Monster Tamer
As I walk into the kitchen, the air grew tense, denser. My body becomes stiff and I grow more anxious. It angers me, everything makes me angry. My younger sister is eating her usual cereal, frosted flakes, she glances up blankly at me and shifts over to the next seat, welcoming me to sit. My mother falls silent, seemingly afraid will start an argument. She continues to wash the dishes from last night's dinner.
I search the cupboards looking my jar of peanut butter, nothing.
“Where is my peanut butter?” I demand, “I can’t have toast without it!”
My mother doesn’t look at me, “Joshua, it is not Your peanut butter. Someone must have eaten it all. Just eat the damn cereal”.
I look down and see the bag of bread swaying in my stiff shaking hands. I want to scream. I hate cereal, this isn’t good enough.
“Whatever” I say as I throw the bread on the counter and pick up my bag. “I will just grab something while I am out.”
“Out?” Mother inquires, “you are going to school, first period starts in half an hour..”
“Yes mother,” I say in a very mocking tone. “ I need to leave this freaking house to get to school.”
I slam my backpack on the table to make my point. The sound rings in my ears, it was actually soothing. It gave me a minute to not think about my internal pain.
My mother looks at me unimpressed, “Well, lets hope you actually go to school today, Josh. You have yet to attend once this week.” Her lips pushed to the side.
“How the hell would you know?” I snipped. She’s right, I know she’s right, and she knows it too. But I am a liar, my face goes red “I’ve gone every day…” I protested but I am just a worthless liar.
“Okay dear,” my mother says, wishing she had just kept her mouth closed. I know the look at this point, the one where she thinks I have gone off the rails, - whether it is hanging out with friends (the wrong crowd), going out drinking or smoking god knows what, swearing all the damn time. I do think I need an escape though.
“Don't listen to what the school says, or anyone, the school hates me!” We look at each other.
The face she makes says it all, just as if she had said it, I don’t blame them, have you looked at yourself. I think she hates me too. Sometimes I hate myself. I mean.. Most of the time.
“Please try to go to your classes,” She said it as nice as she could and I dramatically gather my stuff. “Okay, no idea when i’ll be back.” I state.
I think I hear them say the later the better. I wouldn’t blame them, I am a monster. In better words there is a monster in me and I need to kill it. I need to be better but I can’t find a way to be. I need to face myself.
I step outside into the early morning sun, it is so bright today, it fills the sky with a yellow, orange hue. My back weighs heavy on my back, filled with alcohol and cigarettes. These are the tools to my happiness, my sanity. Better yet my education. I need them.
Soon the sky is over taken by clouds and the sun ducks away. The streets begin to darken as the rain starts hitting the ground. I turn up my collar, and bend my cap against the rain. It casts a shadow across my face and I like it. It hides how pale I have become, I am a ghost. Sometimes I can almost see the monster rushing around beneath my skin.
“Joshua!” There is a cry from the shadows.
I quickly scoot up under the overhang, ducking through the falling water. I smell weed, the smoke encircling the two teenagers like. It hangs there and they hang there, looking at me with red eyes.
I inhale deeply through my nose, and it just burns. The pain is a comfort. It takes my mind off the hole in my heart. “You okay guys?” I take out my cheapest bottle from my bag.
“I think we are now” Scott laughs.
Scott has been my friend since I moved to this shit town, he gets me but I am far worse than he suspects. Unlike him I do go to school sometimes, he doesn’t seem to care, at least not about the future. Time scares me, past, and the future, hell, even the present.
I eye the drug, hungrily. I have never tried marijuana. I have never had the courage. But the rage has never been this strong, it was roaring at me.
Scott’s friend Ben, sees my gaze.“Did you want to try some?” he said as he moved his hand slowly towards me. I feel my stomach cramp. I feel all of my emptiness and the pain. The hell with it all. I am killing myself with a bottle a day at 16. I need help. I want get rid of the pain, I want rid of the emptiness, the loneliness. I need more. What I have is just not working. I need more. I hate my painful self and I can only feel free by escaping. Escaping the monster. I need more. The alcohol isn’t enough. The cigarettes aren’t enough. They don’t stop the pain. I need more.
“It’ll have you soaring,” Scott Snips.
Ben snickers, putting the joint out, but Scott grabs his arm. “You know, J,” he says, “you’ve only been hanging around with us for a few months. I’m not sure you’re ready. I don’t think you have the metal to enter into this deeper stuff.”
“I’m ready,” I mumble. I want it.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Scott looks blank at me. “Prove you’re brave enough. Break into Mr Sheppard’s.”
I blink. “What?”
“Break into his house, don’t take anything, just prove the point.” Scott smiles. “You want it don’t you.”
I want it. I need it.
“Prove it, prove your strength,” Scott says again.
I feel ashamed. This isn’t who I am, but I need to prove to him I am worthy. I drag myself to the back of the store, where all of the apartment entrances are. My body is pumping through me, it increases my pain and my loneliness.
When I reach his apartment I can’t do anything but stare at the chipping paint. My head is pounding, almost screaming. The rain is pounding down on the ground, screaming. I feel the rage roaring through me as I step back and prepare to send my foot through the door. The puddle beneath me catches my eye, my reflection. Cold, my reflection stares back at me. I am a ghost, a ghost of my former self. I can see right into my eyes and into my soul it seems. I see the pain, and I can see the loneliness, the rage is gone. I stare a at a monster, lost of it’s rage.
I start to back away from the door. I don’t need to prove I am worthy and have courage. Hell, does it take courage to break down an old man's door for weed. It takes courage to face yourself and walk away from a pressured and stressful situation. The drugs are helping me hide, hide from myself. I need courage to because it is hard to face my problems, it is scary. That’s what courage is. I stare, my heart feels free as the monster dies. And then I fall on my knees, and I cry. And the rage is in my tears and it disappears into the ground. The pain still remains, and my heart is still incomplete, but I am no longer afraid. And when I see the future, I am not afraid. I have hope.
