Darkness. All of what there is and what will ever be lies in the cold darkness. All hopes
and dreams that have been had are twisted to form falsehoods and lies. Anyone that is around can
see...
“OH, GOD, MY FUCKING EYES!” I scream as the lights to my near pitch black room
turn on.
“It’s time to get up, lazy ass,” my older brothers says. My lights all of a sudden flicker,
and then go out.
“Oh way to go, Francis, you killed my lights!” I retort, scowling at him from the opposite
end of the room. “At least tell me there is a little bit of coffee this morning, and you didn’t drink it
all.”
I might have forgotten to mention this but my dickwad of a brother is actually adopted
and I am bigger than him. Even though he can beat me in a variety of activities, he is only older
than me by a single hour. The only thing I have him beat on is the variety of hobbies I have:
drawing, painting models for a few games, reading, annoying the shit out of a certain deserving
brother… Other than that there isn’t much else. Unfortunately, since brothers like to know what
you do, this brother knows everything hobbywise and then some. That “then some” being a
“touchy subject”, as he puts it, that what I would rather not have some of my friends know.
“God I wish I was in a dif erent reality or something because this thing of a brother is
going to drive me nuts,” I thought to myself while still laying in bed, staring daggers at my brother
for more than one reason.
“Yo, get your ass outta bed so we won’t be late for school,” He says as he decides to be
brave and step into my room. My room is a war zone of practically anything you could think of:
clothes, food (containers really), soda cans and bottles, open miniature boxes, etc.
“Stop. Don’t move 'cause I just saw something move beside your foot,” I warn
sarcastically. His face… OH, his face went pale, and I could practically see his brain running
through what could possibly live in my room besides me, almost making me burst out laughing at
him. Then it was gone as he took a step… then his face met floor with an audible thud. That sent
me over the edge. I stop laughing after looking at his expression and seeing the “get up now or
die” look he has given to me in the past. I usually hope that look doesn’t come about 'cause then I
remember the hardships we have been through since our mother died 4 years ago and our father
disappearing just 6 months ago.
The sad part of all this is that we both consider ourselves hopeless individuals who have
nothing to really live for and that what we’ll end up doing for the rest of our lives is what the
streets offer. That or we get a job at the lovely McDonald's. The thoughts that end up going
through my mind from some of the places nearby are beyond worse than what my room can offer
as “dirty”.
I have fucked up enough to know that even at my age there will always be something to
kick you down. After our mother died, I was hit real hard, my brother and father noticed this and
tried to help me but I was tumbling… tumbling into that blackness that is in all humans. That
which we all see as evil but is truly just what we have to endure to plain live every day. Then that
day arrived.
3 years 7 months ago
It was a Saturday morning and I was watching the Hub at a friend’s house (thank god they
let me crash at their place for a night while my room was getting fixed after the ceiling caved in…
again) and I wasn’t paying much attention to what was on. All of a sudden this godawful song
comes on and I see the show My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. I had heard rumors about this
show being good, but also heard that this was a show aimed for 5 year old girls but happened to get
a large adult following. So the show was going and it was actually making sense to me. I watched
what apparently was one of those stupid minimarathons. My mind started to wander as I was
watching these technicolor ponies, and I thought, “They look so happy. Man I wish I was that
happy.”
After that I watched it as often as possible to see what it was like, and upon finishing what
there was, I found myself much happier. My father and my brother noticed and thought I might
have gotten over the pain of losing my mother, but really I was just suppressing those emotions so
I didn’t feel them.
As the months dragged on I got more enveloped in the MLP society and eventually found
stories. As all teens do they go find the fun, dirty stories and fan out from there, but I went to the
dark, morbid stuff, then on to the “happy golucky” side, and then back again. During that time I
was talking to a lot of people for help with my depression problems but quickly checked out as
okay. Apparently they just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to shoot up a school or
something. The only drawback to the MLP stuff was that I was starting to yearn for the happiness
that was in the show and that world.
Present
I get out of bed and help my brother back up to his feet. “If there isn’t any coffee left, I
will make sure you pay,” I warn. Coffee has been our best friend for a while and neither of us
could see giving it up any time in the near future. If it is anything to anyone, I will literally drink 2
cups every 2 or 3 hours if I can. Coffee has literally been the only incentive for getting up in the
morning for me, and my brother likes adding special syrups to the cups before adding the coffee.
Personally, I like it with a little bit of creamer and a little sugar, then I am set.
As we walk into the kitchen, I start to notice something strange. There were packed
lunches on the counter. “Hey. Aren’t we a little old for that crap?” I ask, “I mean, I have nothing
against it, but doesn’t it seem a little silly to be bringing food to school that could, and will, get
crushed to shit because of the stuff we have in our bags?” He nods, and then looks at me with a
twinkle in his eye I have come to hate and distrust.
“Oh these bags?” he asks sarcastically while picking up both with one hand. “Yea, these
are for us, or would you rather not eat lunch again and get nagged at by the teachers for falling
asleep in class?” He had a point. I almost always fell asleep in some respect or another in school.
Sometimes I just lay my head down and pass out, while other times I will just zone out and wake
up in same position with the person next to me poking me to dezone me.
“Take one if you really feel like it, but you know I do have to watch out for you and keep
us afloat for a while,” Francis says, and again there is that pained look he has. He must have
remembered something I hadn’t because usually this happens once every few weeks and then he
will shut up for day or two. I feel bad, but then again, he might be going through a weaker form of
that falling depression that I had when our mother died.
“Hey, just take it easy, okay? I am not a little kid that needs to be looked out for,” I say as
convincingly as possible. He knows this to be true, but hell if I can’t force him to see me as a near
equal and not a brother who was 5 years younger.
“I know man, but you know how I feel. II just need something to take my mind off Jim
leaving,” he admits for the umpteenth time. Jim Faulkner was a jerk of a stepfather but he could be
the most gullible dumbass ever. If I were to say that there was a lobster in the bathtub; he would
get this disbelieving look on his eyes and then go investigate like the idiot that would believe some
stupid crap like that. Although he might be one of the biggest jerks to ever grace a family, he was
also one of the nicest if he wasn’t stressed about some insignificant little thing. I swear his
stressing out reminded me of Twilight from MLP, freaking out that there wasn’t something right or
was late about something and then getting stuck, and then literally causing more chaos than what
would have happened if he didn't solve the littlest of problems.
Something hits me in the head, and I realize I must have zoned out again as I look around
and I notice that my lunch bag is on the floor in front of me. Looking up, I see that Francis isn’t
particularly happy about me zoning out. “Hey, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” I ask
since he doesn’t normally act this way. He just looks at me then the clock. I look towards the clock
as well and suddenly understand what happened, and that realization hit me like… well, a bus,
really.
“You have got to be kidding me. We should to have left 5 minutes ago!” I kind of shout,
getting him to cringe at the sudden volume increase.
As I grab my lunch and head to the living room to grab my bag and get my shoes I hear,
“Yeah, about that. You might want to change first,” I finally notice what I was about to wear to
school. I was pretty much in the painting attire I wore the other day since I paint late into the nights
every so often, and the school didn’t have a dress code, but you were harassed about having
exceptionally messy looking clothes. I curse to any possible thing I can think of, and I think
somewhere in there I might have heard “Celestia’”, but I was too focused with the best part of
those lovely “sprint to be ready” days I had so many of, and that part was getting clothes that were
all right.
7 horrifyingly dull hours later
The bell goes off signaling the end of yet another adventure through how many ways you
can possibly be depressed. As the teacher says good bye to us and that we should take a look over
our notes for the next class's test, I get out of the seat and thank god the school day is over. Now to
get home and look at maybe a paragraph's worth of the notes before eating and going to sleep.
As I am getting up, though, I start to feel uneasy about something. I usually have these
feelings when in public in a place I rarely, if ever, visit. As usual with these instances, I just look
around me, and then I just go back to doing what I was doing but a little faster.
After gathering and packing all my useless school crap, I go and look for Francis near the
rear of the building. “I feel sorry for some of the kids that have to go miles to get home and are not
rich enough to get eligibility for the bus system” I think to myself as I see the weather outside and
it definitely looked frightfully cold. I wish that those who had to walk would get home before the
blizzard, even if it was currently snowing outside, they should still hurry or find a ride with
someone.
As I wind my way through the halls, I see the faces of happiness, sadness, hope, and the
normal drone like look a lot of people get once set into a routine. For me it was just depression
mixed with curiosity since this was going to be a more entertaining weekend than what I could
remember for the past couple of months. The only reason it was going to be more entertaining is
that the new decorations we have for Christmas will arrive tomorrow and I was absolutely thrilled
at seeing the crappyass house looking decent for the holidays.
I notice my brother Francis at the exit with this other guy. My only guess is that the other
person is Carl. Carl is just… Carl. There is no explaining him at all. Kind of reminds me of Pinkie,
but then again, I don’t like spontaneous stuff. Spontaneous events don’t bode well with me and
especially parties, I hate surprise parties. Okay, maybe hate is strong, but I usually immediately
walk out of the room and walk back in once I was ready. Thankfully, Carl doesn’t pull out a
cannon and fire it in school just to spruce up a room for a party. “That would add a little
excitement to any day” I mused to myself.
As I approach them, Carl looks over towards me with a look that had “you have fun”
painted on his goofy face, and then proceeded to walk off. As I get even closer, Francis looks to
me, expectant to hear me ask some question relating to what had transpired.
All I do say is “Ready?”
“Sure, why not?” He returns.
As we walk home in relative silence, I ponder how the house would look with the
Christmas lights. The image alone makes me laugh a little. Seeing a three room shed basically
rimmed with little lights. Francis looks to me with a “What?” face and I just wave him off.
10 minutes later
We arrived at home, and I finally can get back to doing what I was putting off last night.
What I hadn’t realized is that Francis looked a little off the whole time. I only noticed it when he
immediately went to his room and not to the kitchen to grab a snack. Wondering what could be
wrong, I follow.
“This is bad. This is bad. This is so, so bad.”
What’s he talking about? I am about to question him when I remember that it really isn’t
my place to ask what is wrong 'cause this is probably related to something to school. If that is the
case, I am usually no help, whatsoever.
Walking back to my room I look at my unfinished metal model car that has decided to
lose half the paint on it. “What am I going to do with you?” I sigh as I get back to work. If this car
was any other, I would be so happy, but no, it had to be metal, and that metal had to be a bitch to
paint. I decide to try and at least get it back to how it looked earlier, but decided against it since it
was just going to be the same in the morning.
Out of the blue my stomach decides to have a riot at not having anything for lunch. “Heh,
shouldn’t be surprised that didn'tI feel hungry after seeing that sandwich as it was. Wonder what’s
in the fridge?” I ramble to myself as I walk quickly, the hunger pangs intensifying a little bit.
When I walk into the kitchen, my hunger suddenly goes away. “What? Now I am not hungry?
What gives?” I question myself and my stomach.
Later
In the land of dreams there is said to be someone who can watch over you. Whether
they're family or friends long passed, and/or greater being that resides over us all. I have always
pictured that being something akin to the Grim reaper and a butler put together. The only downside
to that, I think, is that since I have given that being form, they just want to piss me off in my
dreams, 'cause I always end up with the short end of the stick in so many situations.
This particular dream was especially cold and it felt as if there was something I was
“resting” on that was much harder than dreams normally made stone out to be. The worst part is
that I heard talking, and, as usual with a dream, the conversation could never be made out, but as
background noise. This dream was also brighter. Too bright.
I open my eyes, and see the sun. “What the hell?”