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 |  A journey of self-improvement - or not. |
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Sup? I'm Char. You may know me from timeless classics such as
and
I blog for things like
[Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya They say jump and ya say "how high?" Ya braindead, ya got a fuckin' bullet in ya head |
  "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  Prompt: Write about the biggest risk you ever took. What was the result?Ah, so many thoughts and feelings seeing this prompt... I'm impulsive. I do a lot of dangerous shit. I'd say the number one reason I lose friends is because they get sick of worrying about me. I've had that conversation more than a few times. "I'm not just going to sit around and watch you get yourself killed." "If you don't care, I don't care." It's rough. I'm getting better. One thing I'll say with certainty is that your bar for 'risky' gets raised substantially when you need something. I mean, it's surprising what we'll do in the name of survival. You'd do things totally out of character, beyond risky, if you felt like you needed to. I can think of so many situations where I did something dangerous and had that sinking feeling like... oh no. I'll pick one that wasn't overly disturbing for the sake of anyone who reads this.  So, I was like 16 and I was bouncing around from place to place, getting help from random people. Most of my days were sketchier than I would have liked. One of my friends was supposed to pick me up downtown one night and he was pretty late. I had my backpack so I leaned it against the side of a building and I was lying back on it waiting for my friend to show up because we were supposed to go to some party. It was probably like 10:30 or 11 o'clock at night. Some guy comes up to me and he's like, "Hey, kid, what are you doing?" I looked up thinking it might be building security. He was just like standard middle age dude. White hair, goatee, glasses, probably 5'11, 200lbs, wearing dress slacks with a collared button up tucked in. There were a bunch of bars and restaurants in the area so it's not like the sidewalks were empty or anything. Well, I didn't respond because I was like I don't know you, so whatever. He walks over and bumps the sole of my boot with his shoe and he's like, "Kid, I'm talking to you." I'm like, "Mind your own fucking business. Keep walking." He starts laughing and he's like, "You want a hot meal? I live right nearby, just on my way back from [somewhere I didn't know the name of, but assumed it was a bar]." I told him I was waiting for a friend so I was good. We went back and forth for a couple minutes with him saying shit like, you know, "You're all bones. Come on. Let me get you a hot plate. I know you're hungry. I'm a nice dude. Nothing weird going on. Just a nice guy. Wanna help you out. You're too young to be out here alone this late." I don't know if I was just really hungry or if I was sick of waiting for my friend or what, but I made this snap decision like, "Yeah, you live right here? Okay, yeah, let's go." So we're walking together and I notice immediately that his place is a bit farther than he'd told me. I think he said he lived a couple blocks, but it was more like 6 blocks or something. I was kind of getting this uneasy feeling, but the conversation was chill. You know, lighthearted. Exchanging first names, asking me where I'm from and that kind of stuff. As I'm walking with him, I notice other people on the sidewalks kind of glancing at us. For reference, when I was 16, I looked maybe 13 at most. I was like scrawny, tiny. So I'm a little uneasy, but he's telling me about his job and his wife who he says he separated from a while ago and they're trying to finalize their divorce and all this stuff. He's got this apartment downtown now and she's back in the suburbs with his kids. She won't let him see them. Basic family drama bullshit. All normal. We get to his apartment building and we go up to his apartment. He lets me in and flips on the lights. Everything looks normal, if not a bit empty. Like no dining room table or anything. Just a two-seat couch in the living room and a small tv in front of it. Then he's like, "Here, you can put your stuff in my bedroom." And he's kind of directing me like, "Yeah, straight back. Down the hallway." I don't know what it was, but you know when people say the hair on the back of their neck stood up or whatever? Well that happened in that moment. I think I almost got like a cold chill. I felt really scared suddenly. He noticed and he was like, "Hey, everything's cool. You don't need to be worried. I'm a nice guy." Kind of that whole spiel again. He's like, "Come on, let's take your stuff back here and I'll heat you up some soup or something. You like grilled cheese?" I knew then it wasn't normal because, obviously, it's like why does my shit need to go in your bedroom? All I have is a backpack. I can just drop it in the doorway. But he was really like directing me to go so I started walking to the back of the apartment down a short hallway. We get to his bedroom and he flips the light on. No bedside tables or dressers or anything, just a bed and a metal bar headboard and bed frame. He tells me I can just toss my backpack onto the bed. And as I do that, he slams into me from behind knocking me onto the bed. We start kind of like fighting or wrestling with each other and all of a sudden I hear click. I look up and he's got my right wrist handcuffed to one of the metal bars on the bed frame. Of all the times in my life that I've panicked, this wasn't one of them. I felt like a gazelle that had been caught by a cheetah. You know how they just lay down? It was like I instantly accepted my fate, and I remember so vividly my thought process was just like, Damn, Charlie, you seriously messed up. That really sucks. Almost like I was just disappointed. I didn't scream or fight or do anything. I just laid there with that feeling. He was just staring at me with a completely blank expression. It was totally silent. And then as quickly as he'd cuffed my wrist, he laughed and said, "I'm just fucking with you, kid" and uncuffed me. Then he walked out of the room into the kitchen and started rummaging around in the cabinets. I still had no reaction at all. It's crazy to say now, but I didn't even leave. In fact, I left my backpack on his bed. Just walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch. I felt like this massive void inside of me. Just utter emptiness. I didn't feel anything except this hole in me. He didn't say anything. He made me soup from a can that comes out in one can-shaped lump. He brought it over to me and apologized for not having a table or at least a TV tray. He said he was planning on buying a bigger place once his divorce was finalized. He went into his bathroom while I ate. He came out a little while later and took the bowl from me and started washing the dishes. I stood up and I was like, "Hey, I should go because my friends are probably waiting for me." And he was just like, "Okay, don't forget your bag." So I walked to his room, watching my back this time, but he stayed at the kitchen sink. I was like, "Well... thanks for the soup." He was like, "Yeah, no problem." Then I just walked out. Once I got back down to the street level, everything felt surreal. Now I know I was feeling derealization, but I didn't have that word at the time, so I started aimlessly wandering around downtown. Not really thinking about or feeling anything. I wound up at a different friend's house. I had helped him move in a couple weeks before that in exchange for some pills. He was living in a tiny studio apartment with just a mattress on the floor. His boxes were still packed and just stacked up where we'd left them. His girlfriend was mega pissed because I woke them up at like 2 or 3 in the morning. I asked them if I could sleep there and he was kind of like, "Um, we don't really have anywhere for you to sleep." They didn't even have a couch or anything. I was like, "Please, I'm so tired. Can I just lay down on the floor?" His girlfriend luckily softened up then and said of course. So she gave me one of their pillows and a blanket. I just laid down in the hardwood floors and instantly passed out. Like the fastest I've ever fallen asleep. And that was it. All in all, a fine result. Plus I got some soup out of it. But it was just a strange situation that I never quite worked out. I don't know what happened in that moment between me and this dude. I've thought about it since and I'm leaning toward thinking the guy might have actually been a police officer. I mean, who else can produce handcuffs that quickly and snap them on so deftly? But I don't know what his actual intent was. I don't know if he really was just messing around with a sense of humor that I'll never be able to comprehend. Or if he was trying to teach me a lesson like, "Hey, dumbass, don't go with random people because they could easily hurt you." Or if he had intended to actually hurt me, but wasn't able to follow through once the opportunity presented itself. There's no real way of knowing, but not one of my better judgment calls to say the least. Stoic Thought of the Day: I came as flowers, I came as nice. I came as dirt, and I came as its price. -Modest Mouse |
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