"Do You Have A Lifestory, Jimmy?", chapter 6
Keep cool, keep cool. My blood pressure was high and pumped redundantly much blood around in my head. As fast as I saw Jimmy's blood pour down his cheeks, I got the panic feeling again. What could I do? Scream for help? I couldn't utter one single word. I guessed I had lost my voice in the shock. I can't remember anythin of that night. I remember shock. Feeling like dying. Like getting strangled.
I woke up sitting.
"Jimmy", I whispered immediately. How could I have fallen asleep? He was sick, all alone and lying on a lawn! Luckily, Jimmy still laid on the same place.
I checked his pulse and could breathe freely again. The shock let me go and the tears of anxiety started pouring down my face. I panted. He was alive! I shook his heavy body, yelling his name. Slowly, those deep brown eyes opened. He mumbled something. I collapsed down beside him, still crying.
"Don't cry", his hoarse voice tried to comfort me. He forced himself to sit up. "What the hell happened?" Carefully, he put his arm around me.
I bit my lip. I didn't want to re-etablish last night. As staring into the ash of what had been our fire place, I remembered the burned marshmallows. Feeling Jimmy's smell, I remembered the cigarettes and the dope. And seeing his smooth, friendly eyes in their ordinary state, I remembered how lost they had looked last night.
I made the choice to not tell him what he had been up to. He wasn't himself as fast as the Underbelly was around.
I was just going to say something, when I saw how Jimmy's expression collapsed.
"Oh holy shit... I'm sorry, hell, it all comes back now..."
I didn't reply to his words. I didn't share the kiss with him. "Just don't touch me." I turned my face away. That cut off the atmosphere.
"Honestly--" Jimmy's hand searched for my shoulder.
"No. I don't wanna talk to you, Jimmy." I faced him with a tear running down my cheek. "Let me be."
But thinking that Jimmy would give up would be like thinking that a... a cat would eat an aeroplane.
"I want to ask you something." I heard how he backed up. Since he got no reply, he just continued. "Were you going to leave last night?"
I pinched my eyes together, had a deep sigh and contemplated my answer.
"Why would you be so damn afraid of that?"
Jimmy looked troubled and pulled his fingers through his already ruffled hair.
"Because it has happened to me before", he mumbled.
"Would I leave you? Don't you trust me?" I turned my head to him once again.
"I do, I do," Jimmy assured. "But there's just the point that... that I hardly trust anyone."
I gasped irritatedly. "I thought you knew." Tears burned my eyes, and I did my best to fight them.
"I knew what?"
"I thought you knew that I love you, Jimmy."
Mixing boredom, half broken hears, two tragic life stories, silence, emptiness and lack of words is dangerous. We tried.
I wanted to cry, to scream, to put my anger somewhere else, I wanted to... die. But I didn't want to leave Jimmy. Never. Finally, there was a chemistry. But it wasn't working properly.
I had a look at Jimmy. He sat five metres from me, writing something. He looked like concentrating. "What's that?" I asked after four hours of silence.
Jimmy looked surprised. He blushed a little.
"It's a song." As I walked closer, he turned the book upside-down.
"Can't I see it?" I activated my puppy dog eyes.
"It's not finished. I'm not sure you'd like it..." He became silent.
"Come on." I took the paper. Jimmy didn't complain.
She's an extraordinary girl, in an ordinary world, and she can't seem to get away
He lacks the courage in his mind, like a child left behind, like a pet left in the rain
"It's beautiful", I mumbled. I browsed back. The notebook was stuffed with memories and monuments. "Can I borrow this?" I asked.
"Then, can I ask why?" Jimmy smirked gorgeously, as usual.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Why not? Look, I really want to read it. Read about your life story."
***
It was all a cry for help; an endless waiting for at least a glimpse of satisfaction.
A deep hole full off anxiety, panic and horror. A hole where you every day sink lower to get buried. Alive. That was Jimmy's background. Or, what kind of 'ground' is that to stand on? Fight for only taking one single breath, or keeping your balance.
Jimmy pointed at "Mars 3, Jingletown, USA"
"You know those lines, huh?"
I'm the son of Rage and Love. Yes, I did.
Jimmy stretched out the neckline of the shirt, exposing a tattooed script. "Rage vs. Love", it said simply, on his chest. "Did it myself", Jimmy muttered. "A twelve year old, alone in a house, getting insane with loneliness and a needle can only end up in one way." He sighed.
"Yeah... you've been through much." I nodded and tried to smile.
"Mom and Brad were never at home." Jimmy coax opened my fingers and looked up the last page. There was a photo of a couple in their late fourties. "That's them." He bit his lip, like trying to escape a painful memory.
"Who's that?" I pointed at a photo of a girl, about 14 years old. She was pretty exceptional; with short, shocking blue hair and piercings in her lips, nose, ears, cheeks and eyebrows.
Jimmy looked troubled. "Mary Jane. My cousin." He rubbed his eyes. "She doesn't belong here anymore."
I got cool runnings down my back. "You mean... she's dead?"
"Killed herself. It was just after I wrote Dearly Beloved about her."
"I'm sorry", I whispered. Poor Mary Jane. She had probably gone through as much shit as Jimmy.
"Whatever. That's life. It sucks." Jimmy wiped a tear irritatedly and shrugged his shoulders. "I started falling in love with her. At least I thought so. Then she died, and I escaped. But running away from your problems is never a solution."
I nodded, trying to seem understanding, but probably only seeming like a dumbass.
"April 2", Jimmy groaned. "Hell. Those days sucked. I was alone out there, and Mary Jane were gone and everything. I just... was alone."
"Boulevard of Broken Dreams. That's a deep title."
Jimmy smiled with one corner of the mouth. He browsed again. "Here. Easter Sunday. I'll always fucking hate Easter Sunday."
Jesus of Suburbia is a lie. And screaming Are we, we are the waiting, I read.
"So you became St. Jimmy. And you got the Underbelly", I mumbled to myself. He split himself up. "You know what, Jimmy? I prefer Jimmy. Just Jimmy."
Three days later, July 15th
"I can't sleep", I groaned. We were sitting in the cold, slummy lane once again.
"Me neither", Jimmy replied, yawning though.
"I wish we had a CD player", I muttered bitterly. "We used to have in our house. I remember Sex Pistols."
"God Save the Queen", Jimmy started chanting. "She ain't no human being!"
"And Ramones", I sighed. "And the Clash!" I started counting on fingers.
"Aw, I miss them." Jimmy started whining horrible, then all of a sudden went serious again. "I'm joking."
My jaw slipped open.
"What? You don't miss music?"
"Yeah, I do, but you're a little too much honey." He kissed my cheek.
"I still can't sleep." I whined like a little child.
"Insomnia", Jimmy stated professionally. "I can sing for you. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! WE MEAN IT, MAN! GOD SAAAVEE--"
"Shh! Shh! What the hell are you doing?!" I giggled hysterically and tried to stop him by pulling his shirt.
"Singing", said Jimmy innocently, looking like a bad angel.
"But I'm boooreed", I kept whine. "Have you got any cigarettes, sexy?"
Jimmy started searching in his pockets, fishing up two crumpled joints.
"You smoke these?" he asked, putting one to his lips.
I received the other one. No.
"Never tried", I answered. "Lighter?"
Jimmy handed over the small, bright green lighter. I caught it and lit the joint.
"Marijuana, huh?" I coughed, already feeling dizzy.
Jimmy nodded. "You're not used to them, are you?" He grinned as I almost choked with the indisposition.
"Where can I throw up?" I croaked.
"Keep cool, they're not dangerous."
I gave him a meaning glance. Not dangerous? Yeah, sure.
"Oh, alright then! They are dangerous", Jimmy corrected with a little sneer. "See, are you tempted now?" He puffed on me with his elbow.
"Give me a reason to smoke it then", I laughed.
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "It's good." He inhaled.
I couldn't escape sharing a kiss with him.
Then, the pot took over and conquered my mind. All I remember that happened after that was falling asleep to Jimmy's persistent version of God Save the Queen.
I woke up sitting.
"Jimmy", I whispered immediately. How could I have fallen asleep? He was sick, all alone and lying on a lawn! Luckily, Jimmy still laid on the same place.
I checked his pulse and could breathe freely again. The shock let me go and the tears of anxiety started pouring down my face. I panted. He was alive! I shook his heavy body, yelling his name. Slowly, those deep brown eyes opened. He mumbled something. I collapsed down beside him, still crying.
"Don't cry", his hoarse voice tried to comfort me. He forced himself to sit up. "What the hell happened?" Carefully, he put his arm around me.
I bit my lip. I didn't want to re-etablish last night. As staring into the ash of what had been our fire place, I remembered the burned marshmallows. Feeling Jimmy's smell, I remembered the cigarettes and the dope. And seeing his smooth, friendly eyes in their ordinary state, I remembered how lost they had looked last night.
I made the choice to not tell him what he had been up to. He wasn't himself as fast as the Underbelly was around.
I was just going to say something, when I saw how Jimmy's expression collapsed.
"Oh holy shit... I'm sorry, hell, it all comes back now..."
I didn't reply to his words. I didn't share the kiss with him. "Just don't touch me." I turned my face away. That cut off the atmosphere.
"Honestly--" Jimmy's hand searched for my shoulder.
"No. I don't wanna talk to you, Jimmy." I faced him with a tear running down my cheek. "Let me be."
But thinking that Jimmy would give up would be like thinking that a... a cat would eat an aeroplane.
"I want to ask you something." I heard how he backed up. Since he got no reply, he just continued. "Were you going to leave last night?"
I pinched my eyes together, had a deep sigh and contemplated my answer.
"Why would you be so damn afraid of that?"
Jimmy looked troubled and pulled his fingers through his already ruffled hair.
"Because it has happened to me before", he mumbled.
"Would I leave you? Don't you trust me?" I turned my head to him once again.
"I do, I do," Jimmy assured. "But there's just the point that... that I hardly trust anyone."
I gasped irritatedly. "I thought you knew." Tears burned my eyes, and I did my best to fight them.
"I knew what?"
"I thought you knew that I love you, Jimmy."
Mixing boredom, half broken hears, two tragic life stories, silence, emptiness and lack of words is dangerous. We tried.
I wanted to cry, to scream, to put my anger somewhere else, I wanted to... die. But I didn't want to leave Jimmy. Never. Finally, there was a chemistry. But it wasn't working properly.
I had a look at Jimmy. He sat five metres from me, writing something. He looked like concentrating. "What's that?" I asked after four hours of silence.
Jimmy looked surprised. He blushed a little.
"It's a song." As I walked closer, he turned the book upside-down.
"Can't I see it?" I activated my puppy dog eyes.
"It's not finished. I'm not sure you'd like it..." He became silent.
"Come on." I took the paper. Jimmy didn't complain.
She's an extraordinary girl, in an ordinary world, and she can't seem to get away
He lacks the courage in his mind, like a child left behind, like a pet left in the rain
"It's beautiful", I mumbled. I browsed back. The notebook was stuffed with memories and monuments. "Can I borrow this?" I asked.
"Then, can I ask why?" Jimmy smirked gorgeously, as usual.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Why not? Look, I really want to read it. Read about your life story."
***
It was all a cry for help; an endless waiting for at least a glimpse of satisfaction.
A deep hole full off anxiety, panic and horror. A hole where you every day sink lower to get buried. Alive. That was Jimmy's background. Or, what kind of 'ground' is that to stand on? Fight for only taking one single breath, or keeping your balance.
Jimmy pointed at "Mars 3, Jingletown, USA"
"You know those lines, huh?"
I'm the son of Rage and Love. Yes, I did.
Jimmy stretched out the neckline of the shirt, exposing a tattooed script. "Rage vs. Love", it said simply, on his chest. "Did it myself", Jimmy muttered. "A twelve year old, alone in a house, getting insane with loneliness and a needle can only end up in one way." He sighed.
"Yeah... you've been through much." I nodded and tried to smile.
"Mom and Brad were never at home." Jimmy coax opened my fingers and looked up the last page. There was a photo of a couple in their late fourties. "That's them." He bit his lip, like trying to escape a painful memory.
"Who's that?" I pointed at a photo of a girl, about 14 years old. She was pretty exceptional; with short, shocking blue hair and piercings in her lips, nose, ears, cheeks and eyebrows.
Jimmy looked troubled. "Mary Jane. My cousin." He rubbed his eyes. "She doesn't belong here anymore."
I got cool runnings down my back. "You mean... she's dead?"
"Killed herself. It was just after I wrote Dearly Beloved about her."
"I'm sorry", I whispered. Poor Mary Jane. She had probably gone through as much shit as Jimmy.
"Whatever. That's life. It sucks." Jimmy wiped a tear irritatedly and shrugged his shoulders. "I started falling in love with her. At least I thought so. Then she died, and I escaped. But running away from your problems is never a solution."
I nodded, trying to seem understanding, but probably only seeming like a dumbass.
"April 2", Jimmy groaned. "Hell. Those days sucked. I was alone out there, and Mary Jane were gone and everything. I just... was alone."
"Boulevard of Broken Dreams. That's a deep title."
Jimmy smiled with one corner of the mouth. He browsed again. "Here. Easter Sunday. I'll always fucking hate Easter Sunday."
Jesus of Suburbia is a lie. And screaming Are we, we are the waiting, I read.
"So you became St. Jimmy. And you got the Underbelly", I mumbled to myself. He split himself up. "You know what, Jimmy? I prefer Jimmy. Just Jimmy."
Three days later, July 15th
"I can't sleep", I groaned. We were sitting in the cold, slummy lane once again.
"Me neither", Jimmy replied, yawning though.
"I wish we had a CD player", I muttered bitterly. "We used to have in our house. I remember Sex Pistols."
"God Save the Queen", Jimmy started chanting. "She ain't no human being!"
"And Ramones", I sighed. "And the Clash!" I started counting on fingers.
"Aw, I miss them." Jimmy started whining horrible, then all of a sudden went serious again. "I'm joking."
My jaw slipped open.
"What? You don't miss music?"
"Yeah, I do, but you're a little too much honey." He kissed my cheek.
"I still can't sleep." I whined like a little child.
"Insomnia", Jimmy stated professionally. "I can sing for you. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! WE MEAN IT, MAN! GOD SAAAVEE--"
"Shh! Shh! What the hell are you doing?!" I giggled hysterically and tried to stop him by pulling his shirt.
"Singing", said Jimmy innocently, looking like a bad angel.
"But I'm boooreed", I kept whine. "Have you got any cigarettes, sexy?"
Jimmy started searching in his pockets, fishing up two crumpled joints.
"You smoke these?" he asked, putting one to his lips.
I received the other one. No.
"Never tried", I answered. "Lighter?"
Jimmy handed over the small, bright green lighter. I caught it and lit the joint.
"Marijuana, huh?" I coughed, already feeling dizzy.
Jimmy nodded. "You're not used to them, are you?" He grinned as I almost choked with the indisposition.
"Where can I throw up?" I croaked.
"Keep cool, they're not dangerous."
I gave him a meaning glance. Not dangerous? Yeah, sure.
"Oh, alright then! They are dangerous", Jimmy corrected with a little sneer. "See, are you tempted now?" He puffed on me with his elbow.
"Give me a reason to smoke it then", I laughed.
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "It's good." He inhaled.
I couldn't escape sharing a kiss with him.
Then, the pot took over and conquered my mind. All I remember that happened after that was falling asleep to Jimmy's persistent version of God Save the Queen.
