Wasted
Posted: 2005-11-21 07:51pm
A story I wrote after being bored. Haven't wrote anything in a while. Tell me what you think.
Wasted
By FaxModem1
Joshua and Jake were in the park, playing on a tire yard, jumping from tire to tire. Normal activities for boys just out of school, except, these boys aren’t in school. They are enjoying their day off from the Air Force, without having to get an Article 15 or a DUI at their base. Jake pushes Josh off a tire, Josh struggles, falls and gets a nice Demolition Derby tire right in the ribs.
“Oh shit, you okay Josh?” Jake says as he hops down.
Josh slowly gets up, with more things wounded that just his pride.
“I’m fine.” He barely breathes out as he leans his back against a tire, its tread long gone, and “I think I need a moment though.”
“Well, the score is now 2 to 1. I’ve pushed you off twice now. One more and I win.”
“Yeah yeah, you play dirty, that’s why.”
That was a fun moment, Josh thought as he chuckled aloud, one of only a few. God, I wish I had done more when I was young. Oh, I could’ve done so much more.
Josh remembers, when he was back in high school, when he was a senior, during football season, the Friday nights at the stadiums, playing the baritone, wishing the weather was nicer, and sweating like a pig in a uniform that was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever being comfortable in his uniform. The only time he ever was when the uniform was to wear a band T-shirt and jeans, which is what he always wore(the jeans and the T-shirt, not band ones). He remembered playing as he marched, breathing through his nose, drips of sweat going from his forehead to his eyes, almost blinding him and fogging up his glasses before he made the smart decision to remove before he marched.
He remembered what it always felt like to be done with the marching with that week, like he accomplished something as he grabbed a soda and regained his seat. He always felt like he lost 5 pounds when he took off the Marching Band vest, of course, with the collected sweat added to it, he was probably right. Although Josh was no athlete, like most of those who joined marching band, who joined mostly to get out of going to PE, and was a little on the tubby side, Josh felt like he had a great workout after marching during a half-time show and felt nothing but euphoria.
Then there were the trips, Disney World, The Alamo, Panama City, and New Orleans (a year before the Hurricanes had sprung up). He remembered wanting not to be alone in high school, and falling in love with one of his closest friends. It was an emotion that had gone straight to his soul, even if the love was unrequited, and when the friend had found out, how badly the friendship was tested, but that it had improved, day by day.
He remembered having never been kissed or kissing anyone. Remembering what it was like in high school, being one of the loser kids, going stag to prom, even after he had asked out a dozen of his fellow classmates. Remembered Graduation, where they had pronounced his name wrong, and he waited 30 seconds for them to say his name before he was pushed onto stage, almost tripping into the principal, and later wishing he had.
He remembered his mom going through his journal when he was school, and her confronting him on his darkest secrets. Things he now wondered he should have told her right then and had been honest about.
He remembers helping take care of his mom, when her mental illness was worse and the medication wasn’t up for the job. He remembers her putting him through blood tests, her putting him in private schools, where his life was threatened, but he still supported through childhood and the teen years. Wondering what their life would have been like had she not needed Medication, if they were both always able to hold onto their jobs and not always be screwed by the system.
Josh looked up for a moment, at least, his version of up, all he could see was bent metal and military gear strewn about. The military, the Air Force….
Josh remembers leaving home, and going to basic training, where so many dreams felt shattered and only nightmares came during sleep. He remembers the bad times, as he was pushed; farther than he thought he could go. He remembers being sent back a week so close to graduation, having everything taken away from him, and realizing that the Air Force didn’t care for him or watch out for him, only its own interests and that he was only a tool in the matter. That he was all alone, always alone.
Then tech school came, he remembers feeling alive again, tested again and again for different things, but this time, he felt like he was expanding his horizons, learning what he was doing. He remembers going on his first date, and how much of a failure it was. How his friend had shown no interest in him, and slept with somebody else while they were becoming better friends. How she had made him feel like a fool, again. He always felt like he was a fool, waiting in some movie to become the comic relief, because he felt the part perfectly.
He remembers being home, if only for a short while, and seeing all his old friends again. Some, if all, had changed, or he had changed too much from them. They had all moved on without him, and he felt alone, again.
Then he remembered moving to the north, doing what seemed a pointless job, but making friends along the way. Then the phone calls came, the parents splitting up, the friends seeming to be less eager to talk to him, his old life seemed to be dying, bit by bit.
His new one was just starting to hatch. He remembered good times, like the tire yard, going to the movies with friends, having good meals and deep philosophical discussions with friends. His life was going up, but as always, he felt alone, and like he wasted his life, maybe he had.
Josh looked down, at least, his version of down, he was still buckled in, and that’s why he was still strapped in, why all the blood was rushing to his head. Watching his own blood fall upwards from his body was amazing yet sad to watch. The driver was dead, crushed by the frame collapsing on him. All Josh could think to himself as he drifted out of consciousness was, God, I’ve wasted my life.
Tell me what you think, tell me what was wrong with it, tell me what was right, its only a first draft after all.
Wasted
By FaxModem1
Joshua and Jake were in the park, playing on a tire yard, jumping from tire to tire. Normal activities for boys just out of school, except, these boys aren’t in school. They are enjoying their day off from the Air Force, without having to get an Article 15 or a DUI at their base. Jake pushes Josh off a tire, Josh struggles, falls and gets a nice Demolition Derby tire right in the ribs.
“Oh shit, you okay Josh?” Jake says as he hops down.
Josh slowly gets up, with more things wounded that just his pride.
“I’m fine.” He barely breathes out as he leans his back against a tire, its tread long gone, and “I think I need a moment though.”
“Well, the score is now 2 to 1. I’ve pushed you off twice now. One more and I win.”
“Yeah yeah, you play dirty, that’s why.”
That was a fun moment, Josh thought as he chuckled aloud, one of only a few. God, I wish I had done more when I was young. Oh, I could’ve done so much more.
Josh remembers, when he was back in high school, when he was a senior, during football season, the Friday nights at the stadiums, playing the baritone, wishing the weather was nicer, and sweating like a pig in a uniform that was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever being comfortable in his uniform. The only time he ever was when the uniform was to wear a band T-shirt and jeans, which is what he always wore(the jeans and the T-shirt, not band ones). He remembered playing as he marched, breathing through his nose, drips of sweat going from his forehead to his eyes, almost blinding him and fogging up his glasses before he made the smart decision to remove before he marched.
He remembered what it always felt like to be done with the marching with that week, like he accomplished something as he grabbed a soda and regained his seat. He always felt like he lost 5 pounds when he took off the Marching Band vest, of course, with the collected sweat added to it, he was probably right. Although Josh was no athlete, like most of those who joined marching band, who joined mostly to get out of going to PE, and was a little on the tubby side, Josh felt like he had a great workout after marching during a half-time show and felt nothing but euphoria.
Then there were the trips, Disney World, The Alamo, Panama City, and New Orleans (a year before the Hurricanes had sprung up). He remembered wanting not to be alone in high school, and falling in love with one of his closest friends. It was an emotion that had gone straight to his soul, even if the love was unrequited, and when the friend had found out, how badly the friendship was tested, but that it had improved, day by day.
He remembered having never been kissed or kissing anyone. Remembering what it was like in high school, being one of the loser kids, going stag to prom, even after he had asked out a dozen of his fellow classmates. Remembered Graduation, where they had pronounced his name wrong, and he waited 30 seconds for them to say his name before he was pushed onto stage, almost tripping into the principal, and later wishing he had.
He remembered his mom going through his journal when he was school, and her confronting him on his darkest secrets. Things he now wondered he should have told her right then and had been honest about.
He remembers helping take care of his mom, when her mental illness was worse and the medication wasn’t up for the job. He remembers her putting him through blood tests, her putting him in private schools, where his life was threatened, but he still supported through childhood and the teen years. Wondering what their life would have been like had she not needed Medication, if they were both always able to hold onto their jobs and not always be screwed by the system.
Josh looked up for a moment, at least, his version of up, all he could see was bent metal and military gear strewn about. The military, the Air Force….
Josh remembers leaving home, and going to basic training, where so many dreams felt shattered and only nightmares came during sleep. He remembers the bad times, as he was pushed; farther than he thought he could go. He remembers being sent back a week so close to graduation, having everything taken away from him, and realizing that the Air Force didn’t care for him or watch out for him, only its own interests and that he was only a tool in the matter. That he was all alone, always alone.
Then tech school came, he remembers feeling alive again, tested again and again for different things, but this time, he felt like he was expanding his horizons, learning what he was doing. He remembers going on his first date, and how much of a failure it was. How his friend had shown no interest in him, and slept with somebody else while they were becoming better friends. How she had made him feel like a fool, again. He always felt like he was a fool, waiting in some movie to become the comic relief, because he felt the part perfectly.
He remembers being home, if only for a short while, and seeing all his old friends again. Some, if all, had changed, or he had changed too much from them. They had all moved on without him, and he felt alone, again.
Then he remembered moving to the north, doing what seemed a pointless job, but making friends along the way. Then the phone calls came, the parents splitting up, the friends seeming to be less eager to talk to him, his old life seemed to be dying, bit by bit.
His new one was just starting to hatch. He remembered good times, like the tire yard, going to the movies with friends, having good meals and deep philosophical discussions with friends. His life was going up, but as always, he felt alone, and like he wasted his life, maybe he had.
Josh looked down, at least, his version of down, he was still buckled in, and that’s why he was still strapped in, why all the blood was rushing to his head. Watching his own blood fall upwards from his body was amazing yet sad to watch. The driver was dead, crushed by the frame collapsing on him. All Josh could think to himself as he drifted out of consciousness was, God, I’ve wasted my life.
Tell me what you think, tell me what was wrong with it, tell me what was right, its only a first draft after all.
Incidentally the guy sounds like he's had a somewhat harder than normal life, but not particularly wasted, indeed he sounds like he's done more than most people would.