Stark Reality

February 16, 2018
By brianfett BRONZE, Hampden, Massachusetts
brianfett BRONZE, Hampden, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Stark Reality 
My name is Michael and I am a hermit. Vagrant, homeless and cast out by society, not wanted or cared for by anybody and down by anything. Living far away not caring for anybody but myself, struggling to survive in the wilderness. As a young boy I acted as though I cared about nothing, I guess you get your personality from your parents because they sure as hell acted as though they didn’t much care about me. I went to school every failing just crying out for some shred of attention, but not once did they pay me any mind. As a young boy I needed an escape from the sad impoverished reality that surrounded me that I saw every day so, I turned to the only thing that could cure my depression. I started smoking and drinking very heavily. Everyday I would go home and smoke, but the days I couldn't get my hands on any weed I would break into my parent’s liquor cabinet and drink until I felt no more pain. Of course, my parents knew full well what was going on and they didn't care in the least about me filling my body with poison and throwing my life away. When I was around 16 years old I ran away from home and never looked back. I guess I was tired of people treating me like the dirt beneath their feet and I wanted to be anywhere but where I was then. I went from place to place continuing my habits of drinking and smoking until it couldn't help me escape my pain any longer and I turned to something that numbed me completely, heroin. I use almost any type of drug I can get my hands on, but heroin is the cheapest and easiest for me to get. Still I live on my own in my tent made of tarps hung over limbs on some low trees. The floor is a piece of plywood I found out here. I built my whole tent around an abandoned couch that I found in found here. The couch is a cream color, or rather was a cream color, now its covered in dirt and stains which have caked on and turned it a deep tan. The only interaction I have with people is to either pick up my government check or my drugs. I don't quite know why anyone reading this would care about my life or background, but I just went to my dealer and got some dope.
I put the fine white powder in a dirty spoon, I take my lighter and flick it to life. The powder turns into a brown liquid, i grab my clear syringe and draw up the murky brown liquid. I connect the fine metal tip of the needle to my skin, plunging it into a vein and I apply pressure on the plunger; sending the murky brown liquid into my veins. I feel it moving through my body until i close my eyes and fall asleep.

I awake and open my eyes and find myself on a couch inside a house. It’s a fairly large house with two stories and decorations all over the wall. I sit up and see two children running down the steps screaming, “daddy daddy.” and they jump onto my chest. I think these are my children. I greet them and lovingly put them down on the couch. I went to a bathroom to look in the mirror and see that I am staring a cleaner more well-groomed version of me. I suppose I’m having a vision of what would have been if I had chosen a better path for myself. I go into the kitchen to see a woman at the counter preparing food and it smells really good. She greets me and says, “damn must’ve been a long day at work, you’ve been asleep on the couch for an hour.” I am tired but I’m also hungry, and strangely I don't feel any cravings for drugs. I say,” yeah it was a rough day and I’m ready for whatever you're cooking.” She laughed, thanked me and I helped her bring the food to the table and served it to the children. We ate, it was extremely good, picked up the dishes and got ready for bed. I laid down in bed next to my beautiful wife, closed my eyes and fell asleep.

When I awoke I found myself in a small bed it looked to be the early afternoon judging by the light coming in from the windows. I heard commotion somewhere else in the house but above all I felt something, a massive urge to have a beer. I look down next to the bed and see a small icebox, I reach down open it and see a golden brownish glow of bottle of beer. Taking one in my hand I brought it up to my body and wrenched the cap off with my hands. I got up from bed drinking the beer and looked in a mirror positioned on the opposite wall from the bed. I saw a dark-skinned man with long hair and a fat belly, an Indian man. After observing myself for a while I walked toward the sound of commotion and found a woman next to a child on the ground playing with a small toy truck. They turned and looked at me with look of fear in their eyes.” Good morning” I said, with a loud nasty belch, “where is my breakfast, I’m hungry.” I said it like it was natural it was almost out of my control. The woman got up quickly and scrambled toward the kitchen where she began pulling things out of the fridge frantically. I plopped myself down onto the couch and turned on the TV with the remote that was placed next to me. When I turned on the TV I saw highlights of the football game from the previous night and for some reason they infuriated me, I took the remote and sent it straight through the tv sitting on the wall. By this time, I think I have had around four beers and I am definitely feeling it. With a hole in the tv on a table in the front of the room the woman came in screaming at me. “This is the last goddamn time I’m doing this s*** frank I’m calling the cops.” she screamed it with all her might as the small child is sitting on the floor crying and screaming. She ran out of the room and I got up and followed her. She took the phone off the receiver and started dialing, I ran to her and attempted to wrestle the phone out of her hand. I succeeded but only after she had dialed 911 and they heard the commotion. I yelled at her and punched her until her face bled. I had no control over what was doing franks anger consumed him and he started to beat her down. Kicking her and bruising her until she was crying and coughing blood onto the floor. The police burst through the door with clubs in their hands. They tried to beat me and restrain me, but I was much too big for them to handle. One of the cops tazed me but it didn't have any effect. One cop yells, “stop resisting or I’ll have to shoot.” I didn't stop resisting though. The cop drew his gun out of his holster, took off the safety, checked the magazine, put it back in and chambered a round. I saw him look down the illuminated sights. The gun flashed, sounded and my vision went black.

I woke up with a gasp as I realize where I am, I’m back in my tent in the woods. I must have passed out and hallucinated these things, maybe I really do need help. I’ll change my life and make something of myself. I’m done with these drugs, I’m going to find help to improve my life.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book