Buyin` a Oneway Ticket Out Of My Mind
Hot Streak stared at the wall, his mind blank. He hated himself. Just himself. He never hated Static. Or Gear. Always himself. For the way he turned out, for the way he was, for everything. He smiled, thinking: Nobody needs me. Not my parents, not my buddies. Still life goes on in the city even though I've lost everything. He wanted to change. But something in his nature wouldn't let him.
"I never needed reason to reason with my mind. I can see the future and today is a good day to die," he quoted under his breath.
Suicide had always occured to him. It occured again as he walked out of his home and into the bright sun. But he could never bring himself to do it. That one time with Static had been his only chance to help him. He owed it to the guy.
"How did it come to this?" he asked no-one in particular.
"I dunno. You tell me."
Hot Streak turned to find Static floating on his disk a few feet above him. His eyes narrowed and he just turned and walked away. Just keep cool. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt anybody. Not like he had done once already. Static stared at Hot Streaks back. He hadn't caused any disasters in days. Something was wrong.
"Hot Streak, is there something wrong man?"
Hot Streak kept his mouth shut and just shook his head. Emptyness consumed him. All he could do was continue to force himself to belive that there was nothing wrong and maybe it would all dissapate. But he knew that it was the child part of him that wanted that.
"You need to talk to someone if there's something wrong. It just might help."
Hot Streak stopped and turned his head toward Static. He allowed himself a sadistic smile, in spite of his feelings.
"Sure. When I feel like I truly need it I just might listen to you. But not now," he replied, looking down. "This is something I need to do on my own."
He continued his walk down the road toward the cemetary. He stared across it from the gate.
"Been a while since I was last here."
Static stared at Hot Streak again. "Why would you be here in the first place?"
He gave Static a sad smile. "`Cause my mom died. Well, actually she killed herself. Took to much asprin at once. Got drugged. You know. Been three years. Three."
Hot Streak picked his way across the field toward a solitary headstone. The name had chipped away slightly and it was dusty and untaken care of. The young red head sighed and bowed.
The next day Hot Streak sat in class for once, tapping his pencil. Character Ed sucked.
"Francis, do you have any words of wisdom?"
He thought for a minute. "The longer one holds onto a memory, the longer they live in the past. The sweeter the memory, the deeper the meaning. But as long as revenge exist, let the sorrow flow."
Everyone stared in shock at him. But he wasn't finished.
"Let's let go of the past. Hold on to what's now and what awaits. There's no point in dwelling in self-pity or regret," he finished.
The teacher nodded. "Words of wisdom beyond the years."
Hot Streak lowered his head. That's what he had to do. Let go of the past. Hold onto the present. And see what awaits.
Hot Streak stared at the wall, his mind blank. He hated himself. Just himself. He never hated Static. Or Gear. Always himself. For the way he turned out, for the way he was, for everything. He smiled, thinking: Nobody needs me. Not my parents, not my buddies. Still life goes on in the city even though I've lost everything. He wanted to change. But something in his nature wouldn't let him.
"I never needed reason to reason with my mind. I can see the future and today is a good day to die," he quoted under his breath.
Suicide had always occured to him. It occured again as he walked out of his home and into the bright sun. But he could never bring himself to do it. That one time with Static had been his only chance to help him. He owed it to the guy.
"How did it come to this?" he asked no-one in particular.
"I dunno. You tell me."
Hot Streak turned to find Static floating on his disk a few feet above him. His eyes narrowed and he just turned and walked away. Just keep cool. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt anybody. Not like he had done once already. Static stared at Hot Streaks back. He hadn't caused any disasters in days. Something was wrong.
"Hot Streak, is there something wrong man?"
Hot Streak kept his mouth shut and just shook his head. Emptyness consumed him. All he could do was continue to force himself to belive that there was nothing wrong and maybe it would all dissapate. But he knew that it was the child part of him that wanted that.
"You need to talk to someone if there's something wrong. It just might help."
Hot Streak stopped and turned his head toward Static. He allowed himself a sadistic smile, in spite of his feelings.
"Sure. When I feel like I truly need it I just might listen to you. But not now," he replied, looking down. "This is something I need to do on my own."
He continued his walk down the road toward the cemetary. He stared across it from the gate.
"Been a while since I was last here."
Static stared at Hot Streak again. "Why would you be here in the first place?"
He gave Static a sad smile. "`Cause my mom died. Well, actually she killed herself. Took to much asprin at once. Got drugged. You know. Been three years. Three."
Hot Streak picked his way across the field toward a solitary headstone. The name had chipped away slightly and it was dusty and untaken care of. The young red head sighed and bowed.
The next day Hot Streak sat in class for once, tapping his pencil. Character Ed sucked.
"Francis, do you have any words of wisdom?"
He thought for a minute. "The longer one holds onto a memory, the longer they live in the past. The sweeter the memory, the deeper the meaning. But as long as revenge exist, let the sorrow flow."
Everyone stared in shock at him. But he wasn't finished.
"Let's let go of the past. Hold on to what's now and what awaits. There's no point in dwelling in self-pity or regret," he finished.
The teacher nodded. "Words of wisdom beyond the years."
Hot Streak lowered his head. That's what he had to do. Let go of the past. Hold onto the present. And see what awaits.
