Why Am I Here?, chapter 4
I woke up, the dawn light glinting in my tired eyes. My neck tingled from the position my head was on the makeshift pillow people call a steering wheel. I stretched my arms and rubbed my eyes, yawning as the rays of the sun crept over the horizon. I felt much like the sun, trying to make my way through my amnesiac time in the way the sun tried to make it's way over the edge and light the world.
I rested back for a while, realizing about 10 minutes later that I needed to get moving if I wanted to get well. Be....normal. I started up the car and drove down the road. I tried to avoid streets with punk looking people. I guess they just don't like me. I sighed and realized I needed some coffee. I tried looking for some coffee shops or a 7/11. I came across one and parked. I looked wearily for any punk rockers. None. I got out and walked in, wiping down my clothes and hair, not that it did any good. I got a cup of coffee and walked back outside.
This guy didn't stare at me. He wore one of those dirty gas station button-up shirts with the name above the pocket. "Chad," it read in small curly letters.
I sat in my car, sipping the hot coffee, loving the feeling of the warmth that slid down my throat. Coffee is truly love. I'm glad I remembered the taste of coffee or I would have surly died.
After I finished, I threw the Styrofoam cup carelessly out the car door. I looked at my map again and realized I still had about 30 minutes more to drive. I felt a bit happier. I started off driving again. It was a very boring drive so I decided to put on 'Green Day' again. The music was somewhat familiar to me. I sang along as soon as I got used to the words. Again, it struck me that I sounded just like the lead singer. Then, I remembered.
Best wishes on tour!
Love, 80
Am I this lead singer? I'd have to figure it out soon. I was nearing my address. Well, what I thought was my address. I was about a block away. I started smiling. The thought of finally figuring things out was making me feel great.
I finally got to my street. The addresses going by until I reached my house, which was actually nice. I took a deep breath and hopped out of the car, running to the door.
The doorbell was right there. "Here we go," I said excitedly. My finger pressed the doorbell, ringing throughout the house. The door opened and there she was.
80.
I rested back for a while, realizing about 10 minutes later that I needed to get moving if I wanted to get well. Be....normal. I started up the car and drove down the road. I tried to avoid streets with punk looking people. I guess they just don't like me. I sighed and realized I needed some coffee. I tried looking for some coffee shops or a 7/11. I came across one and parked. I looked wearily for any punk rockers. None. I got out and walked in, wiping down my clothes and hair, not that it did any good. I got a cup of coffee and walked back outside.
This guy didn't stare at me. He wore one of those dirty gas station button-up shirts with the name above the pocket. "Chad," it read in small curly letters.
I sat in my car, sipping the hot coffee, loving the feeling of the warmth that slid down my throat. Coffee is truly love. I'm glad I remembered the taste of coffee or I would have surly died.
After I finished, I threw the Styrofoam cup carelessly out the car door. I looked at my map again and realized I still had about 30 minutes more to drive. I felt a bit happier. I started off driving again. It was a very boring drive so I decided to put on 'Green Day' again. The music was somewhat familiar to me. I sang along as soon as I got used to the words. Again, it struck me that I sounded just like the lead singer. Then, I remembered.
Best wishes on tour!
Love, 80
Am I this lead singer? I'd have to figure it out soon. I was nearing my address. Well, what I thought was my address. I was about a block away. I started smiling. The thought of finally figuring things out was making me feel great.
I finally got to my street. The addresses going by until I reached my house, which was actually nice. I took a deep breath and hopped out of the car, running to the door.
The doorbell was right there. "Here we go," I said excitedly. My finger pressed the doorbell, ringing throughout the house. The door opened and there she was.
80.
