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Hey.
I have posted short stories here before and recieved a lot of feedback. So I'm giving it a shot again. Please let me know what you think. Any opinions at all are truly appreciated. Oh, and if you're really religious this story might offend you. That isn't my intent, though, so relax. It's just a story. THANK YOU!!!
-apparently I'm going to have to do this in two posts...
Suicide Song-Christine Parsons
I place the CD in the slot of my CD player. I push it in. I push play. Music pours from the surround sound speakers and spills all over the room. First verse, chorus, second verse, blah blah blah. ****. This isnt it. I skip to song number two. The walls of my shabby apartment vibrate with the noise from the speakers causing some of the chipped paint to fall to the floor. First verse, chorus, second verse, blah blah blah. This isnt it either. I skip to song number three. Its just like the first two songs. Blah blah blah. Eject.
\tThis is my life.
\tEdward says Im an old soul. That goes along the lines of reincarnation. It means Ive been reincarnated over and over because in each life I cant seem to get it right so I dont get to go on to eternity. Instead, Im reincarnated on earth. Edward says being an old soul makes me wise. I say it makes me the eternal **** up.
\tI boil some water to make dinner. Or lunch. Whatever. Most times, I forget to eat at all. I open my almost empty cabinet and pull out a bag of Top Ramen. The plastic is all dusty. I wonder how long its been up there.
\tEdward says I could be something if I applied myself. All I really need is an education.
\tI break up the noodles and put them in the boiling water. I sit down at my little makeshift table consisting of a piece of wood held up by two crates. I sit on the floor, and its wet. I dont care.
\tEdward says that Im too young to be a full time janitor. He says being a janitor is for dried up old men like him whove missed out on their opportunities for bigger and better things. Me, Im only twenty-two. I could do so much.
\tI hear the water boiling over. I get a bowl so I can eat my dusty noodles. Jesus, what I do to sustain existence.
\tI take another CD from the plastic shopping bag. I struggle with the wrapper and the annoying sticker on the top. I push it into my CD player. I push play. ThisI like. But it isnt it. Too much electric guitar. Eject. I go to bed.
\tMonday night, and Im off to work. I only work nights. Monday thru Friday. I work with Edward. Im a janitor. It doesnt matter.
\tEdward greets me with a kind of army salute thing, where you put your hand sideways on your forehead, and then push it out. He calls me Captain. I dont know where he gets this ****.
\tI sweep. I mop. I empty trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. I smoke. And I talk to Edward. He seems chipper.
\tEdward tells me that Im squandering my life. The wrinkles and cracks in his seventy something year old face look dusty. Like if I punched him in the face dust would disperse everywhere same as when you clap two chalky erasers together. Edward tells me I shouldnt smoke.
\tYou know how sometimes people ask you things like If you were trapped on a desert island and you could only bring one person or If you were going to die tomorrow what would you do today. Well thats what Ive based my entire life on-a question like that. Except my question is If you could die listening to just one song, what song would you die to.
\tI sweep more. I mop. I empty trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. Im out of cigarettes.
\tTuesday morning, or afternoon. Whatever. I go into my closet with a toilet. This thing doesnt even qualify as a bathroom. I dont care. My hair feels too long so I take a pair of scissors from the countertop and I cut it. Theres no mirror so I just guess. I dont care.
\tI walk down to Mickeys CDs Store. No new releases. No old releases. Nothing I havent heard. ****. At this rate, Im going to live forever.
\tEdward used to tell me stories about his wife, about his kids, about his dog. I used to act like I cared, too. He even once asked about my family. Did I have any brothers and sisters, where were my parents, what did they do for a living. I told him that they all died on Christmas Eve. They were hit by a drunk driver. I was nine, and I didnt die. Edward doesnt tell me stories anymore.
\tTuesday night, and I go to work. Edward says I look like ****, and asks if Ive eaten. I cant remember. I wish my body didnt require so much sustenance.
\tI have never lied to Edward. I think that really means something. Hes the only person Ive ever been entirely and completely honest with.
\tI sweep. I mop. I empty the trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. I go outside for a smoke.
\tThe cold night air wraps around me and Edward like a blanket. His breath escapes his lips and the frosty air makes it look like hes smoking too. Edward tells me that Id be a handsome young man if Id clean myself up a bit. Lose the dirty second-hand clothes. Wash my hair. Brush my teeth. Id have all of the girls after me.
\tI dont even own a washer and dryer. My clothes come from thrift stores-and I mean the really cheap ones. I cant remember the last time that I really took a shower. I just do that thing where you take a wet, soapy face cloth and wash your face, and your pits. I probably smell awful. I dont care.
\tAfter work I walk around for a few hours. I like being out at night. I stop at this little diner. The neon sign says Bennys. There arent many people there, which isnt surprising since its almost two a.m. There are a few drunks in the corner booth. The bar probably kicked them out and now they need a place to sit and feel like ****. At least they arent driving home.
\tEdward says that theres good in everyone. Bull****.
\tI order a coffee. Then I realize I havent eaten all day. So when the waitress brings me my coffee I order something.
\tWhen I was nine my family really did die in a car accident on Christmas Eve. We were all packed into my moms minivan driving around town looking at the lights on all of the houses. A drunk driver came out of nowhere and hit us head on. Im the only one who survived.
\tIm pretty sure that god was just ****ing with me. Ha ha, Adam. Now youre all alone. That tricky *******.
I have posted short stories here before and recieved a lot of feedback. So I'm giving it a shot again. Please let me know what you think. Any opinions at all are truly appreciated. Oh, and if you're really religious this story might offend you. That isn't my intent, though, so relax. It's just a story. THANK YOU!!!
-apparently I'm going to have to do this in two posts...
Suicide Song-Christine Parsons
I place the CD in the slot of my CD player. I push it in. I push play. Music pours from the surround sound speakers and spills all over the room. First verse, chorus, second verse, blah blah blah. ****. This isnt it. I skip to song number two. The walls of my shabby apartment vibrate with the noise from the speakers causing some of the chipped paint to fall to the floor. First verse, chorus, second verse, blah blah blah. This isnt it either. I skip to song number three. Its just like the first two songs. Blah blah blah. Eject.
\tThis is my life.
\tEdward says Im an old soul. That goes along the lines of reincarnation. It means Ive been reincarnated over and over because in each life I cant seem to get it right so I dont get to go on to eternity. Instead, Im reincarnated on earth. Edward says being an old soul makes me wise. I say it makes me the eternal **** up.
\tI boil some water to make dinner. Or lunch. Whatever. Most times, I forget to eat at all. I open my almost empty cabinet and pull out a bag of Top Ramen. The plastic is all dusty. I wonder how long its been up there.
\tEdward says I could be something if I applied myself. All I really need is an education.
\tI break up the noodles and put them in the boiling water. I sit down at my little makeshift table consisting of a piece of wood held up by two crates. I sit on the floor, and its wet. I dont care.
\tEdward says that Im too young to be a full time janitor. He says being a janitor is for dried up old men like him whove missed out on their opportunities for bigger and better things. Me, Im only twenty-two. I could do so much.
\tI hear the water boiling over. I get a bowl so I can eat my dusty noodles. Jesus, what I do to sustain existence.
\tI take another CD from the plastic shopping bag. I struggle with the wrapper and the annoying sticker on the top. I push it into my CD player. I push play. ThisI like. But it isnt it. Too much electric guitar. Eject. I go to bed.
\tMonday night, and Im off to work. I only work nights. Monday thru Friday. I work with Edward. Im a janitor. It doesnt matter.
\tEdward greets me with a kind of army salute thing, where you put your hand sideways on your forehead, and then push it out. He calls me Captain. I dont know where he gets this ****.
\tI sweep. I mop. I empty trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. I smoke. And I talk to Edward. He seems chipper.
\tEdward tells me that Im squandering my life. The wrinkles and cracks in his seventy something year old face look dusty. Like if I punched him in the face dust would disperse everywhere same as when you clap two chalky erasers together. Edward tells me I shouldnt smoke.
\tYou know how sometimes people ask you things like If you were trapped on a desert island and you could only bring one person or If you were going to die tomorrow what would you do today. Well thats what Ive based my entire life on-a question like that. Except my question is If you could die listening to just one song, what song would you die to.
\tI sweep more. I mop. I empty trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. Im out of cigarettes.
\tTuesday morning, or afternoon. Whatever. I go into my closet with a toilet. This thing doesnt even qualify as a bathroom. I dont care. My hair feels too long so I take a pair of scissors from the countertop and I cut it. Theres no mirror so I just guess. I dont care.
\tI walk down to Mickeys CDs Store. No new releases. No old releases. Nothing I havent heard. ****. At this rate, Im going to live forever.
\tEdward used to tell me stories about his wife, about his kids, about his dog. I used to act like I cared, too. He even once asked about my family. Did I have any brothers and sisters, where were my parents, what did they do for a living. I told him that they all died on Christmas Eve. They were hit by a drunk driver. I was nine, and I didnt die. Edward doesnt tell me stories anymore.
\tTuesday night, and I go to work. Edward says I look like ****, and asks if Ive eaten. I cant remember. I wish my body didnt require so much sustenance.
\tI have never lied to Edward. I think that really means something. Hes the only person Ive ever been entirely and completely honest with.
\tI sweep. I mop. I empty the trash cans. I put fresh bags in them. I go outside for a smoke.
\tThe cold night air wraps around me and Edward like a blanket. His breath escapes his lips and the frosty air makes it look like hes smoking too. Edward tells me that Id be a handsome young man if Id clean myself up a bit. Lose the dirty second-hand clothes. Wash my hair. Brush my teeth. Id have all of the girls after me.
\tI dont even own a washer and dryer. My clothes come from thrift stores-and I mean the really cheap ones. I cant remember the last time that I really took a shower. I just do that thing where you take a wet, soapy face cloth and wash your face, and your pits. I probably smell awful. I dont care.
\tAfter work I walk around for a few hours. I like being out at night. I stop at this little diner. The neon sign says Bennys. There arent many people there, which isnt surprising since its almost two a.m. There are a few drunks in the corner booth. The bar probably kicked them out and now they need a place to sit and feel like ****. At least they arent driving home.
\tEdward says that theres good in everyone. Bull****.
\tI order a coffee. Then I realize I havent eaten all day. So when the waitress brings me my coffee I order something.
\tWhen I was nine my family really did die in a car accident on Christmas Eve. We were all packed into my moms minivan driving around town looking at the lights on all of the houses. A drunk driver came out of nowhere and hit us head on. Im the only one who survived.
\tIm pretty sure that god was just ****ing with me. Ha ha, Adam. Now youre all alone. That tricky *******.
