It’s Just a Tragedy, chapter 1
I was always a fuck up, you know. I never did anything right as a kid. Drugs and all that shit that go along with it. I guess that's why I'm here. I don't know why I did it; I guess it was just an instinct. Maybe it was because all the shit was being stirred up lately. The past walked right through my back door and into my life again and it got me back on the edge and off my clean slate. Everyone's heard the saying "the past comes back to haunt you," but I sure the hell didn't think it was going to kick me on my ass this hard.
I guess not seeing my mother for years and having her pop back into my life one day made me a little pissed. I never gave her much of a greeting more of a "what the hell do you want?" I guess I should have been more grateful that she even wanted to see me. I mean I just got out of jail and she said she just wanted to see how I was doing. She knew how I was doing, she knew I was poor as hell and lived in the slums, she knew everything, and she didn't even have to give me some type of sympathy visit to make herself feel better. Maybe she thought I cared about her and her new husband, but I could give dick all about her and her life, just like she didn't really care about mine and that's the way it was with us. Ever since I was kicked out, we never spoke and it was best that way and I still wish it was that way.
Sometimes I wish I could have made better choices in my life. Hell, I was young and when you're young you never make many right choices, but I seem to have missed them all. I remember thins one time I spent about a month living in the local mall sleeping in the toilets, the only place they didn't have cameras, until they finally caught me and threw me out of there. After that, I ended up in one of those homeless places, and I stayed there for a long time until they arranged some sort of job for me. I saved up my money just to get out of there. That was a hard time because I had to stay away from drugs to save up the money and to stay in the shelter. As soon as I got myself a small apartment and a minimum wage job that was easy to keep it seemed I got right back onto the drugs again.
When all you make is bad choices, they stick with you. So here I was with a gun in my hand once again, thinking back when I was only fourteen in my mom and step-dad's bedroom. I didn't feel like I was going to break down and cry like I did after I shot the rounds off back then. I felt like if I didn't pull the trigger, I would break down and cry. It's like I needed to, and if I didn't, then it would ruin me and I needed to end the pain I caused to everyone around me. Even things that happened ten years ago are hurting people. My mother can't stand to be around me in my shitty ass apartment with my druggy friends around and dealers coming in and out. She asked me to move in with her once. She married again rich, I bet he's a stuck up bastard who wouldn't put up with me for a second. I'm like a twenty-four-year-old child. Its like I know everything, but nothing all at once just like you do when you're a teenager and everything seems so complicated and you think the when your older it will all get better, but it really just gets worse. That's how I feel, how I've always felt. I still feel like I'm fourteen and waiting to grow up. Maybe because I'm handling my life in a childish way, in a "the world is better off without me" way because when you're young you always try to take the easy way out and this is what I'm doing. God, why can't I just pull this fucking trigger? I honestly have nothing to live for.
I do. I have a five-year-old daughter with beautiful bright green eyes. She is my hero, I love her to death and she is the only thing stopping me. I only get to see her on weekends. She keeps me clean for two whole days in a week. I owe it to her to be a great dad, even though I doubt I am in anyway. I don't want her to end up like me, but she won't. Her mom is too great; I wonder how we ever ended up together. I was clean then. I was off drugs for two years. It was the best times of my life because I was in love, I was saved, but I guess love isn't really forever like they say in all those romance-y type movies and stories you read. I still love her though every time I see her I feel like I'm flying, no matter how stupid that sounds; it's just how she makes me feel. Her smile made me smile just like little Estella's does. I picked the name that made me happy, and I get to keep apart of my love if only for the weekend. When I think about my little girl it makes me wonder if I can do this or should I do this. I lived without a father and it fucked me up good, what if I do this and it does the same to her?
I'm bullshitting myself here. I'm just stalling because I'm too much of a chicken shit to do this. I can face the facts and realize I really am no good, the only thing stopping me is myself and I have never stopped myself, from anything before. Dammit, I need to stop thinking about this. Why could I just not think things through like I usually do, one life means nothing in this world. Sure I'm still twenty-four and I could turn everything around still, but the one thing I want I wont get so trying to fix myself up for something that will never happen will just make me fall harder then I have before. I could lose my daughter for good if I have that happen. If I pull this trigger, I will lose her for good too. That John guy is good for her; I bet without me around it would be better for her to accept him as her father. He has his own kids, and is good with them, I saw them all together. Sometimes when I get bored and drunk I sit outside their home and watch them play in the front yard and try my best to do so while keeping out of sight. I wish she would love me again like she did back then, when I would sing to her when she was in my arms. I wonder if she remembered that and the way we felt together, like there was nothing else in the world and the only feelings were good feelings. The truth is we were young, and I'm still stuck there.
"Daddy? Why don't you and mommy love each other? All my friend mommy's and daddy's love each other and live together and are happy... why aren't you happy, daddy?"
"Listen kiddo, your mom doesn't love me anymore. Sure I wish she did because I do love her so much, but things don't always work out that way."
"But why don't you have someone else to love like mommy does?"
"Because I can't find anyone else to love, dear, and I just need to love you because you're my everything now and don't you forget it, ok, kiddo?"
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I don't like him."
"Don't like who?"
"I don't like mommy's new friend. The one she loves now."
"And why is that?"
"I want mommy to love you. Why doesn't she love you anymore?"
"I wish I knew, honey, and you shouldn't hate John because your mother loves him instead of me now."
"Did you and mommy tell each other you loved each other?"
"Everyday."
"They don't say it."
"Well, sometimes it takes time for that type of love to progress."
"I think you should tell mommy you love her again, then she'll remember she loves you. Maybe she just forgot she does, mommy forgets things sometimes."
"Maybe she did, but you know what I think?"
"What?"
"That you should stop asking questions and go to sleep, your mom is picking you up early tomorrow, remember?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Good-night, sweetheart."
"Good-night, daddy... daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Estella, now sweet dreams, ok?"
"Ok."
We always had conversations like that. She was so smart for a five-year-old. She could tie her shoes, spell her name and say the whole alphabet before she even started school I was so proud o everything she did. She made my life worth living when she was around. When she wasn't I felt like the only thing that make life worth living is more drug's so I took more drugs to make me happy, or at least satisfy me and the state I was in. I guess it helped a bit.
"You can't fucking do it, can you?"
I heard the familiar voice of one of my what I guess I can call buddies, more like he supplies me with most of my drugs.
"Do what?"
"Kill yourself?"
"I can if I wanted to."
"Then do it. Why else would you have that gun?"
"I was thinking, you know."
"Thinking about why not?"
"Yah."
"I think you shouldn't."
"And why is that?"
"You're one of my best customers, you know, can't loose yah."
"Gee, thanks."
We had a moment of silence until he spoke again.
"I can do it for yah."
"What?"
"I, I never killed a man before."
"Well that's a good thing, don't cha think?"
"I think everyone in their lifetime should at least feel what it's like to kill something."
"Can't you go kill a squirrel or something?"
"Well if you want it done and you can't do it, I will, that's all I'm saying... I'm not scared about doing it or anything."
"Well I think I'm more scared about where you're going with this."
"Don't be, I wouldn't do it unless you wanted me to."
"Well I live having my life in my own hands, but thanks for the offer, I guess."
"Well I came to give you your weekly supply."
"I don't need it."
"What, you got a new dealer?"
"No."
"Then why not?"
"Because I quit."
"What?"
"I quit. I'm either going to shoot myself, or I'm going to clean myself up."
"You can't be serious?"
"I am and I can do it. I just don't know what choice I'm going to make yet."
"I vote shoot yourself, man."
"You can leave now."
"No."
"I don't want the drugs ok? Just go."
"I came all the way over here for your sorry ass and you're turning down my best stuff."
"I SAID, FUCKING GO!"
"You're fucking nuts, man, this is the best shit. You know I always give you the best."
"I don't care, just leave."
"Ok, whatever, man."
I heard him leave not shutting the door, but I did not move to close it. I instead just sat there gun still at hand. I could clean myself up. I really could... for Estella. I could do it for her. Maybe if I do Jennifer will even love me again. If she loved me again I would have everything again. Everything I have always wanted since I laid eyes on her when I was seventeen. She loved me; she could still love me like Estella said she might just need a reminding that she loves me. I just need to tell her I need to go to her house and sing out to her like I would every night when I left her house. That always made her smile.
I headed over to her house. If I was going to do this I had to do it now. I still had the gun in my hand. I don't really know why though. I just walked out in the state I was in and I just happened to not bother to drop the gun on my way out. I didn't know what to expect. I never took risks in these kinds of situations. I never knew how to deal with my feelings, I just knew I loved her and she needed to know it. It took me nearly two hours to walk to her house. She was there I saw the light on in the bedroom she now shared with John. Fuck John, she loves him, dammit. She has to, I mean he's a great guy and has money and can give her everything I can't. This is stupid of me, I can't do this, I can't live without her, though, I can't live at all. I'm here standing on her front lawn and no amount of begging will change the fact that she doesn't live me anymore. I should just move on, I should just do it. I've always picked the easy way out, I should just stick to that, and it seems to work even though I always get the shit end of the stick. I'm not drunk or stoned. I'm in a clean state of mind other then I think I'm a bit crazy.
I wasn't really paying attention when I clenched my fist tighter on the gun. Safety off my thumb pressed on the trigger, when the shot went off it wasn't on purpose I wasn't going to kill myself. I always knew I wasn't. I just didn't get it clear in my head. I was carrying the gun in a stupid way, I guess. It was pointing up towards my underarm and I had my thumb on the trigger while holding it. I felt the metal go through my rib cage and into the top half of my heart and I heard the cries of my daughter as she ran towards me across the dewed lawn. I knew I didn't want to die for any reason in the world.
When little Estella reached my side I was half gone. I looked into her eyes and I never felt so dead inside. She had tears streaming down her face when she realized I was bleeding and I told her I wasn't going to see her again after I left tonight. I told her I loved her more then anything in the world and that I don't want her to forget me. Jennifer came to my side. She already had tear-stained eyes as she knelt beside me her face asking why in so many ways. I couldn't answer. I just looked at her and mouthed I love you to her as she embraced my dying body. She was sobbing uncontrollably and that last thing I heard before I was gone was the words I came for, "I love you too."
I guess not seeing my mother for years and having her pop back into my life one day made me a little pissed. I never gave her much of a greeting more of a "what the hell do you want?" I guess I should have been more grateful that she even wanted to see me. I mean I just got out of jail and she said she just wanted to see how I was doing. She knew how I was doing, she knew I was poor as hell and lived in the slums, she knew everything, and she didn't even have to give me some type of sympathy visit to make herself feel better. Maybe she thought I cared about her and her new husband, but I could give dick all about her and her life, just like she didn't really care about mine and that's the way it was with us. Ever since I was kicked out, we never spoke and it was best that way and I still wish it was that way.
Sometimes I wish I could have made better choices in my life. Hell, I was young and when you're young you never make many right choices, but I seem to have missed them all. I remember thins one time I spent about a month living in the local mall sleeping in the toilets, the only place they didn't have cameras, until they finally caught me and threw me out of there. After that, I ended up in one of those homeless places, and I stayed there for a long time until they arranged some sort of job for me. I saved up my money just to get out of there. That was a hard time because I had to stay away from drugs to save up the money and to stay in the shelter. As soon as I got myself a small apartment and a minimum wage job that was easy to keep it seemed I got right back onto the drugs again.
When all you make is bad choices, they stick with you. So here I was with a gun in my hand once again, thinking back when I was only fourteen in my mom and step-dad's bedroom. I didn't feel like I was going to break down and cry like I did after I shot the rounds off back then. I felt like if I didn't pull the trigger, I would break down and cry. It's like I needed to, and if I didn't, then it would ruin me and I needed to end the pain I caused to everyone around me. Even things that happened ten years ago are hurting people. My mother can't stand to be around me in my shitty ass apartment with my druggy friends around and dealers coming in and out. She asked me to move in with her once. She married again rich, I bet he's a stuck up bastard who wouldn't put up with me for a second. I'm like a twenty-four-year-old child. Its like I know everything, but nothing all at once just like you do when you're a teenager and everything seems so complicated and you think the when your older it will all get better, but it really just gets worse. That's how I feel, how I've always felt. I still feel like I'm fourteen and waiting to grow up. Maybe because I'm handling my life in a childish way, in a "the world is better off without me" way because when you're young you always try to take the easy way out and this is what I'm doing. God, why can't I just pull this fucking trigger? I honestly have nothing to live for.
I do. I have a five-year-old daughter with beautiful bright green eyes. She is my hero, I love her to death and she is the only thing stopping me. I only get to see her on weekends. She keeps me clean for two whole days in a week. I owe it to her to be a great dad, even though I doubt I am in anyway. I don't want her to end up like me, but she won't. Her mom is too great; I wonder how we ever ended up together. I was clean then. I was off drugs for two years. It was the best times of my life because I was in love, I was saved, but I guess love isn't really forever like they say in all those romance-y type movies and stories you read. I still love her though every time I see her I feel like I'm flying, no matter how stupid that sounds; it's just how she makes me feel. Her smile made me smile just like little Estella's does. I picked the name that made me happy, and I get to keep apart of my love if only for the weekend. When I think about my little girl it makes me wonder if I can do this or should I do this. I lived without a father and it fucked me up good, what if I do this and it does the same to her?
I'm bullshitting myself here. I'm just stalling because I'm too much of a chicken shit to do this. I can face the facts and realize I really am no good, the only thing stopping me is myself and I have never stopped myself, from anything before. Dammit, I need to stop thinking about this. Why could I just not think things through like I usually do, one life means nothing in this world. Sure I'm still twenty-four and I could turn everything around still, but the one thing I want I wont get so trying to fix myself up for something that will never happen will just make me fall harder then I have before. I could lose my daughter for good if I have that happen. If I pull this trigger, I will lose her for good too. That John guy is good for her; I bet without me around it would be better for her to accept him as her father. He has his own kids, and is good with them, I saw them all together. Sometimes when I get bored and drunk I sit outside their home and watch them play in the front yard and try my best to do so while keeping out of sight. I wish she would love me again like she did back then, when I would sing to her when she was in my arms. I wonder if she remembered that and the way we felt together, like there was nothing else in the world and the only feelings were good feelings. The truth is we were young, and I'm still stuck there.
"Daddy? Why don't you and mommy love each other? All my friend mommy's and daddy's love each other and live together and are happy... why aren't you happy, daddy?"
"Listen kiddo, your mom doesn't love me anymore. Sure I wish she did because I do love her so much, but things don't always work out that way."
"But why don't you have someone else to love like mommy does?"
"Because I can't find anyone else to love, dear, and I just need to love you because you're my everything now and don't you forget it, ok, kiddo?"
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I don't like him."
"Don't like who?"
"I don't like mommy's new friend. The one she loves now."
"And why is that?"
"I want mommy to love you. Why doesn't she love you anymore?"
"I wish I knew, honey, and you shouldn't hate John because your mother loves him instead of me now."
"Did you and mommy tell each other you loved each other?"
"Everyday."
"They don't say it."
"Well, sometimes it takes time for that type of love to progress."
"I think you should tell mommy you love her again, then she'll remember she loves you. Maybe she just forgot she does, mommy forgets things sometimes."
"Maybe she did, but you know what I think?"
"What?"
"That you should stop asking questions and go to sleep, your mom is picking you up early tomorrow, remember?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Good-night, sweetheart."
"Good-night, daddy... daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Estella, now sweet dreams, ok?"
"Ok."
We always had conversations like that. She was so smart for a five-year-old. She could tie her shoes, spell her name and say the whole alphabet before she even started school I was so proud o everything she did. She made my life worth living when she was around. When she wasn't I felt like the only thing that make life worth living is more drug's so I took more drugs to make me happy, or at least satisfy me and the state I was in. I guess it helped a bit.
"You can't fucking do it, can you?"
I heard the familiar voice of one of my what I guess I can call buddies, more like he supplies me with most of my drugs.
"Do what?"
"Kill yourself?"
"I can if I wanted to."
"Then do it. Why else would you have that gun?"
"I was thinking, you know."
"Thinking about why not?"
"Yah."
"I think you shouldn't."
"And why is that?"
"You're one of my best customers, you know, can't loose yah."
"Gee, thanks."
We had a moment of silence until he spoke again.
"I can do it for yah."
"What?"
"I, I never killed a man before."
"Well that's a good thing, don't cha think?"
"I think everyone in their lifetime should at least feel what it's like to kill something."
"Can't you go kill a squirrel or something?"
"Well if you want it done and you can't do it, I will, that's all I'm saying... I'm not scared about doing it or anything."
"Well I think I'm more scared about where you're going with this."
"Don't be, I wouldn't do it unless you wanted me to."
"Well I live having my life in my own hands, but thanks for the offer, I guess."
"Well I came to give you your weekly supply."
"I don't need it."
"What, you got a new dealer?"
"No."
"Then why not?"
"Because I quit."
"What?"
"I quit. I'm either going to shoot myself, or I'm going to clean myself up."
"You can't be serious?"
"I am and I can do it. I just don't know what choice I'm going to make yet."
"I vote shoot yourself, man."
"You can leave now."
"No."
"I don't want the drugs ok? Just go."
"I came all the way over here for your sorry ass and you're turning down my best stuff."
"I SAID, FUCKING GO!"
"You're fucking nuts, man, this is the best shit. You know I always give you the best."
"I don't care, just leave."
"Ok, whatever, man."
I heard him leave not shutting the door, but I did not move to close it. I instead just sat there gun still at hand. I could clean myself up. I really could... for Estella. I could do it for her. Maybe if I do Jennifer will even love me again. If she loved me again I would have everything again. Everything I have always wanted since I laid eyes on her when I was seventeen. She loved me; she could still love me like Estella said she might just need a reminding that she loves me. I just need to tell her I need to go to her house and sing out to her like I would every night when I left her house. That always made her smile.
I headed over to her house. If I was going to do this I had to do it now. I still had the gun in my hand. I don't really know why though. I just walked out in the state I was in and I just happened to not bother to drop the gun on my way out. I didn't know what to expect. I never took risks in these kinds of situations. I never knew how to deal with my feelings, I just knew I loved her and she needed to know it. It took me nearly two hours to walk to her house. She was there I saw the light on in the bedroom she now shared with John. Fuck John, she loves him, dammit. She has to, I mean he's a great guy and has money and can give her everything I can't. This is stupid of me, I can't do this, I can't live without her, though, I can't live at all. I'm here standing on her front lawn and no amount of begging will change the fact that she doesn't live me anymore. I should just move on, I should just do it. I've always picked the easy way out, I should just stick to that, and it seems to work even though I always get the shit end of the stick. I'm not drunk or stoned. I'm in a clean state of mind other then I think I'm a bit crazy.
I wasn't really paying attention when I clenched my fist tighter on the gun. Safety off my thumb pressed on the trigger, when the shot went off it wasn't on purpose I wasn't going to kill myself. I always knew I wasn't. I just didn't get it clear in my head. I was carrying the gun in a stupid way, I guess. It was pointing up towards my underarm and I had my thumb on the trigger while holding it. I felt the metal go through my rib cage and into the top half of my heart and I heard the cries of my daughter as she ran towards me across the dewed lawn. I knew I didn't want to die for any reason in the world.
When little Estella reached my side I was half gone. I looked into her eyes and I never felt so dead inside. She had tears streaming down her face when she realized I was bleeding and I told her I wasn't going to see her again after I left tonight. I told her I loved her more then anything in the world and that I don't want her to forget me. Jennifer came to my side. She already had tear-stained eyes as she knelt beside me her face asking why in so many ways. I couldn't answer. I just looked at her and mouthed I love you to her as she embraced my dying body. She was sobbing uncontrollably and that last thing I heard before I was gone was the words I came for, "I love you too."
