Cold ❅

Written By DWilliam 1/14/2011 03:11:00 AM

It was raining by the time I found my way back to the highway, a light drizzle falling down in slow waves through the night sky. Cars and the occasional sixteen wheeler splashed pass me, headlights illuminating a ragged street sign as they went. After some squinting and blinking I was barely able to make out reflective letters that spelled: Tanic, 4 miles. 


I stood there in the rain, which--in true Texas fashion--had started to fall harder, and stared at the words, expecting to feel something. I wasn't sure what. Relief maybe. Or some sort of nostalgia. Maybe regret, or heartache. But as I stood there in the now heavy rain, I felt only Cold.


I swept my hands through my hair, damp strands slipping out of my face, looking away from the sign. I wasn't going to get home by standing there, and I had a long hike ahead of me. Not to mention the fact that there might be people watching the roads for me. I tried to shrug off the uneasy feeling I had from my lack of feeling at the sight of such a simple symbol, but it still nagged from the back of my mind. There was just so much that I had left unresolved when I left. Most of it was just simple closure stuff that I had thought I had gotten over through the years, but truth be told, I wasn't sure what awaited me in Tanic. Even more unsettling--


I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. 


The horn from a passing Ford Focus brought me out of my memories and doubts. I shook my head at myself,  managing not to start a conversation with my subconscious as was my usual cure to introspection. After a thought I realized that I probably looked like Lassie after a shower, shaking my shaggy water-logged head. That thought cheered me up a little. Lassie always made it back home safe.


Finding no other reason to stand there like an idiot there in the open were I would either get arrested or hit by a vehicle, I set my eyes forward into the drizzling darkness. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets before they could fill with water, put one soggy Converse in front of the other and began the walk back to the place I shouldn't have been returning to. 


After all, dead men don't typically return to their graves. 


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It would figure that the first thing I saw was the stupid High School Auditorium. Well, what was left of it anyway. The framework was up, reaching up at the sky in a skeletal grasp. Judging by the sheen I got in my vision from the more and more frequent lightning, it looked like the school district had opted for steel girders instead of wooden planks. Third times' the charm I guess. I thought I could still see smoke flitting around in the air, but it was probably just my imagination. I adjusted my coat, rolling some trapped water out of the collar, and kept walking.   


I came into Tanic proper down Wall Street, walking along the curb until I got to the intersection at Main Street. The city seemed so much more smaller than I remembered it. Maybe it was because the storm clouds had wrapped themselves tightly around the dinky buildings and street-corners, the rain hammering hard so the winds didn't blow them away. Even with all of that though, it was all still here. The cars were a little more used, although the rain had seen to it that the layers of dust that were typically on West Texan cars were washed clean. I always liked the rain in Tanic. I liked the rain just about anywhere, but in Tanic it just seemed more...natural. Everything shone. even the cracked asphalt. It was as if the sky wanted to wash all of the dust and dirt that had gathered in the small town over the years and polish it clean. I suppose I felt that way because in my time here, the rain had wash away just as much blood.


I walked down the sidewalk; half relived, half amazed that everything was still here. The used bookstore, the run down hardware store that I used to buy supplies from, even the hole-in-the-wall burger joint were me and my first Love had our first date. Painful flashes of nights long past played behind my eyes at the thought of Lea. Of evenings sitting on the rooftop of a now burnt down church. Long, seemingly meaningless walks overt the fields that surrounded the town, filled with talk of the most obscure things. Of our first night together, and the promise I made her after.


I jerked my head to the other side of the street before that thought could ferment in my brain for too long, and shoved the memories far, far away from me. I focused on the twenty four hour diner  on the corner instead, the only patrons stepping out the door.


If I had hesitated for a few more seconds, I would have missed her.


God help me, I had forgotten how lovely she was. She was wearing a simple white skirt with black flats, making her seem smaller than she was. A darker black blouse hugged her back and chest, defiantly absent of a coat. Her smooth raven hair hung around her like a parted curtain, framing her heart-shaped face. She was smiling, and it did wonders to her brown eyes. The second person, a tall man in a tweed hat and dark coat, opened up a large umbrella, holding it out for her to get under.


Instead of stepping under the shelter alone, Lea slipped her hand around the man's waist and pulled herself close. He moved his head down, and she went onto the tips of her toes and--


I looked away.


I turned my back to the couple, and the light that shone out from the diner, and slipped back in to the dark and the rain, the thunder rolling all the more wilder overhead. A stiff breeze curled around my legs, but I didn't shiver.


I was already cold enough anyway.


---✇---- 







A Writer's Block Quickie

Written By DWilliam 10/09/2010 12:08:00 AM

Not much today, just felt like I should put something up. So here's one of (Many) the strips of A Writer's Block

Chapter One- Part One

Written By DWilliam 7/13/2010 12:36:00 AM

Alright, Alright, Alright! Here we go, the first part of the first chapter. (granted, this is like the third version of the first chapter, but I digress). THIS IS NOT THE FULL THING! Just a disclaimer. There would be no fun in putting that much text up anyway. 


"So, without further gilding the Lilly, and no further a do..." 


Here it is!
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Chapter I 



First rule of doing anything against the status quo: 


Don’t get caught. 

I pondered this obvious revelation as I sat in a remarkably uncomfortable chair outside an equally unremarkable office. I tried to scratch my wrist where the handcuffs rubbed rough against skin. I failed, rolling my eyes and sighing indignantly. I caught movement on the outer edge of my peripherals and turned to see the uniformed boy in blue staring at me with an amused smile on his pudgy face. 

I’m not being stereotypic, he was pudgy. 

Instead of giving him my typical scowl, I simply looked back at him and smiled. Administration had decided it was in the best interest of everyone involved to have a uniform “keep an eye on me”. So considering the powers that be felt the need to make me an example by using a peace officer on a minor, I found it within my duties to have some fun with him. 

I dropped my smile and I reached inside my coat. The cop went for his taser. Even with the cuffs limiting my movement, I had my hand in my pocket before the chubby guy had his near his belt. By the time he had his “weapon” drawn I had my limb back out. His face went blank and stared at what I had fished out.

I gave the poor guy my best grin and asked as innocently as possible, “Gum?” 

Before he had a chance to respond or get the red laser sight of the stun gun off of my throat, a rather annoyed voice came from behind the doorway.

“He can come in.” I got up without a word and walked around the corner and the two feet to the chair in the afore mentioned office. 

It was your standard public school office. Lots of wood furniture, wood bookshelves organized with books no one ever read, even more wood knick-knacks, one of those overused and ineffective inspirational posters, and the pungent stench of burnt coffee. Everything you would expect from a Vice Principal‘s abode. I knew the drill by now- I calmly walked into the workplace, sat down in front of the desk and waited. Facing me on the desk was a small brass name plaque that read: Vice Principal Valdez. 

I put on my happy face and did my best to annoy the man more than I already had , “Hiya Marty! How’s every little thing? Me? Oh I’m great. Thanks for asking. Got a little twang in my wrist, but otherwise I‘m have a fantastic day! Yourself?”

He ignored me, instead he kept his eyes where they had been since I had entered his office: looking over a moderately large file- My file. I continued to wait as he thumbed through the papers.

Martin Valdez was upwards of thirty years old, which was not bad for a VP. Average height and build, he looked like he belonged in a kakis and a cheesy tie. Id bet dollars to donuts he came out of the womb in some. His Hispanic features were mostly prominent, but by his lean physique and lighter skin color, his mother was probably white. It was just a guess though. 

Oh, and he’s a colossal tool.  

The silence stretched. I kept sitting impatiently, Valdez quiet sans the occasional flipping sound of paper. Five mints turned into ten, and still I sat. I was just about ready to throw out some words that shouldn’t be used in a school when he calmly set the novel that was my dossier down, pulled one sheet from the top out, and began to read. All without so much as a hello. Which was just rude.

“Dean Ulysses Archer. Sophomore-Age: sixteen. Parents: None- Ward of the State of Texas. Office Referrals: twenty five- Now twenty six- and over one hundred other write-ups, faculty complaints, Tardy slips, and school safety violations.” He set the file down calmly and his eyes moved up to mine at last, betraying his neutrality. 



Valdez loved this part. The stare down. He would do his best to get a rise out of me so he could nail me with some other ridiculous charge or accusation, and I would do one of two things in return:



One: I would do everything in my teenage power to piss him off, causing grey hairs, pulsating skull veins, and-my personal favorite- speechlessness. 


And then there was Two: Nothing. I could just sit here and take whatever underhanded and subtle insults he threw my way, shrug it off and smile. Both techniques were tried and true to work, and I've used each pretty effectively in my time at Tanic. But today i decided to mix it up-


I thought I'd try a bit of both.


Letting Pain Run It's Course

Written By DWilliam 7/09/2010 04:50:00 PM

I flopped down onto the box of springs, cardboard and foam that was my bed, feeling more alone by the second. 

I had lived with lonelyness before, the life I lead, I didn’t really have a choice. But some nights were harder than others. Some nights the dinner of chopped ramen and burnt Spaghetti-o’s just wasn’t enough. Some nights the emptiness I felt threatened to eat me up whole, swallow me down into the deepest, darkest pit of myself. Some nights all I wanted was a kind voice to whisper that everything was going to be alright, that everything I was going through was going to be worth something in the end. Some nights I just wanted somebody there that gave a damn-not to talk or even listen, just someone…there.

I guess that’s one of the reasons why me and the Almighty don’t talk anymore. 

Living with that type of pain though, you find ways to harness it…or hide it. I was getting pretty good at the latter. I would take all the hollowness I felt and put it into one, concise ball of will. I could then do whatever I wanted with it. It would be easy, hell, it would make me fell a whole lot better. I could do it, and I’ve done it before.

But not tonight.

Tonight I would put into practice the most time honored tradition of single-self-loathing teenagers everywhere:

Brooding.

It’s hard to explain-and even harder too understand-but every once-in-a-while I just wanted to leave the pain alone. Let it run it’s course. 

My dingy apartment was quiet, clean as it could be all things considered, and the cockroach problem was being dealt with. My computer was off, my phone unplugged from the wall and off the reciver for good measure. My window and door were locked, dead bloted, and that stupid useless chain that is standard on all apartment doors was latched. I was sealed away from the outside world and as safe as I was ever going to get.

So I kept a few candles lit in my room, curled into my stupid bed, and listened to the rain smack against the windowpanes, hoping silently that all this pain would be worth it.