire from mountain tops, or how Promethius brought forth fire unto the people. All of these are just ways to quell man’s desire for knowledge, of what will become of him, and mostly, of where he goes after death. Sometimes, we search for these answers without even knowing we are, through dreams, or higher states of awareness. Regardless of how we are doing it, we ARE in fact, doing it. No man can escape his fate, no matter what that may be. Everything follows a certain timeline, and every person is destined to follow it. If you attempt to stray from your intended path, how would you know you are straying. Couldn’t that be the intended path? For you to stray from it. No person will ever know, until the after life. If, of course, there is an afterlife. It is up to the individual to decide how to create his own path, and reach his own version of enlightenment, whether it is for them to get intoxicated constantly, or devote their entire life to the servitude of their lord. Far be it for me to decide how you attempt this, good luck to you all in your path of enlightenment. Graduation is a time of happiness, depression, and extreme disbelief of the world around you. In the next few months, you will sort out college transcripts, bite your nails over your ACT score, and attempt to do volunteer work to “one up” you on the corporate ladder to success. I hope that I have in some way helped to shape your life for the years to come, hopefully for the better. With that, I now will proceed with the giving of the diplomas.”
My name is Lucas. I am a blonde haired, green eyed boy. I have dreamed every day for the last 12 years and some about what I was going to do after graduation. I have plans, plans to become great, become successful, start a family, have some kids, and then retire early on, and live my life is leisure, as was intended. I sit here now, half asleep, staring at my computer screen, watching my graduation. My principal on screen is not much of a man to look at. He is short, and has graying hair, but when you stand before the man, he seems to have a presence that no one else can touch. He could project himself onto a room like a giant. Never before have I seen such power and grace in the same object. His speech was simply amazing to just sit and listen to, no one talked, or even dared move. Then his speech ended. Red heads, blond haired girls and boys walked up to the stage, all races and body types stood before him looking smug and completely happy with themselves. How could they know half of them would end up divorced and in dead-end jobs? It’s depressing to think about such things. Maybe, that’s just because my life has started to become that way.
I didn’t go to college, it was my brilliant idea to stay home, but I …can’t remember what has happened since I graduated. I know slim details, but I can’t begin to believe any of it was real. Nothing I remember follows time or logic. You probably don’t understand anything I’m saying. Maybe I will just let you in on my story. I will take you back to the day of my graduation, because that’s when it all started to get weird.
“We’re finally done!” someone screamed from the background.
“YEEEEEEAHAHHHH! I Can’t believe it, can you lucas?” Charlie said as he runs up to me and throws his arm over the my shoulder and pushes off, lunging in to the air.
“Naw man, this is so surreal, it seems like it came too fast” I replied.
“Too fast!? Are you KIDDING me?”
“Haha, I guess you’re right.”
I grabbed Charlie by his black gown, and began to pull him up over my shoulder and over my head. My fingers gripped tightly into his black hair, and yanked hard forward, sending his tubby body flying over the front of my body.
“Ooohhh, looks like you’ve been working out.” Charlie says.
He lies on the ground for a while, the wind completely knocked out of him, which makes sense because 200 pounds of pure, gripping, fat hitting the floor will do that. I begin to flex, and show my rippling biceps and simply respond with “What can I say?”
I wink at him, and then extend my arm to help him. He grabs it quickly, and I pull him to his feet.
“Next time, you are mine.” Charlie sounded quite prominent and confident as he told me this and pointed slowly to his chest.
Charlie is my best friend. I have known him since I was in middle school, and wouldn’t ever let anything happen to him. We are inseperable, even decided to go to the same college and everything. We were “roomies” there too. He has a roundness to his fact that is due to the fact that he has a nervous eating habit, and when I say “nervous”, I mean whenever he feels like it, regardless of what he is feeling. I have attempted to tell him to quit, but he seems happy, and who am I to judge? His features has been somewhat tarnished by his pudgyness, but one thing remains distinct, his eyes. His eyes are the deepest shade of blue that anyone will ever see, and I am constantly envious of that.
I am the complete opposite of him. Some people say I even come close to being called vain, but that’s the way I am. I have a muscular figure, and an athletic build. My face has distinct features, my jawline is smooth, and my check bones very well centered. My nose is sharp, but round at the end, almost perfect some say. The only noticeable mark on me is thousands of freckles on my shoulders and back from countless sunburns. No matter what I did to protect myself, the sun would always get to me, destroying my fair skin.
“Let’s party man!! Silvia is having a party at her house tonight, and she’s been telling everyone how much she wants you to go.” Charlie exploded.
“Dude, you know I don’t drink, and since when have you?” I questioned.
“We don’t have to drink, but come on,” he coaxed, “it’s Silvia! She’s the hottest of the hot, you have got to go and at least talk to her. I know she’s been after you for a long time, and I know for a fact that you feel the same way.”
“What are you talking about?” I shot back instantly.
“Woah, don’t flip on me man, it’s obvious to everyone, including her, which doesn’t seem to be a bad thing, she wants to see you! Come on! Let us gooooooo!” he said with the utmost urgency.
“Fine, fine, but I gotta stop at home first.” I explained. “I may be a graduate but that doesn’t mean I’m out from under the hooks of my grandma.”
“No argument there, your grandma is vicious.” He said almost instantly.
I glared at him intently. My eyebrow shot upward, and my face became stern and unmoving. “Haha, just kidding, I know, I’ll give ya a call before we head out.”
“All right, until then.” Charlie said.
Before we headed out, we exchanged our signature hand shake, which consisted of pounding hands, spinning clockwise with our hand outreached, slapping hands, then moon walking in our appropriate direction. It was a bit much, but what else did we have to occupy our time?
What he said about my grandma isn’t really true. My grandma is a very kind lady. When my dad couldn’t own up to the job, he dumped me off at my grandma’s house. He gave her all the responsibility, financial obligations, and took all of the credit. I have come to hate him so much, but he’s still my dad, and I put up with him on the few occasions I see him. My grandma is cool really. She is only in her fifties, and still likes to have a good time with her friends often. She still has a lot of life left in her, and her face shows it. It is warm and bright, and has a very welcoming feel to it, the way a grandparent should. She wears her hair short and curly. The blonde locks seem to surround her eyes and the rest of her face as she walks, causing them to bob up and down. She has raised me since I was an infant, and I thank her every day for that, but she does have the tendency to get a little anal retentive about some things. I can recall one occasion getting in trouble for a tootsie roll wrapper, and another for losing a plastic hanger. I’m sure other reasons were partially to cause for that, but it was still out of line on her part, although I’m sure I haven’t been too easy on here either.
I walked out of the gymnasium and into the street. People passed me from all directions, going as fast as their legs could carry them. I stood there, and walked slow, unsure of the things that were about to come. “Do I really want to graduate?” I thought to myself. Perplexed, I shook off my questions and walked into the dimly lit parkling lot. Night had fallen since the graduation ceremony had started, and the moon had become covered with clouds. Rain was certain.
Walking slowly and chatting with certain people, saying such things like, “Hey man, see ya around,” “Goin to the party?” and other trivial conversations, I arrived at my car. It wasn’t much, a two-toned blue and maroon colored Ford Tempo. It isn’t much, but nothing too severe has broke in it yet, and I’m okay with it getting me from my house to the school every morning, not that I’ll need it to do that anymore. I head over to the passenger door, and unlock my car. The lock on the driver’s side is noticeably broken. The handle now refuses to even pull up anymore. It’s irritating, but it has brought up many conversations with my friends about useless things, so I guess everything was worth it.
As in climb into the driver’s side, I shut my door just in time to see a shadow drive by. Her red flowing hair cascaded down her beautiful countenance. My body actually tickled as I stared at her, and time slowed down. She had an athletic body, strong shoulders, and a smile that could kill you. That was all she did as she saw me staring, smile.
I shook this feeling of complete ambrosia off while I questioned myself, who was that girl? We live in a town of twelve thousand, but I thought I had known most everybody. She is a brand new face in a sea of everything old, and my entire body burned just to meet with her.
I hopped into my driver’s seat and heard my car hum, err more like a loud roaring sound. Not the roaring of a lion, but that of a sick seagull perhaps. A hole in the exhaust has caused me nothing but ridicule from my friends. “Are you strangling a cat?” They asked as I drive away. I usually just brushed them off. I have grown very accustomed to my strangling cat car.
I took off the parking brake, and sped hurriedly into the night horizon. That’s not actually true, I only live about five blocks away, so technically I slowly accelerated down the hill, braking the entire way. Regardless of how I did it, even going five blocks, I already noticed people partying early. People were already drunk on the roads, screaming out of the tops of sleek convertibles, red and glistening under what’s left of the moonlight in the sky.
“Irony will get him, it’s gonna rain tonight.” I stated to myself. I drove slowly the rest of the way home. I am in no hurry to go off and party with a bunch of drunk idiots. The show will be good, drunk people are always fun to watch trip over their own feet.
After what seems like hours, I pull up to my driveway slowly, and step out. The door closes with a quiet thud. The wind has picked up noticeably, and I struggle to remove the hair from my eyes. Looking towards the sky, I notice the clouds covering the sliver moon as they, with increasing speed, drift on by. I stop to take notice, and sit down on the asphalt pavement underneath me. As I quickly lower myself further, I lay fully on the ground, letting the smooth, black tar comfort my thoughts.
Is this it? After this many years, nothing has really changed, has it? Everything is just a routine, a set pattern of events that happens day after day after day. This can’t be what life is all about. I mean, who really cares about some crappy dead end job, even if it is high paying. Very few people are really happy with their life, regardless of how successful they turn out to be. I think people would be much happier if there wasn’t so much pressure to accomplish so much in so little of time. Oh right…that’s communism. Maybe they have something going for them.
Either way, none of that really concerns me now. Even with all the pressure of college, and paying for it, none of that even trickles into my mind. I have one thing on my mind–the same thing that’s always on my mind, Silvia. I’ve had a thing for her as long as I can possibly remember, and have done everything to try to be with her. I remember when we first met. It was when I became a freshman. I didn’t have a whole lot of personality at the time, I had a problem where I could see what was going on around me, but my brain didn’t quite connect to it. Everything I did seemed to me like I was looking through a tube, one of those long ones you that were on the inside of wrapping paper. The ones that you used to hit your younger siblings with when they weren’t looking. Anyway, I was walking down the hallway, and I dropped my stuff absolutely everywhere. My books were laying all around me, pencils were scattered about, right in the middle of the hallway. As I let out a frustrated groan, a voice came from behind me.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, “this stuff happens all the time, even to me. Look.” She continued as she pointed around the hallway.
“No one is even looking.”
As she appeased all of my emotions, she started to stir others that would enthrawl me to be with her. I simply stared at her as she spoke.
Her words were soothing and kind, and her face radiated every syllable as if it was the best thing she had ever spoken. Her face was stunningly beautiful. She had delicate cheekbones, and a cute little nose that seemed to stick out just a little. Wearing a new blue denim jacket, and jeans to match, it was obvious she wasn’t one of the snobby types. After all, she did decide to speak to me.
“You looook..a little shy.” She said, obviously noticing that I was too awed to say something.
“Sorry,” I said finally. “I uh, am a little…”
“Nervous?” she finished.
“Something like that…” I said as my voice trailed off.
We finished gathering my belongings and walked a little down the hallway to my classroom, completely quiet.
“My name is Silvia.” She said as she stuck out her hand.
“Mine is Lucas.” I said a little more calmly than before.
“Well it was nice to meet you Lucas.”
All I could do is smile like a fool while she glided away.
Argh! Since then, all she has done is deceive me, but keep me hanging at the same time. From boyfriend to boyfriend, I have stuck by her, more so everyday I become “the friend.” Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but hey, she’s still hot.
I let out a smile as I diverted my eyes away from the dim moonlight. My body jerked alert as something hit me in the back of my head, causing me to sit up immediately. I turn around to see a slowly rolling basketball heading off into the other direction.
“Hey.” A mysterious voice softly stated.
I diverted my eyes over in the direction of the voice to see a tall man standing in the shadow of a nearby elm tree. As he stepped ever closer, his face finally came into view. The fact of the maturing boy was easily recognizable. His somewhat greasy face, the small black hairs on his chin due to the fact that “shaving hurts”, and of course, the chin length black hair were that of my older brother, Logan.
“Hey little brother.” He said as his voice trailed off slightly.
“Wow, man… it has been a while ya know?” I replied.
“I’ve been in a bad way…I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’ve just been tied up with other things.”
“Like your drugs? You think you can just leave, and get into that stuff and think that coming back here will get you completely off the hook?”
“Naw man, it’s not like that…” he said, obviously looking hurt. “I just wanted to see you on your graduation day, maybe you will make it farther than i ever could.” He continued.
“Logan, people here have been worried about you, grandma was depressed for months. She had no idea what to do, or what to think. Your hurt so many people, including me man. What excuse could you possibly have for any of this. You dropped out of college, left everybody behind, and just left. Where did you even go?” I rambled off anxiously.
“I went to California, i tried living ‘the life’ for awhile. I tried to see if there was anything more for me, but i couldn’t get a good job, and ended up living in this crappy shared apartment. Some guy slipped me something one day, and i became hooked. I know it isn’t an excuse, but i have really missed everyone. I’ve tried coming back so many times, but i was ashamed what you all might think when i finally got here. If it changes anything, i put myself into rehab a couple months back, and I’m clean now. I’m seventeen days strong, and there is no way i will ever go back to that wretched stuff.”
“I’m glad Logan, i’m proud of you.” I uttered disbelievingly.
“I enrolled in classes, just a community college, but it’s a start. I’m gonna change. I don’t want to be this person anymore.”
On the verge of tears Logan walked over to me and grabbed my hand, and helped me up from the ground. I believed every word of what he said, I know it to be true. I just hoped nothing would hinder him from what he could truly be.
My brother has always been a smart person, but has always had the unexpected privelage of being in the wrong crowds. Even early in his life, he always hung out with bad kids, even though they weren’t bad at the time. All of his friends just mocked him and tormented him constantly. Every day they would just rip on him until the point that he couldn’t take it anymore. He lashed out at home, towards my mom and dad. The fights got so bad, that it was hard to be at home anymore, and I made it a constant effort to leave the house as much as possible. I would stay at my old best friend’s house. His name was Lee.
He was one of those kids that you couldn’t feel that you would ever like, but somehow everything was pulled to him. On my first day in a new school, he was the first one who talked to me, and offered everything to me, which of course at the time, was just a spot in the foursome of the teenage mutant ninja turtles. At the time, this was the world, and i was happy to join his games for as long as he would have me.
Anyways, as the fights grew worse, so did the tension on my parents. My dad would work the graveyard shift every night, and my mom had the stress of running a daycare, and taking care of her own kids at the same time. They did their best, but they married too young, and soon got a divorce. This was actually my dad’s second, but I don’t want to get into that now.
My dad being on his own, decided to move back into his old house, my grandmothers, in order to get on his feet again. She graciously accepted with no chance of rejection of her son, and he worked, and got back on his feet. One day, he got a call to get a promotion far away, with the promise of a big raise, but only for the period of about six months. He came and went, and when he got back, he told me and my brother that if we wanted to, we could move to a different city where he would have a permanent job. He also gave us the untimely decision of choosing whether to stay at my grandmothers. We thought about it for awhile, but decided to live with my grandma. We had moved every two years since i was six, and we couldn’t do it anymore. We needed stability and that was something my father just couldn’t provide at the time.
The reason I mention any of this background story was to tell you the impact it had on my brother. Logan took it harder than anyway, including my dad. He couldn’t stand the idea of facing another divorce, especially with the thought of him being the cause of it on his conscious. He lashed out at my grandparents and me, having grand fights until two or three in the morning.
After awhile he calmed down though, and things started to get normal. He hung out with, what he though, were better friends, and soon began to get his life on track. He graduated and began to go to college. He dropped out after a semester, and now we are back to where we started.
“You still think you can take me in hoops?” I said to Logan, trying to keep him from falling apart.
“I haven’t touched a basketball in months, and it looks like you’ve been practicing quite a bit.” He said back.
“Is that a no?” I inquired.
“The only thing that means is that you won’t have an excuse when you lose…AGAIN.” he shot back.
“Haha, we’ll see. Your ball, I’m on home court.” I said as I smiled and threw the ball into his chest.
“You think that lame talk is going to make me play worse?” He responded instantly.
“Naw man, I was kinda hopin’ you would play better, so you wouldn’t have to sit in that corner over there and cry.” The grin on my face grew exponentially as the words came out of my mouth.