Sounds Like Teen Spirit

May 12, 2011
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Scratch, scratch, scratch. The pencil makes the most terrible noise as it scratches my name across the little black line. Casey. It stares back at me, a constant reminder of who i am. Casey Stark. Casey Stark. Casey. Stark. An echo in my mind. Repeating, never ending. I snap back to reality, my paper blank except for Casey scratched across the top. I look down the paper. Balancing equations. Yay, my favorite. Not. Mg, Cl, Mg2Cl. 1, 1, 2. Simple, easy, tedious. As is life. I finish my worksheet in record time, looking up and yawning. The clock ticks. Only ten seconds until class is out. The seconds seem to take forever. Tick, pop. The girl beside me pops her gum. Tick, tap. The kid behind me taps his foot on my chair leg. Tick, sniffle. My teacher blows his nose. Tick, snap. I push my pencil tip down too hard on the desk and it snaps. Tick, psst. A kid whispers across the room to his friend. Tick, zip. I pick up my bag, zipping it closed and slinging it over one shoulder. Tick, slide. My teacher stands, pushing in his chair and loudly clearing his throat. Ha. He thinks we listen to him. Tick, blahhh. He drones and points to the board. Homework for the weekend. Half of us wont do it. Tick, slip. I slide out from my seat. ‘Stark, sit down until-’ RINNNNNGGG! I’m outta this h*ll hole.

Squeal. My beat up ‘lil car squeals to a stop at my house. It sounds like a train. Huge and metal and loud. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. I turn off the car and just sit, breathing, listening. Tom’s car is here. I see a light in the kitchen, I can hear a faint muffled yell. Maybe scream. I stare at the front door. The single thing that divides my reality from my mask. No one knows what happens behind that door. Me, my sister, my ‘dad’ and my ‘mom’.

They insist we call them that. Makes everyone think were a happy family I guess. If only they knew.Tap, tap, tap. I tap my fingers on the dash. I listen more closely, no more yelling but the house is eerily silent. Just as I reach for the handle of my door, crash I hear the crinkle crash of the blinds and i see them wrinkle against the window and something slides down the inside of them. I choose this time to open my door and make a big deal about getting out. Slam. I slam my door and open my trunk. I slam it closed too, after throwing my bag in it. The sounds from the house have stopped. I walk to the door, unlocking it and slipping inside.

“I’m HOOOMMMEEE!” I yell, closing the door behind me and slinking off towards the stairs. Just as i reach the first step, salvation, Kate comes into the dimly lit living room. Her huge t-shirt pulled around her, a hat pulled down and large sweat pants cover her grotesquely deformed body. I see blood from the corner of her mouth but chose not to mention it.

“How was school?” she asks, as if interested.

“Wheres To-Dad?” I ask. Cutting myself off. My ‘mom’ grows a look of disapproval, both at the mention of him, and the fact that i hadn’t started by calling him Dad.

“Sleeping.” she said curtly. “Where are you going?”

“To my room.” I say and turn away, padding up the stairs and ignoring her other words. Step, step, bang. Hearing her soft footsteps behind me, I slam my door, letting her know she isn’t welcome and lock both locks on the door. I throw myself at the bed and reach for my headphones to block out the meek pounding on the door. Finally the door stops moving and I sigh. Just another day. I grab my keys and slip out my window, pulling it mostly closed behind me and crawl up to sit on the roof. Sizzle. The shingles burn my hands, hot from the California’s days’ sun. I crawl up and lay down on the slope. Jingle. I jingle my keys and think. Where to go? But I should wait for Mary. At least drop her at a friends. H*ll, I’ll just go pick her up from school now.

I slip my keys into my pocket and pull out my phone. I type up a quick text.
Recipient: Mary
Dnt ride bus. Ima pick u up. k?
I send. I slip down the roof’s slope and onto the balcony quietly. I can hear them fighting inside. Crack. A lamp or something else glass hits the wall. Bang. The door slams loudly and someone stomps out of that room. Buzz. My phone vibrates. Mary.
From: Mary
K... cant i just go 2 Sadeys again?
All the better, no stops on my way.
Recipient: Mary
K. lemme kno when u need a ride.
From: Mary
Cool. Thnks :)

I jump down the balcony ledge and land in the garden. Kate’s going to be p*ssed. I just ruined the perfect garden every perfect family has. I don’t even know how they afford this cr*p. I’m pretty sure i know where all their moneys going and its not to flower seeds. Or even their kids for that matter. I slip out of the garden and leave muddy footprints all the way to my car. ‘Screw you MOM.’ I say to the closed front door.Vroom, Bang. Just as I start up my car, the front door flies open and Tom stands there, looking just as full of p*ss and vinegar as ever. I put my car into reverse as quick as I can and slip out of the driveway as Tom runs out towards my car. CrunchCrunchCrunchCrunchCrunch. The gravel crunches under my tires as i pull out of the driveway, full speed. Dust flies up and I’m gone.

I drive leisurely at this point, not even worried that Tom will follow. He has things to do. Like beat on his wife, and drink, and go do whatever the h*ll it is he does. I try and decide where to go. In high school there are so many places, so people, so many things. Options, options, options. The abandoned house sounds like the ideal place to be right now. With luck, no on else will be there right now.

I drive straight to it, pulling up into the driveway. Someone owns this house. They just don’t care about it, or may not even remember it. Its just a plain old house. Cream colored on the outside, with brown trim. The paints peeling in places, mostly around the edges. I open my door and step out, twirling my keys around my finger. It doesn’t look like any one's here, but just to be safe i creep around the outside perimeter of the house. There’s a blue shed in the back. It’s where people hang out when they’re here. People would expect teenagers to go hang out in the house, not in the shed behind it. Expect the unexpected. Clank, Rustle. Someones here. The just hopped through the window on the back onto the tarp pushed against the wall inside. But they’re alone? No one ever comes here alone. Expect the unexpected I guess... I walk up to the side of the building and knock as warning to whoever is inside.

Walking around the side, im careful to step on any nails or anything. Its like booby trapped around here.Clank, Rustle. I crawl inside the window and land on the tarp. A girl sits in the corner, on a little two seater couch. A black frame, with yellow orange cushions. Totally seventies. She stares at me with wide black rimmed eyes. Too much makeup. Creak. She rocks in the couch and its frame makes a high pitched noise.
“Hey.” I say, slightly waving and sliding up to sit on a desk, in the other side of the shed.

“Hey...” She says. She looks scared. Creak.

“Something wrong?” I ask. I don’t know her but I still ask.

Creak. No reply. Well.... I open the top drawer of the desk and pull out a pack of cigarettes. Might as well. I hold the pack up as an offer of one to her and she just stares at it blankly.

“Want one?” I ask, prompting her.

Creak. Again, no reply. Somethings wrong. But she wont tell and isn’t wanting a smoke. What do I care? For some reason I just do.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask.

She snaps from a daze. “Huh?”

“Is something wrong? You seem helluh messed up.” My modern slanguage kicks in. Maybe I was just speaking a foreign language.

“I’m just a little... Tip-” Just as she’s about to finish her sentence she leans forward, head slumping. Creak. Definitely way worse than what I thought.

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VannaLa said...
Jun. 13, 2011 at 11:05 am
Note: All the sounds are in italics in the original text I wrote on a different program, and the text messages are in bold.
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