Chapter 1 The End's Beginning and Chapter 2

Chapter 1 The End’s Beginning1

I was happy. At least I was happy now. There was a peaceful tranquility in the night. A couple stars shined in the sky and the city lights helped blind out nature’s beauty like a mask. Not the first time the city of Baton Rouge let something slip out of sight. The pond I could barely see but towards the middle of it, the water acted like a mirror bouncing its transcended beams into the glorious heavens above. I sat on the bench of the brutally disfigured dock and sat there as if waiting for somebody to whisper a secret in my ear. Instead, we sat cold silent as we watched our cigarette smoke fade magically into the night.
“Well my parents will be coming to pick me up soon- better go brush my teeth- and ya- my teeth and um- air out my clothes.” I stumbled up while still clutching the vodka in my left hand. My right hand still clutched desperately to a fading cigarette dieing not unlike the moon that was now hiding behind a sprinkle of clouds. I was wasted, but I had an excuse. Like- so few people do. I was shit face drunk and the two friends that sat beside me were also drunk. We were equally… what is that word that everybody likes to use now….oh yes I remember…. “emo”. I guess to most people we were a sorry sight. I guess I couldn’t blame them. I get out of the psychiatric ward a couple months ago and I’m already “heading down the wrong path.” I did not give a damn where the path leads as long as there was a bar at the end.
“Ya’ll lets all go inside,” Seth said. He was leaning against Bonnie who had her arms comfortably tucked around her knees and head lay loosely on top.
“Okay,” she said purposely slurring the words, although, her liquored up voice would have been sufficient
The two of them walked awkwardly after me.
“Is this dog shit?” I asked as I managed to step over it.
“No- my mom comes out here to use the bathroom,” Seth said with a half laugh. I let out an elongated laugh.
“I don’t know- your moms pretty weird Seth,” Bonnie smiled, “It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Nor I,” I said bluntly. We all laughed. No, not that funny but liquor really add’s happiness- a delusion.
I went to the bathroom and despite how disgusting the bathroom was, I cleaned myself up. I looked into the mirror briefly and was disgusted by what I saw. A drunk teenager16- nearly 17, bloodshot eyes, and an eerie look spread across my face. I did not want to become this. I went to the toilet to throw up. No, it wasn’t all alcohol but mainly nerves. You see, I am severely depressed and anxious. Dr. Detrinis wouldn’t let me on any addictive medicines and boy would he be later surprised…2

~ ~ ~3

I pulled up to my house in a car. No problems driving- I sobered up a little before I got into the car. I can do some stupid things but I tried to fight it- sometimes. I walked into the house as steady as I could, praying they wouldn’t smell the liquor or cigarettes. My mom can always tell when I am drinking. I needed to get by her. I passed the two of them with a shrug, which now reminds me of the comic’s “Zits”.
“Great I got by- I got away with it. Excellent!” They were too engrossed in the movie they were watching.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
“Yes,” I called out a little worried but I knew they hadn’t suspected anything- I was fine.
“Max just want to give you a hug goodnight,” my mom said.
“I walked to the door and held in my breath to limit the amount of liquor they could smell on my breath- just incase. She hugged me and wouldn’t let go.
“You have been drinking. Alan- Max has been drinking ,” She shouted out to my father. I slammed my door. I was manipulated. and now I felt completely stupid. She wanted to give me a hug to smell me- “that damn bitch I muttered out loud.” Couldn’t they just let me go my own way? Sadly, I knew that path was self destruction- I knew this. Turning on my music, bright eyes, the most depressing band I have ever heard, and lay on my bed. I thought about Seth and how lucky he was.
Seth was one of my best friends. I met him in a hospital psychiatric unit where we spent a month or two. I grew to like him .He was clean shaven, at least now, and he had long hair that led to his shoulders. He was a typical teenage guy but what set him apart was his dressing. He always wore crummy clothes- on purpose of course. Shirts that were torn, pants that were messed up, it is the way he liked it. I sensed that as he grew older he would change. Boy was I wrong. He wanted me to put his real name in the book, but I knew better- and boy was a right. I usually hate when I’m right- I never have positive thoughts
Picking up the phone I dialed Seth’s phone number. I told him what happened and now my parents were gona be pisted off.
I fell asleep
~ ~ ~
My dad knocked on the door. It was early morning and I had my blinds down and door locked. I didn’t know the time.
“Max open your door,” my dad screamed. I got up and staggered towards the door still half asleep, only to open the door and find a grim looking father.
“Max you are no longer allowed to drive over there. Your not suppose to mix liquor with your medicines either. What were you thinking!? We will drive you over there but you can’t take the car. Do you realize that if you get into a bad wreck- I would be held responsible. They would hold me responsible! I understood what he was saying- trying to cover his own ass- who gives a damn about me. I have always questioned my parent’s love for me. I was an awful kid or perhaps I was just rebellious. Either way my dad seemed to care more about himself then me. I don’t blame him- I would do the same. Who would want me as a son? I lay back on my bed. I missed the psychiatric hospital I was in Yes, I actually loved the hospital.... Getting a stack of my journals I had covere page by page with blue ink; I read through them with tears. I missed Ms. Olivia- she was my best friend- she was my mother- I loved her. She was such a wonderful person and if I had millions of dollars I would give some to her. She was the best one on the hospital staff, Yet, I had to- I must- I need to move pass it. Yet, as I continued to read my journals I became toughly depressed. I wrote down everything that happened in that hospital and in detail- it makes me sad to this day. Taking out some whisky I had hid in my room I began to drink.
As I continued to read through my journals I came across a page about persecutions. This was something I would have to live with my entire life and I feel sorry for the ignorant people who abused me for my sexuality. They were close minded- they were the sick ones. And yet, I didn’t feel comfortable about my sexuality- I felt like I was a martyr- being nailed to a cross. Leave me alone! Let me live my life. Must I be persecuted for something I had no control over! That’s right… born with… o shutup and get use to it- people- many people are born with homosexual characteristics. If it were a learned behavior, why does it show up in animals? Why does it show up randomly in nature? Are you going to tell me a squirrel was sexually abused at the age of 7 weeks and grew up to be a homosexual? No, I agree, it is not always natural thing. Yes, some people pick it up through society. I don’t deny it and believe that many people choose to be gay. Nevertheless, let me be your martyr. Why don’t you shoot me right now! Kill me- I am a Goddamn FAG. I deserve to die. Why do people pick on minorities, Jews, Blacks homosexuals. We are all human or so I thought. Now- I don’t know what these people are but they are the messed up ones.--- Not me
I had a sudden urge to talk to somebody because I was feeling lonely. So, I looked at a least of friends in my mind and I came across my boyfriends name- Danny. The last time I spoke to him was before I went into the hospital, and I wanted to talk to him. Going to my secret box I opened it and took his name and number out. I dialed it and waited while I was tortured with the constant ringing. Would he pick up? Yet, before we get on with the story I have a very good short story to share4

Everyday is Like Sunday
I look at the CD he sent me and as I removed it, I dusted off the fingerprints with my T-shirt. It was about a two years old CD. I met him back when I was about fourteen. I am eighteen now and have not heard from him in many months and if I had to guess I would say he was dead now. He lived in Texas for the past year and was the most depressed human being I have ever known. When we were dating he would get in fights with me over things that did not make sense because he was coming down from Meth, and because of this- I broke up with him but never did we lose contact after our breakup.. In fact, we talked to each other quite frequently. He was one miserable kid, and I don’t think a minute went by that he was not tempted by suicide.
The last thing I received from him was this CD and a letter, which I cannot read now because it breaks my heart. No, I’m not in love with him, but I do love him, and it is now that I realize that he never gave up hope that the two of us would be together for our entire life like we had so childishly planned. It wasn’t until my current partner came along that I realized he had hidden these valiant desires from me.
After my boyfriend came along our talks grew more somber and he grew more depressed. I couldn’t ever stray from what he would want to talk about or he would explode. That is how it was- I was a captive in my own conversation. However, for him I willingly played along and let him have his way. He had such poor social skills and he bragged about his friends but I knew he had none. I wish he had, but – (let me light a smoke)--- the truth was nobody would be his friend if he paid them. He was an asshole. It took me a little while to realize this myself. Yet, I still do care for him.
Where is he now? Sometimes when I drive by homeless people on the side of the road or by the interstate I think of him and hope to God he has chosen a better life style. I haven’t gotten a call from in a long time, but I have been trying to get in contact with him. This is a bad sign, as he would always call me, and I hope to God he isn’t in a hospital. I hope to God he isn’t beneath the grass- but I know my hope- hope- it is silly. He was lost. He is lost- He is gone. I must move on
The End.5

And then came his voice loud and clear.
“Hello?”
“Danny,” I said.
“Max,” he queried back
“Yes it is me!” I said with excitement.
“Oh!” He said with a burst of enthusiasm. Danny lived a ways away and so it was nearly impossible for us getting together. Yet, despite this long distance relationship I was into it. The last conversation we had he tried to dump me but that was months ago… God knows how he feels now.
“So how are you Danny,” I asked with hesitance. I was trying to think of the right lines.
“I am good. Haven’t you wondered where I have been?” I asked
“Well- I called a few times but couldn’t reach you.”
“I went to a mental ward for a few months.”
“Oh- well how are you doing?”
“Now hearing your voice I feel fine- fine,” I paused and continued on so what exactly is our relationship now? Would you like to continue to date?
“Well, yes,” he said with an optimistic tone.
“So what have you been up too?” I asked.
“You know same old- same old- I got really mad threw my cell phone out the window.”
“Well how are you talking now-. I mean, if you don’t have a cell phone, how are talking now.
“My mom got a replacement but said she wouldn’t do it again.”
Danny was a good guy. He was also mouth watering sexy, but he had a problem with drugs. He would call me up and start screaming at me for no reason. It got so bad that I phrased my sentences very carefully. I thought about the comment over and over I always told him he was right. No, not a perfect relationship- but ya- you- I’m talking to you (reader) point me in the direction of a perfect relationship. Point being- we all have our weaknesses.
He wasn’t high this time. I could only hope he was done with drugs.
“So Danny, I asked, do you still do drugs?:
“No not hardcore drug. Of course, I smoke pot and drink, but those are not real drugs.
I kept silent
We talked about everything and anything. He has a new best friend- Emily. I was happy he was making friends. Everything was great.6


~ ~ ~
“Dad- will you take me to Seth’s house.” He looked up with me with scolding eyes.
“No drinking.”
“Fine-,” I said
“Okay go get in the car,” my dad said with hesitance. He really was a good guy and compared to my mom he was a saint. My mom always tries to no limit my abilities. She is strict, she is mean, she can be a bitch, but I still love her with all my heart. My dad on the other hand is usually the only one I talk to. He loves me. I don’t think my mom loves me. She cares about me and has a natural parental bond to me, but the difference is- my dad loves me. He has gone to long lengths just to help me and he is a great guy. If you were to walk down the street and seeing my dad’s balding gray hair, mustache, carrying a briefcase, you would never pick up how much emotional baggage he caries on him. I have really hurt him. He doesn’t think I love him but the truth is I do- - - I love him very much. At nights I lie awake thinking about my parents funeral. How people can stand there dressed in black and look upon a dead body- I can’t even imagine. I have never been to a funeral. Yet, I know the day my parents die I will rush to the casket and grab my parents- dead- begging God to bless him and I won’t let go ass I scream. In my mind I play this over and over in my mind… Grabbing- shaking- my dead mom or dad- crying. It is all my fault that they died. I have put to much stress on them. They raised me- they are my blood- although, it hasn’t happened I know that I will never get over it.
“Go get in the car,’ my dad repeated. I looked at him in a daze- I was daydreaming.
“Okay lets go,” I said. as we drove down the street towards my friends house. Seth’s house ironically was right down the road five minutes away. When he entered the psychiatric facility and we met we became great friends and it turned out we lived in the same area. Ironic, I know…
We pulled up to Seth’s house. Like I said before it had a lake but there was nothing special about the house. It was an average middle-income family. I later found out that Seth’s mom had her parents buy it for her.
~ ~ ~7

I got out of the car and my dad backed out of the driveway. I was accustomed to just walking into the house. As I entered Seth’s room I stopped suddenly. He was having sex with his girlfriend, Tuesday, or so I thought.
“Hey Tuesday and what’s up Seth.” I hadn’t seen Tuesday before but Seth told me he loved her. Seth and I were very close buddies. He told me things that I know he wouldn’t tell anybody else. I was easy to talk to I suppose and I was there with him in the hospital. So, I guess we had a unique bond.
Seth looked up- “no this is Lonny.” I immediately got was going on.
“Oh yes- Seth was telling me about some of his friends- I just- sorry- “Hurry up now,” I said with a wink and they laughed. I went to sit down on the couch. I was still unsure of what happened. Is he really doing that? I wouldn’t past him by it but I guess there was a lot more to learn about Seth and as the story continues you will find this to be true… It saddens me to think of at this moment. You (reader) will understand as we go along.
At last they came out of the room. I gave Seth a confused look as Lonny turned around and he turned his eyes and nodded. I got it right away. Seth was a highly intelligent person and we also learned each others body language which clarified things for me. I now was sure what was going on.
“So how are you Lonny my dear,” I said out loud as I turned around.
“Oh, I’m good- now that I’m here with my Seth.” She said with a shrug. “Oh my God- you’re max!” She was springing to life. “Seth told me all about you and how cool you are and you were in the psyche ward with him. And the best thing is that you/re gay and crazy!”
“I laughed, I must admit I am gay. Where I come from that’s a bad thing.”
“Well you’re here now and it is really cool,” She laid down on the couch beside me.
“Yes that is true but you know what I really wanta do to you. I wanta fuck the shit out of you. Common lets go baby,” I said jumping up and rubbing her stomache. “I’m stealing you from Seth- your mine now bitch.” We both burst out laughing. I was of course, kidding around.
“Seth is mine!” she said. I gave Seth an awkward look.
Suddenly a horn sounded.
“Okay baby that’s my ride,” Lonny said with a pout. “I got to go but I love you Seth!” A pause went by and she chimed in, “And it was great meeting you Max.”
“I love you too,” he said walking up to her and kissing her forehead. She headed toward the door after that and as it closed shut Seth and I stared at each other for a while. “Let’s go outside for a smoke,” Seth said and followed him out door which was stubborn to move as always.
“I swear to God- I am going to buy you a new door,” I said sarcastically. Seth let out a chuckle.
“Don’t know what happened to that door.”
“Anyways,” I said as I lit a cigarette. “What happened inside was very interesting. Sorry for almost messing it up.”
“It’s okay,” Seth said with a nod and blew smoke rings out of his mouth.
“So you’re having sex with Lonny but dating Tuesday?” I asked.
“Something like that,” Seth replied solemnly. “Tuesday and I haven’t really technically gotten together. I was just having sex.” Seth said. I wonder now, as I write these very words, where was his mind- where is his conscience.. Seth was a strange guy, but he was looking for everything that everybody searches for, happiness. He was just looking in all the wrong places and I was content with being depressed- accept my disabilities. Seth on the other hand, he was running and running the… well you will find out… run8


“Hey Max,” Seth said interrupting my thoughts, “I got to go AA meetings and was thinking me, you, and Tuesday could go together. I resisted the urge to correct his sentence.
“Ya sounds like it will be fun. Any liquor going to be there?” I asked jokingly. Seth laugh- “No man- but they drink coffee and water like crazy. Man- lets sneak in there and replace the water with vodka.” We both laughed at the joke.
“So when is Tuesday coming over.”
“Ya dude, I’m gona call her now. We will all go.”
~ ~ ~
Tuesday paraded through the door and she dressed just like Seth. A lot of weird necklaces, jewelry, and a colorful torn up shirt, all of which shouted, spelled, and whispered rebellion. She came and gave Seth a hug.
“Hey,” she said in an almost soothing voice.
I glanced away for a moment as I remembered Lonny. The two of them kissed then she shifted her awkward gaze to me.
“Hi, I’m Max,” I said with a comical bow.
“Tuesday,” she said with a smile.
“Yes, I have heard a lot about you Tuesday. He really is fond of you. He says you’re his second favorite bitch.”
“O’ am I now-” Tuesday said with a smile and kissed Seth on lips, “Anyway to make it to number one.” We were all humored
“You have any liquor Seth,” I asked generically.
“Well- yes but I don’t think it is good to go to an AA meeting drunk.” I gave a disappointed look but knew my liquor- my glucose- was coming later.
Suddenly the door swung open and in entered a middle age, gray hair- well, Seth’s mom. She was such a nice person and how she wound up with these kids I don’t know. Seth’s younger brother entered in behind his mom. He was following Seth’s footsteps and if I were to guess he too would have a drug problem. Yet, who am I to say such a thing. I will- I mean- had my share of drug problems.
“Hey Max- Tuesday,” his mom greeted us as she entered the living room. “You ready to go Seth?”
“Ya mom, Tuesday and Max are going to go with me.”
“Ah okay- well lets get going,” She said with a smile. “Times a wasting
We piled into her old Mercedes. When I say old, I mean old. I highly doubt she bought it new. She didn’t have that type of money. It was just an old, junky, but yet reliable car. Seth’s mom is so sweet I thought as we backed out of the driveway and headed to the AA meeting. I was a little nervous- never been to anything like this.
~ ~ ~
Some old stinky guy- overweight- asked me for a cigarette. I did not hesitate. Tuesday wasn’t taking an immediate liking to me. She seemed to have everything mapped out- how it is- and how it was going to be.
“Okay lets get started,” A voice from inside the building shouted. We took our seats as I looked around cautiously. Nobody near our age was there. I was sixteen at the time and these people were well over 30- most of them. I don’t blame them for drinking. I would drink myself to death if I looked like some of these people.
“Hey you know what I am going to do,” I whispered in his ear. “I’m going to stand up and make up a story for AA.”
“Dude that would be hilarious- do it,”
“I will,” I whispered back. “I’ll do it Seth..”9

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Chapter 2
Helpless29


Before we continue let me tell you a little about alcohol. It is a very addictive and seductive- I should know. I got drunk all the time and always kept some hardcore liquor in my room. I would drive anywhere for a drink. My friends and I would manipulate people to buy us liquor. I was never addicted to the substance but I was trying to escape my life. Now, many people would call that a definition of an alcoholic. No, I was not addicted- I was just momentarily trying to escape from everything around me. Some times I drank around the clock and other times I would drink once a week. It was based primarily on how situations were going at my house. You must understand that a child’s home is its identification. The home life is a very important part of a human beings life. It shapes how we view, learn, and go through life. Do I blame my parents for the pain I have been through? No- not at all- it is all me but I know they shaped my reality. They are not responsible for my actions but hell be gone if they didn’t influence my actions. My dad would always tell me that my writing was no good. I need to go to college for several years for my writing to be any good. He would always ask, “do you want my opinion or did you just want me to read it?” Of course, I would say I want your opinion and he told me my writing just wasn’t good enough. Was not good enough… At the age of nine I was sending things to publishers. My dad was determined to teach me a lesson. I would never be good enough. And you know what- IT never is good enough. I obsess over my writing to no end and I always feel like it is a piece of shit. Ya, I’ll admit my dad sometimes looked at me with a grim smile, “its not bad but I could- I SHOULD do much better.” Thus, I compare myself to the best writers in the history in the world and even when I am satisfied it is as good as there work is- it still isn’t good enough. I want to be perfect and in writing that is something authors will never be able to achieve and this frustrates me to no ends. This is just, shall we say, an explosion of my emotions:30


I’m Almost There31

Look me in the eyes you will see no tears,
Come gather my soul for there are no fears,
My whole life I don’t think I’ve ever been alive,
So tell me if I am really taking a dive,
Dig me a grave.32

I take my pills but my mind won’t rest,
And each day I give it my best,
But I want to fly away- disappear,
No more worries- not a care,
vanish.33

One of these days I’ll carry out my plan,
For my whole life I have ran,
Never getting anywhere- never able to get away,
In a coffin I shall stay,
Dig me a grave.34

No, I am not that old,
But my years have been gold,
Rich with wisdom and pain,
A demon tortured in fires and flame.
Let me die.
35

If there were one word before I stood up in front of everyone that would explain everything that word would be “death”. I didn’t give a damn what others thought of me, and I didn’t give a damn as I stood up. Had a buss crashed into me and I had five minutes to live my words would be “finally”. I wanted to die and thought about it often- an unending sleep perhaps? Yet, I couldn’t kill myself. I guess it is kind of like getting a shot. You know it’s coming and then it is all over so fast. Well, I never have been fond of shots. On the other hand, a buss coming from nowhere slams into me, it would be sudden- no time to think. It is the thinking that keeps me alive.
Now returning to the beginning of the end of chapter one- I had no idea what I was going to say. I was about to stand up and make up some story. It felt like I was drowning. There was no time to think- I mentioned I was going to do it as an idea and then pressured to stand up and as I stood up I looked around at all the curious faces. I knew there were stories behind each and every face. All those eyes stared at me as I calculated what I was going to say.
“You know-”- I said those words to buy me more time. “I use to be an alcoholic. I would go from night to night drinking away my pain.” I paused to look around and caught the glimpse of Seth and Tuesday staring at me with curious eyes. “Please understand I was victim- I was enslaved to liquor. I drank vanilla extract if I had to. Finally, it got so bad they sent me away to a hospital where I had to deal with the problem. The hospital wasn’t fun but I learned my lesson and to this day I don’t drink. I have no parents- I live on the streets but to this day I don’t drink. I’m getting my life straightened. I spent 8 months in a psyche hospital and now I am turning to glory!” I stopped smiled and sat down. There was a burst of applause. It was kinda true- I did go to a hospital- but not because of liquor. Yes, it was all a lie but I convinced them.
“Not bad,” Seth whispered in my ear. A guy sitting across from me saw me laugh and gave me an unpleasant look. I think he knew I made the story up. What’s wrong with a little fiction? I would say that last sentence then but now I regret taking up valuable time from people who have real problems.36

~ ~ ~37

Now I am neutral on the topics in the book. Do not infer that I think a certain way just based on a sentence. I am telling my story in all truth but my opinions are not meant to be taken as facts but merely that- opinions. The objective of this is to make the reader think. I am not here to sway you. I am not here to change you. You must do it yourself if you see fit and I am merely trying to tell a story- I want you to change your mind on your own- if you see fit.
~ ~ ~
After the AA meeting we jetted. Went straight home and looked for liquor. We were young and it wasn’t easy to get liquor. We walked a lot- from house- to house, Tuesday, Seth and me. Finally, one of Seth’s older friends came through and we got drunk. Tuesday had to go home and Seth and I wandered out into the night. Really, we didn’t know where we were walking, but nevertheless, it was exciting. We were walking on a major intersection and cars flew by in blurs. Some honked at us as we stumbled into the road. Sure, we could have been killed but at that point I didn’t really care. Neither did Seth. Finally we stumbled into a park and Seth fell on the ground. I was to drunk to notice at first but when I saw him I stumbled over to him. “Are you ok?” I asked.
He immediately started to throw up liquor.
“Oh God-” I said. Seth, “are you going to need me to call someone out here to help you. I don’t want you to die.” He shook his head no as he threw up more vomit. I looked away at the park. It was peaceful- if only I could feel this way all the time.- all the time. And NO- I’m not addicted to alcohol- I’m not- am I? Liquor just makes you feel so good. It is a wonderful feeling. For a moment I even forgot I was with Seth as I stared out into the dark- drunk as hell. I reverted my attention to Seth. “Are you okay?”
He wiped his mouth and looked at me saying, “Ya I’m good.”
I was to drunk to think it twice- he was fine. We walked through the park for a little while before we headed home. Unfortunately, I spilled liquor on my clothes. I needed to hide this from my parents as best as possible. It was 8:00 and they were picking me up at 9:00. It would take at least 30 minutes to get back to Seth’s house. So, we walked home. O’ beautiful summer. Next year I will be a junior- just a little bit longer. I wanted to go to college. I will go to college. I have such expensive taste that it is impossible for me not to make a good living. Then again, my parents expect me to fail and that infuriates me. It makes me depressed but more determined to succeed. All parents struggle with their children- I am aware of this. It is not easy to raise a kid but the small rewards you get along the way are often worth it.
We got back to Seth’s house and I cleaned myself up just in time when the doorbell rang.
“Oh great- my mom came with my dad- Jesus,” I said, “ They are trying to see if I drink.”
“Don’t worry you will be fine man. Take care and see you tomorrow. Peace.” Seth said with a drunken smile.
I walked to the car and got in. It didn’t take thirty seconds when my mom said, “You smell like liquor.”
“Mother I did not drink.”
“Well you smell like liquor,”
“Mom somebody spilled some on me but that doesn’t mean I drank,” I lied.
“Max I am so disappointed in you,” my mom said as her eyes swelled with tears. Although, I didn’t know this at the time- hurting my mom- it would eventually ruin my relationship- it would hurt.
“Max I don’t know what were going to do with you,” my mom said shaking her head.
“Please believe me,” I said as convincingly as possible.
“Well I’ll tell you one thing you are not going to be driving that car for a long time.”
I sat quietly after this. I was in the backseat next to my brother. Ironically, the thing I felt the worse about is somewhat surprising to most people. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, and pure quilt for having my brother see me like this. I was a bad role model for him. This upset me so much.
When I got home I went straight to my room, turned on Bright Eyes and started writing. I had been thinking about sending my poetry to Connen Obrisit but I still haven’t. At that moment I felt good but knew when this liquor wore off I would still feel absolutely awful.
I didn’t want to talk to any friends or be bothered. You know, After getting out of the hospital I got back in contact with my friends but for some reason I didn’t feel good talking to them. Perhaps it was because I missed several months of their lives. I don’t really know. All I wanted then was for the darkness to swallow me whole.38


Dancing in the Night39

Night,
Just born,
And I am worn,
Nightmares
Surge in my head,40

I toss about,
I wish to shout,
Scream,
A horrible noise.41

And I wish I could know,
Why my brain does go,
To these dark deep,
Places it does seek.42

Night grabs me,
Cannot see,
chocks,
cough,
Pray,
That the day
Light,
Will soon be on its way.43

My eyes get blood shot,
Fight,
Fought,
To get out of these delusions,
Ill Confusion,
Illusions
that dance in my head.44

That dance in my head45

As I sat there I wrote about my day- a real mundane day by most standards and yet here I was making ink into words, a page into pages, and pages into sections. –
“Today was hell…” it read. I usually described my day shortly and went into some semi philosophical question or just mere observations. I never dated or rarely dated my things because I never seemed to know the day… I still don’t…
“I and others (going to) do things all the time just to prove a point. It doesn’t have to be something dangerous, but, a lot of times the only way to get people’s attention is by doing exactly that- something dangerous…” And so I ramble. My very first journal entry was written when I was 12 years old. It goes, “what shall ever become of me. I have more problems than stars in the sky, but what can I do. But I know and fear that something in me is broken- a part that is fatal and will burden my future life. All I want is to become a successful writer…” And it goes on. I actually have journals before this but they were school journals and we all know those don’t count. I say that with a wink… Yes a writer is what I wanted to be a long time ago when childhood was my friend… now I am aging into nothingness…
Tomorrow would be my first day of school and God was I not looking forward to that. I have been to just about every snobby private school in driving distance and all that was left were public schools. I had been kicked out of the last one I had been to. People had rumors going on about me for the longest time.
I was well educated already and did not have high expectation of “Broadmoor High”. I thanked God that he gave me the chance to learn and get an education prior to this shitty education. The truth is the public schools don’t teach shit. Louisiana is known for it’s education problems and that aint no joke. I knew it was going to be stupid and I dreaded the next day with my whole heart. Why did this have to happen to me? I know- I know- at least I’m not in some third world country eating God knows what. Yet, my mental problems did not make things particularly easy and worse of all I was going to have to walk home from school. I was going to be such a loser.
~ ~ ~
I was awoken from my father pounding on the door. For some reason Louisiana public schools started out at 6:30 or 7:00- I don’t remember but it was insane. I rolled over on my back and said, “I’m Fucking awake! Stop banging on the God Damn door!” Except, I kept the cursing in my head. (mind if we take a smoke break? I’ll be back in five minutes)… now where was I… ah yes, school.
I got into the car with my father and we drove about 30 seconds when around the corner appeared what looked like some penitentiary but I held my tongue from my dad- not that I didn’t feel like complaining- I was just to fucking nervous. Those are just the two words I would use too. Fucking nervous… What’s that? - You have a problem with my language… seriously get a life or rather- a fucking life.
I got out of the car and wandered upon the massive property. Unfortunately, Broadmoor was like the only public school with a uniform and so I fit in quite easily if you didn’t notice me stumbling around and looking down at a strip of paper. (me stumbling around? Go figure) I stopped to ask where my first class was at to what looked like a competent girl who was impeccably well dressed- following my clothing style.
“Do you know where B23 is?” I asked.
“That is in the big building upstairs.” With that piece of information I wandered off. There were a lot of big buildings but only one of them had a second floor so I headed for it.
“B12” I muttered out loud as I walked from room to room and then there it was. I entered the room with a sigh of relief and took a seat behind a pretentious young girl. She was beautiful but she had a bent nose and every time I think of her- that nose appears under a microscope in my brain.
The first look I got at the teacher, and I knew she was bitch. She dressed in nice clothes- to nice- and it was a little bit of a young outfit for her age, but who am I to judge? She could come here nude for all I cared- I control my eyes.
“Common class- lets get started.” She yelled after the annoying bell sounded in the hall. She walked to the door just as the last few people entered. My eyes traveled to a hot boy who I never got the pleasure to know his name. He was so cute and I found myself staring awkwardly at him when other people noticed it too. I stopped.
One other thing I noticed was that there were a lot of black people. In all my private schools I went to there were only one black kid and he didn’t act black and I mean that with no offence. The African Americans who talked in the hallway- I couldn’t understand a word they said. They were so different. Our state supports segregation and was trying to make the schools proportional in racial fields. Yet, it might please the fat cats in Washington and a couple moms but the truth is the black people hung out with the blacks, the Asians hung out with the other Asians and the white people stuck together. It was as segregated as it ever has been. What is the solution? Well, to tell you the truth- nobody can fix this problem… It will take evolution. As time progresses we melt in America’s so called “melting pot”. All it takes is time and we will all bind together.
Another thing that bothered me is that I could not tell one black person apart to another. I always felt embarrassed and racist for this feeling until my friend told me an Asian guy came to America and said “All Americans look alike.” Now I understand- I just never had spent time around black people and it was a natural reaction. You must get use to seeing them and it will all eventually come together.
“Okay, were going to have a test today,” Ms. Headloom said and continued with a condemning look as if she were a witch looking for children to boil in her stew. “Everybody put away your stuff- slide it under the desk. No cheating. You know what happens to cheaters.”
“Mam,” I said out loud.
“Oh, yes Max… I’ll get to you in a minute- hold on.”
She passed out the tests and I was summoned forward. Not sure if I should kneel, or bow, I decided to shake her hand.
“You need to read this book,” she said frankly.
“Okay- can I have two weeks.”
“One week would be more like it,” she said.
I frowned and said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Here is a worksheet for you to do while the others take the test. I want it turned in at the end of hour.”
“Okay,” I said hesitantly.
“Did you get my work I did while I was in the hospital” I asked.
“Yes I did- it was fine- now go sit at your desk.” I smiled grimly at her to show her I found her intimidation amusing but I was bluffing. She scared the hell at me.

I didn’t know it then but this room would be the beginning of an end.46

The Final Scene47

In the final scene,
There is finally true love,
In the final scene,
Happiness is gotten,
Ill things forgotten,
In the final scene.48

Shall we fast forward to the end?
Take this life for a spin,
For the final scene,
Shall wean,
Me off my painkillers,
Shall cut me out of this depression,
Will end this recession,
This endless misery.49

In the final scene,
I am happy with you, I am rich,
My life I did stitch,
Into this glory,
Into this story,
Into this final scene,
And keep a keen eye on me,
As I twirl around the stage,
Spotlight on my shoes,
Watching their sly moves,
In the final scene.
50