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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Experience · #2270697
1 minute of thought
All day I thought of the promises I made about getting everything for the New Years' party. "Look I am 22 or "suin" years old, and poor!" I fretted, talking aloud to the cat. "No dude." Answering for the cat,. "You are 16 nipple-head!" Fuk I truly felt way older than I was. Losing my father to a massive heart attack when I was five years old has always been heavy when it came to words, ya know like "Yeah, this is for sure, fuk yeah, like have I ever lied to you?" Or, "I got this, I'll make it happen". Heavy, heavy, weight. A wave of emotion hit me remembering my father, holding me by my shoulders. Recalling a moment, my fifth birthday, that day, May, spring, we shared the same birth month, but, I was a Taurus, my Dad, he was Gemini. Again speaking to the cat, "What does that matter?" Yeah so my thoughts, Big Al said to me, "I will never die before I see you grown baby boy." I was the youngest of three. My brother is almost 5 years older, and my sister is almost 5 years older than he. All flashing in my thoughts. Why? He lied, he was dead 14 days after my birthday. Yeah, the 21st of May. Big Al fell short of forty-five by nine days. Shaking my head I focused on the day, "Try not to draw blood on the ever-present bastards of torment." Again talking out loud to the ca..myself. "And somehow get this shite for the party." Oh, and I was thinking to myself, "Please do not let Mom or my brother know ANYTHING! Spastikly nodding I grabbed my bookbag, god I love my bookbag, looked at it thinking of what is not in it that will make me piss and moan beating myself later over, it's good. One more pause, a deep breath, out my door up the steps from the basement I emerged. Calm, confident, and ready to get stoned on my walk to the RTD bus stop for the #21 Downtown.
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