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5 Mississippi.....This story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Sean C. | |
| Monday, 07 April 2008 | |
The night air outside his window is cool and dry. He can feel the cold bricks through his thin nylon soccer shorts. He doesn't play soccer; they are his brother's shorts. Mike had been an all-star soccer player in high school and went on to get a scholarship to a state college. As a kid he use to love watching his brother play soccer. As a kid he use to love his brother. It has been almost three years since he has talked to Mike. The view outside his window is a painting of dull grays and dark browns. The rooftops cut into the horizon making familiar figures you have to look for to see; like clouds in the sky. It reminds him of a time with his father. He has always loved his father. He feels his dad is an extraordinary man put in the ordinary situation of having a wife and kids. He wishes he could be as smart as his father. Before his father lost his job they would watch jeopardy and play along. He got such a thrill watching his father answer questions right, which the leading contestant answered wrong. “Don't let the old man fool you with this act. Your father is an idiot. Did you hear me Daniel? You're an IDIOT!” Sometimes during the show his mother would come in the room and with her she would bring the distinct smell of Christmas trees and mint; two smells he would not decipher until he reached high school. He loves Daniel. He finds himself suddenly jolted out of deep thought by a sharp pain in his left heel. With out realizing it, his dangling leg has been rubbing up against the coarse bricks that line the space below his window. It is a bad habit he has picked up from years of sitting in chairs that don't allow his feet to touch the ground. He feels it is a habit that has been genetically passed to him by his mother from her years of sitting on bar stools. His mother is the woman you see in the grocery store or at the gas station buying up all the menthols for fear that the cigarette companies will stop making them; or that lady in line at the local ABC store with an arm full of dry gin pints because they are out of liters. She is a woman torn apart by a fear of getting old, by the regret of having a family to soon. She is Sarah. She hates Daniel. He hates Sarah. He picks out a single drop of blood from the steady stream coming from his heel and counts how long it takes to hit the ground below. It takes five seconds. Behind him in the background of the apartment he hears his parents arguing. He cannot remember a time when there was no arguing. Because of this fact he hypothesizes that the arguing came along when he did. The arguing has grown to such a fevered pitch he cannot escape into thought anymore; it reaches him once again. Like a low hanging cloud blocking his view of something beautiful, he cannot think through it anymore. In a moment of pure hatred and pain he screams out, “SHUT THE HELL UP!” His voice echoes through the streets below and for a moment he feels everything go quiet. The door to his bedroom swings open and he looks over his shoulder to see his parents silhouetted in the light of the hallway. He cannot see their faces but he imagines they are contorted with concern and panic at the sight of their son sitting out on the window ledge. His parents take a step forward. He knows what they are coming to do. They are coming to tell him it is not his fault. They are coming to cry with him and tell him that things will get better. They are coming to lie to him. He hears a scream, “David NOOOOOOOO!” As he falls through the cool night air he counts. One Mississippi Two Mississippi Three Mississippi Four Mississippi He looks back towards his window and sees two faces that are unidentifiable. He is Daniel. She is Sarah. He was David. Five Missi.
Copyright 2008 Sean C. |
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