I awoke from a terrible and odd dream thanks to the alarm which spared me the nightmares. It was happening again, these dreams have been getting worst with such ferocity that I have never known. I begin to remember all those times at school I made a fool of myself, remembered how I was yelled at for not calling the class to attention as the teacher came into the room.
"Show me some fucking respect!" I remember the man yelling with his veins bulging
Well I am sorry that I didn't call the class to attention after you entering the room literally a second after leaving it. You were yelling at us or more specifically them for being knuckleheads but how come is my fault? Just because I sit near the door does not mean I bear the responsibility of all the idiots in my class who are too busy messing around instead of actually learning. I remembered how everyone made it through the maze at the fire station our school took us to once. I remembered feeling my way through the darkness of that place listening as the other kids made it out and congratulated each other. I was the only one left and I called out saying that I was still inside and the firefighter directed me out.
I could hear them remark awful things under their breath but how couldn't they? I am a failure and that is what I always will be. I remembered a bigger kid saying "watch this" as he came behind me and shoved me to a puddle. Nobody came to pick me up just stared in pity as the boys had their laugh... Frankly I don't even know if any of this things happened the way I think they did or just twisted in my mind to the point they did not resemble reality anymore. But one thing is for sure, things like this happen to someone and they stay with you to the grave. This "people" think they were clever or funny but in reality those things stayed with me far longer than they should have. A cruel reminder of how I was viewed by others and how alone and vulnerable I was.
I can't dwell on the past or so my therapist has advised... Either way I have work today, it's almost 8:30 and I am supposed to be at work at 9:00. I open my room to reveal a living room as empty as my life, a plain television with its assortments of furniture thankfully donated to me by my parents. As I sat down and had some cereal I pondered on how it was like to be young again, I was only 22 but yet I feel childhood was a lifetime ago. To remember those nights where I would ignorantly play videogames with my brother late till the night and naively think about things that were not important such as why didn't they air my favorite cartoon that morning or if the heavy rain today meant no school.
To understand those moments are gone is the first sign of mortality and don't get me wrong I tried to live life to the fullest at least the way I wanted to. Way past when I turned 18 I was still the same as I was when I was 15, just playing my videogames going to school simply because I had to just waiting so I could get home and lock myself away in my confinements so I could lose myself in my indulgences. Eventually my parents started becoming even more and more unbearable and I had to leave so I could live on my own. It was either that or subject myself to their constant nagging of I am too lazy or worst yet how come I was an adult but have never had a girlfriend?
Worst of all, my younger brother almost as if life was laughing at me starting bringing girls home. I couldn't take it anymore, to known that me as the eldest son was outdone in pretty much everything by my own younger brother was too much of a shame to bear. He was always the better at school and grew taller than me with often people questioning which of us was really the oldest... It was too much.
I gulped down whatever food I could stomach and threw out the rest down the sink. I buttoned my uniform and left my apartment towards my car.
I finally arrived at the supermarket I worked at and greeted my supervisor. I could notice a disapproving look in his face and I braced myself for the verbal beating of the day.
"James! It's the third time this week you arrive late for work. I am not paying you to be lazy, I am paying you to be productive."
I made up some lie that I was stuck in traffic and that of course it wouldn't happen again. Of course those where all lies, in reality I was so lost in thought I had lost track of time yet again.
I was soon directed towards my post for the day and it was the job I dreaded the most, cashier. I hated interacting with so many people and seeing their flaws and of course their luck. I hated the constant bleeps from other cashiers next to me. I hated how the arrogant fat mothers let their kids touch the candy of the shelves and throwing them on the floor. Then guess who would have to pick it up? That is not all, I hated seeing the teenagers with their tattoos and they all had the same haircut almost like if they were produced by a factory copy and pasted. But I wondered, why was I the different one? Why is it that I feel like I am the only one who thinks differently? Is it all because...
The sound of a bottle hitting the floor and breaking snapped me back to reality. I looked around and realized everyone in the line was looking at me as if I was of a different species. I looked down to my legs and saw a broken milk bottle with drops of white liquid staining my dark pants. I had been so transfixed in my own world that I was putting items in the bag I had clumsily let go of the milk and shattered it.
My knees felt weak and I couldn't even let out a simple sorry... The lady looked at me and said it was ok in her southern accent but I didn't care and I knew this was it for me. Soon enough the boss gestured me to come into his office like an owner does to a dog when he pees on the carpet. The man gave me a verbal beating in that office but all I could do is look around the room and seeing his hanged awards and diplomas. His voice was mere background sound at this point all I was doing was asking myself what have I done to deserve this. Surely there must be better times ahead for me?
"Give me your nametag, James" the man commanded.
I gently placed it on the desk and walked out without saying goodbye.
As I got inside my car, I let out all the pain and sorrow I had in me out like a wild beast. I screamed and banged my steering wheel with at times my fist landing on the car horn. I sobbed and murmured to myself curses and incoherent babble trying to make sense of it all. I glanced up for just a moment as tears flowed down and I saw something that enraged me to no end. There they were, a young couple walking around the shopping district as if nothing was happening. As carelessly as the ocean while a sinking ship slid beneath its dark heartless waves.
I saw the girl pull the guys hand in any direction that caught her attention and he just held on carelessly as if walking a dog. To them this was probably a great sunny day filled with new opportunities and the possibility of intimacy and romance. But to me, this was just a perpetual torture to see the world moving along while I stayed still despising it all. It meant more of the same... Suddenly the guy pulled the girl close to him and held her by her hip and they kissed but he glanced at me. Our eyes connected for the entire duration of the kiss and that ignited a burning hatred inside of me like fire to oil.
His glance said it all
"Look at you loser, you are there miserable but I am here living my life to the fullest. But guess what, this isn't nothing new to me. To me, this is just Tuesday..."
His smug face was like a taunt, it was as if he was looking through me to all eternity and all I could do is watch him take something I never had. My right hand jerked to the gear stick and pulled it to drive ready to charge at that brat who has never known pain. But I couldn't, I held my hand tightly with the other grinding my teeth until they left the scene into some store. Eventually I calmed down and I let go of my hand and I then stood there sitting down alone with my thoughts.
"Was I really about to kill that man?" I whispered to myself
I have never considered murder in my life and probably never will but given the right circumstances and the right attitude. Even saints can break and that proved to me that the way I was going would be the end of me. My therapists never understood me, how could they? Have they felt what I felt? Have they lived the life I have lived? No, they have not and is stupid to think boomers that are so called "psychologist" could ever unravel something they don't understand. No matter who they were, no matter how different they pretended to be they always resulted into prescribing me meds "to help me". All this pills ever did for me was make me feel foggy and weird, as if I was detached from my own feelings.
They are all the same
After all of that I managed to drive to my apartment but at times I pondered at the idea of driving straight into incoming traffic and ending it all. But I couldn't, I didn't want to be responsible of ending someone else's life just because I want to end mines. I tried to sheer myself up with a few happy memories of fun videogame moments or the odd time I said something witty at work and everyone laughed. But did it really matter? Was this really a life worth living I asked myself as I took the elevator to my room.
"I am not sure I can take it anymore Mary" I said to one of my close friends on the internet as I sat down on my chair.
I met Mary in one of the numerous internet chat rooms I have inhabited through my life because on the internet I always found it easier to make friends. Most people who spend their day on the computer usually have pain inside of them. Pain I sympathized with, being in a place filled with people you don't know but understand each others problems is such a surreal feeling. The internet brought me comfort, a port in the storm so to speak. That is how I got to know the user "Kremert300" or as I got to know her, Mary. I connected with her in a way I haven't with anyone in a long time, perhaps it was the possibility that she was a real girl filled me with life but I do not know.
"James, you can't give up. If you give up you lose any chance of things getting better." she typed
"I thank you for your help I really do but I have been at deaths door for years now. My life is nothing but cruel bitter hatred and I am afraid of what I will become if I put my guard down for just a moment. I... I don't even feel alive anymore" I shakingly replied back
"James, did you get my package?" she said
"Yes, I saw it by my door when I returned from work. Its smaller than I thought and very light." I replied
"Open it," said Mary
I unboxed it with tired eyes from crying for as long as I did and beneath the protective foam, I found an unlabeled white pill bottle.
"I come to you for help in my time of need but yet you send me pills? How will this help me?" I angrily replied back
"Please, try to understand that I want to help you. This are not regular drugs but believe me when I say they will help you." she replied back
"What do you mean by not regular drugs?" I asked
"You will see for yourself soon enough but you have to trust me... I was once like you know, you remember my backstory yes? So anyways, I started listening that is what set me free." she said
"Started listening? To who? I asked
"I cannot say but you have to believe me, let me help you to see" she said
I reluctantly agreed and opened the container revealing one single black pill. I placed it on my tongue and gulped some water. Immediately I started feeling fuzzy and my head started feeling dizzy... I dropped the glass of water in my hand and collapsed into my bed.