I stood there on her porch for a few moments, just letting everything sink
in. My stomach moaned of malnutrition, and I was becoming accustomed with
the baseball-size lump that formed in my throat. I let out a sad laugh, my
lip quivered and my body was shaking from the light breeze hitting my sweat-
drenched shirt. I absentmindedly made my way back to the curb, my eyes
focused on my skateboard lying in the grass. I leaned over with a grunt,
and held it in my hands. I took a closer look and saw that just the kingpin
which was supporting the truck had split down the middle. I could probably
take the time to fix, but I could always just get a new one.
Wait, what was I talking about? My relationships with Summer and Anna were fucked and all I can think about is my stupid skateboard?!
My teeth cracked beneath the pressure of my clenched jaw. I had this feeling of complete helplessness that twisted my stomach in knots. I felt like screaming and kicking like a leashed toddler in Macys. I felt like someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest and dangled it just above my reach. I felt utterly alone, and I did the last thing I would ever think of doing at a time like this.
Bouts of empty, harsh, maniacal laughter poured out of my mouth. It was actually all quite humorous; my life turning into shit an all. I stopped pretty quickly at the thought, my grin faded, and my rapid heartbeat grew with anger. I closed my eyes tightly, and I could feel myself start to tear up. No, I wouldn't cry. I choked down that fucking lump lodged in my throat, held the skateboard at the nose, lifted it high into the air, and bought the center of it down, hard against the curb. It made a thunderous slapping noise, which echoed so loudly that it made the dogs of Newport cry.
To my surprise it barely made a scratch but obviously I wasn't thinking too clearly at the time. I brought it back and slammed it again. This skateboard was everything I was and I wanted it destroyed. I smashed it over and over for god only knows how long and how many times. Now I was making real damage and it felt good. I swung it around and hit the light post near me; I jumped at the sound, and plowed the skateboard into the curb chaotically again and again until something big tackled me to the pavement.
I scrambled to my feet, searching for my attacker, and meeting him face to face.
"Luke, Wh-what're doing here?" I asked out of breath.
"Me? What are you doing, Cohen?" He said with droopy eyes centered at the trashed board in my hands, while his left foot swung back to met his right.
"You're bleedin`, man." He stated, looking fairly uncomfortable with my behavior.
Was Luke Ward scared of me?
I gazed down at my shaky hands, and saw that they were in fact bleeding. I dropped the board onto the ground, and curled my fingers into my palms, only making the slices the loose wood and grip tape had made sting.
"Why are you here?" I inquired calmly with a deep raspy voice and for a moment there I felt bigger and stronger then him.
"I drove Norland home. He was so shitfaced." He explained with a small chuckle, while his hands tossed around in his pockets as if he were searching for change. I could detect that he was a bit nervous.
"I was just on my way home when I see this kid going postal in the middle of the street..."He continued, "I would have just said "Screw it" and kept on going... but... uh... you were in my way." He finished with a laugh.
Typical...
"Ah..." I replied, rapping my arms around myself tightly. God, it was cold.
"So, uh, are you, um, okay here then?" He asked after clearing his throat. He sounded as uncomfortable asking the question as I felt hearing it.
"Yeah, I'm good, man." I nodded, kicking some pebbles around.
"Cool." He responded quickly, bobbing his head also. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked back to his still running truck, hoped in, and drove off with Seger blaring.
I suddenly felt drained. I picked up the board beneath me and to my surprise it finally snapped. I grabbed the two pieces and tossed them into our trashcan before dragging my worn down body back to the house.
I crawled up the stairs, dodging all the spots that I knew were creaky. I didn't even bother undressing when I collapsed onto my bed. My wrist ached, my stomach cried, and the wounds on my hands throbbed to the beat of Pedro the Lion, playing ever-so-quietly in the background. My eyes fluttered shut, and my body relaxed, and I let myself sort of recap the day. I didn't like most of it so I just fast forwarded until 10 minutes ago with Luke.
Luke...
Luke had seen me in my fit of crazed rage...
He would tell everyone...
He would tell Ryan!!
OH GOD!!
I leapt from my bed in horror, and darted for the phone. I was in mid-dial when I realized that I didn't even have his number. Marissa did!! Wait... it was three am, I couldn't call her, I bothered her enough night.
What should I do? What should I do?
I paced my room frantically, racking my tired brain for some sort of a solution. My body was wide-awake but my eyelids felt heavier then my heart was. I nearly burned a trail of worry into the carpet when I finally got an idea.
True, I didn't have Luke's number, but I did, however, knew where he lived. I would stay up the rest of the night, all that was left of it anyway, and go over to his house at a reasonable time. I would then plead for him to keep my insanity under wraps and offer him whatever he wanted. Now I could only pray he has some sort of compassion.
I let out a sigh, and wiped the sweat forming on my brow. I went to my dresser, and took out my beloved Fruit Stripes pack, yanking out a random favor, and letting the Peachy goodness rule my mouth. I walked over to my door, opened it up, and left my room where my oh-so-toasty and comfy bed was calling to me.
Wait, what was I talking about? My relationships with Summer and Anna were fucked and all I can think about is my stupid skateboard?!
My teeth cracked beneath the pressure of my clenched jaw. I had this feeling of complete helplessness that twisted my stomach in knots. I felt like screaming and kicking like a leashed toddler in Macys. I felt like someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest and dangled it just above my reach. I felt utterly alone, and I did the last thing I would ever think of doing at a time like this.
Bouts of empty, harsh, maniacal laughter poured out of my mouth. It was actually all quite humorous; my life turning into shit an all. I stopped pretty quickly at the thought, my grin faded, and my rapid heartbeat grew with anger. I closed my eyes tightly, and I could feel myself start to tear up. No, I wouldn't cry. I choked down that fucking lump lodged in my throat, held the skateboard at the nose, lifted it high into the air, and bought the center of it down, hard against the curb. It made a thunderous slapping noise, which echoed so loudly that it made the dogs of Newport cry.
To my surprise it barely made a scratch but obviously I wasn't thinking too clearly at the time. I brought it back and slammed it again. This skateboard was everything I was and I wanted it destroyed. I smashed it over and over for god only knows how long and how many times. Now I was making real damage and it felt good. I swung it around and hit the light post near me; I jumped at the sound, and plowed the skateboard into the curb chaotically again and again until something big tackled me to the pavement.
I scrambled to my feet, searching for my attacker, and meeting him face to face.
"Luke, Wh-what're doing here?" I asked out of breath.
"Me? What are you doing, Cohen?" He said with droopy eyes centered at the trashed board in my hands, while his left foot swung back to met his right.
"You're bleedin`, man." He stated, looking fairly uncomfortable with my behavior.
Was Luke Ward scared of me?
I gazed down at my shaky hands, and saw that they were in fact bleeding. I dropped the board onto the ground, and curled my fingers into my palms, only making the slices the loose wood and grip tape had made sting.
"Why are you here?" I inquired calmly with a deep raspy voice and for a moment there I felt bigger and stronger then him.
"I drove Norland home. He was so shitfaced." He explained with a small chuckle, while his hands tossed around in his pockets as if he were searching for change. I could detect that he was a bit nervous.
"I was just on my way home when I see this kid going postal in the middle of the street..."He continued, "I would have just said "Screw it" and kept on going... but... uh... you were in my way." He finished with a laugh.
Typical...
"Ah..." I replied, rapping my arms around myself tightly. God, it was cold.
"So, uh, are you, um, okay here then?" He asked after clearing his throat. He sounded as uncomfortable asking the question as I felt hearing it.
"Yeah, I'm good, man." I nodded, kicking some pebbles around.
"Cool." He responded quickly, bobbing his head also. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked back to his still running truck, hoped in, and drove off with Seger blaring.
I suddenly felt drained. I picked up the board beneath me and to my surprise it finally snapped. I grabbed the two pieces and tossed them into our trashcan before dragging my worn down body back to the house.
I crawled up the stairs, dodging all the spots that I knew were creaky. I didn't even bother undressing when I collapsed onto my bed. My wrist ached, my stomach cried, and the wounds on my hands throbbed to the beat of Pedro the Lion, playing ever-so-quietly in the background. My eyes fluttered shut, and my body relaxed, and I let myself sort of recap the day. I didn't like most of it so I just fast forwarded until 10 minutes ago with Luke.
Luke...
Luke had seen me in my fit of crazed rage...
He would tell everyone...
He would tell Ryan!!
OH GOD!!
I leapt from my bed in horror, and darted for the phone. I was in mid-dial when I realized that I didn't even have his number. Marissa did!! Wait... it was three am, I couldn't call her, I bothered her enough night.
What should I do? What should I do?
I paced my room frantically, racking my tired brain for some sort of a solution. My body was wide-awake but my eyelids felt heavier then my heart was. I nearly burned a trail of worry into the carpet when I finally got an idea.
True, I didn't have Luke's number, but I did, however, knew where he lived. I would stay up the rest of the night, all that was left of it anyway, and go over to his house at a reasonable time. I would then plead for him to keep my insanity under wraps and offer him whatever he wanted. Now I could only pray he has some sort of compassion.
I let out a sigh, and wiped the sweat forming on my brow. I went to my dresser, and took out my beloved Fruit Stripes pack, yanking out a random favor, and letting the Peachy goodness rule my mouth. I walked over to my door, opened it up, and left my room where my oh-so-toasty and comfy bed was calling to me.