Jaded
The Accident
Mom tends to refer to my dad's death as "the accident", which is slightly true when an automobile collision occurs, but I find it a bit misleading. I mean I don't exactly know all the details, because as I've demonstrated before mom shags away from the idea of mentioning anything having to do with my father. The few details I was provided with by mom were quite contradictory.
"Think of it this way Samantha he died in the line of duty," I remember her saying. I think thats where it contradicts the whole "acciedent" theory.
Don't get me wrong I have the utmost respect for my dad, but come on he was a security guard at a music club in San Francisco not a cop.
The other information I was granted with were from the obituary in the news paper, and we all know what the media does with everything.
Here is the information I was able to gather: My dad had just gotten off his shift at a little past 3 A.M. that morning. He was parked in the back where a car rammed into him out of no where. They say he died from unspecified injuries from the impact, and they specified it as manslaughter. No one saw the accident take place, they just heard the commotion from it. Apparently, my dad had just thrown the guy out, because he got out of control. My guess is that maybe the guy got pissed and decided to retaliate by recking my dads car, but everyone else thinks it was just an accident. The guy that hit him was high on marijuana and was drunk. I guess that's where my role of not really drinking or doing drugs comes in. I mean don't get me wrong on an off day I'd love nothing more then to grab that huge blunt out of Mike or Billie's hand and get high too, but then the day of my dad's funeral flashes in my head and the guilt sets in.
It was really difficult to read between the lines when trying to piece information from mom and the articles. I still think a lot of information is being held back, hidden, and buried along with my dad.
Mom stared at my dad's grave with tears streaming down her cheek. Occasionally she would mumble to herself and she did the traditional putting flowers in the cup. It's kind of weird mom and I stand there in a tiny clump. She switches from looking down and up and cries. I am a bit melancholy being there, but I don't cry. My mom thinks there's something wrong with me there, she thinks I don't care, but it's not like that. I talk to my dad in my head sometimes. Do I think he he hears me? Not really, but I like to dangle the thought that he is listening to me. Maybe he talks to me too, I don't know. It's something the human ear isn't deceptive too.
I stood there and began chewing on the inside of my cheek and then moved onto my chapped lips. Then I remembered I had brought a book with me One Flew Over the Koo Koo's Nest. I began reading it when I didn't even get as far as the first paragraph when mom ripped it out my hands and threw it and gave me a look that showed she was hurting. I apologized, but the same expression was still plastered across her face. I don't mean to do those types of things, I just deal with grief in a different way, away that I don't express it.
Mom didn't talk to me the whole ride home, she still was upset about about the whole book thing. I didn't dare go and retrieve the book when we left either. When we got home I told her I was going to look for a job, when I was really going to Billie Joe's house.
Billie and Mike were always kind of quiet on the day of my dads death, as were Mike and I on the date of Billie's dads. I guess they think it makes me feel better, when really it just makes me feel more awkward. I told them to just act like it was any normal day.
"So how was life in the slammer?" asked Billie Joe not three seconds after I told them we could act like normal human beings.
I told them the whole story and Billie Joe teased me saying Nick asked them what happened, which kind of brought an inner smile on my face.
"Well I'm off to work," Mike said throwing on his coat.
"Wait, Mike," I began as I grabbed a piece of paper and began jotting down words "Give this to John," Mike gave me sort of a jumbled look. I handed him the note which read
Dear John,
I'm really sorry about what happened the other night at the restaurant, it was extremely childish and I give you assurance it will never happen again. If you could please give me my job back I will prove to you that I have changed my angered ways. I'm glad you helped stop the Vietnam War, which has inspired me to change.
Peace and Love,
Samantha Rollins
I contemplated on putting "P.S. Deadheads unite!" but figured that might be a little eccentric and possibly could be taken as an act of sarcasm.
Mike and Billie both quirked an eyebrow in response to the letter.
"I am glad you helped stop the Vietnam War, which has inspired me to change my angered ways?" Billie Joe mimicked.
"You don't actually think he's going to buy this do you?" Mike asked. I shrugged my shoulders and said it was worth a shot. Mike agreed to give him the note, but was still skeptical the outcome would be positive. Billie and I hung out where we exchanged musical advice in songwriting as we listened to Group Sex by Circle Jerks. Times like these bring me back to when Mike lived with his dad and it was mostly Billie Joe and I hanging out.
Billie was getting ready to go to his own work when he shared with me about this new waitress he had the "hots" for. Billie worked with his mom at a barbecue place.
Later Billie left and I went home. I came home to an empty house. I found a note on the counter that read
Samantha,
I have gone to Fresno for the week to visit with Aunt Kathy. I need to get away for a while. I should be back Wednesday.
Mom
P.S. You are to still go to therapy. I will know if you go or not.
Just like mom to bail when the times get tough. I debated the thought of ditching group time with Dorris when I figured I'm on thin ice anyway, and to just get it over with. Plus, it was Thursday. Dorris was closed on Fridays and then there was the weekend, so I wouldn't have to go back until Monday. Maybe Mike and Billie Joe could come over and we all could watch movies or something. Possibly John too if he's back in town. I would invite Sarah, but something tells me since the drug thing she isn't going to be able to hang out anytime soon. I would invite Ashley too, but erm her and Billie don't really see eye to eye.
I went in my room to watch this Thursdays new episode of Roseanne and maybe get more song writing in. The She He He's were trying to land an actual gig at Gilman, so we needed a complete set list of well completed songs.
During commercial breaks I would scribble something down. I started yet another song. I wasn't exactly feeling the completion of previous songs yet.
Breaking from the shell
Of my own rebel
I’ve already disengaged From my stolen page
Can you hear it the tone
Of my heart beating alone
In repeated disownment
My pride wakes in this moment
I don't know if it would get me anywhere, but it was something to mull over. I decided to sleep on it and see what tomorrows day was to bring to expect.
"Think of it this way Samantha he died in the line of duty," I remember her saying. I think thats where it contradicts the whole "acciedent" theory.
Don't get me wrong I have the utmost respect for my dad, but come on he was a security guard at a music club in San Francisco not a cop.
The other information I was granted with were from the obituary in the news paper, and we all know what the media does with everything.
Here is the information I was able to gather: My dad had just gotten off his shift at a little past 3 A.M. that morning. He was parked in the back where a car rammed into him out of no where. They say he died from unspecified injuries from the impact, and they specified it as manslaughter. No one saw the accident take place, they just heard the commotion from it. Apparently, my dad had just thrown the guy out, because he got out of control. My guess is that maybe the guy got pissed and decided to retaliate by recking my dads car, but everyone else thinks it was just an accident. The guy that hit him was high on marijuana and was drunk. I guess that's where my role of not really drinking or doing drugs comes in. I mean don't get me wrong on an off day I'd love nothing more then to grab that huge blunt out of Mike or Billie's hand and get high too, but then the day of my dad's funeral flashes in my head and the guilt sets in.
It was really difficult to read between the lines when trying to piece information from mom and the articles. I still think a lot of information is being held back, hidden, and buried along with my dad.
Mom stared at my dad's grave with tears streaming down her cheek. Occasionally she would mumble to herself and she did the traditional putting flowers in the cup. It's kind of weird mom and I stand there in a tiny clump. She switches from looking down and up and cries. I am a bit melancholy being there, but I don't cry. My mom thinks there's something wrong with me there, she thinks I don't care, but it's not like that. I talk to my dad in my head sometimes. Do I think he he hears me? Not really, but I like to dangle the thought that he is listening to me. Maybe he talks to me too, I don't know. It's something the human ear isn't deceptive too.
I stood there and began chewing on the inside of my cheek and then moved onto my chapped lips. Then I remembered I had brought a book with me One Flew Over the Koo Koo's Nest. I began reading it when I didn't even get as far as the first paragraph when mom ripped it out my hands and threw it and gave me a look that showed she was hurting. I apologized, but the same expression was still plastered across her face. I don't mean to do those types of things, I just deal with grief in a different way, away that I don't express it.
Mom didn't talk to me the whole ride home, she still was upset about about the whole book thing. I didn't dare go and retrieve the book when we left either. When we got home I told her I was going to look for a job, when I was really going to Billie Joe's house.
Billie and Mike were always kind of quiet on the day of my dads death, as were Mike and I on the date of Billie's dads. I guess they think it makes me feel better, when really it just makes me feel more awkward. I told them to just act like it was any normal day.
"So how was life in the slammer?" asked Billie Joe not three seconds after I told them we could act like normal human beings.
I told them the whole story and Billie Joe teased me saying Nick asked them what happened, which kind of brought an inner smile on my face.
"Well I'm off to work," Mike said throwing on his coat.
"Wait, Mike," I began as I grabbed a piece of paper and began jotting down words "Give this to John," Mike gave me sort of a jumbled look. I handed him the note which read
Dear John,
I'm really sorry about what happened the other night at the restaurant, it was extremely childish and I give you assurance it will never happen again. If you could please give me my job back I will prove to you that I have changed my angered ways. I'm glad you helped stop the Vietnam War, which has inspired me to change.
Peace and Love,
Samantha Rollins
I contemplated on putting "P.S. Deadheads unite!" but figured that might be a little eccentric and possibly could be taken as an act of sarcasm.
Mike and Billie both quirked an eyebrow in response to the letter.
"I am glad you helped stop the Vietnam War, which has inspired me to change my angered ways?" Billie Joe mimicked.
"You don't actually think he's going to buy this do you?" Mike asked. I shrugged my shoulders and said it was worth a shot. Mike agreed to give him the note, but was still skeptical the outcome would be positive. Billie and I hung out where we exchanged musical advice in songwriting as we listened to Group Sex by Circle Jerks. Times like these bring me back to when Mike lived with his dad and it was mostly Billie Joe and I hanging out.
Billie was getting ready to go to his own work when he shared with me about this new waitress he had the "hots" for. Billie worked with his mom at a barbecue place.
Later Billie left and I went home. I came home to an empty house. I found a note on the counter that read
Samantha,
I have gone to Fresno for the week to visit with Aunt Kathy. I need to get away for a while. I should be back Wednesday.
Mom
P.S. You are to still go to therapy. I will know if you go or not.
Just like mom to bail when the times get tough. I debated the thought of ditching group time with Dorris when I figured I'm on thin ice anyway, and to just get it over with. Plus, it was Thursday. Dorris was closed on Fridays and then there was the weekend, so I wouldn't have to go back until Monday. Maybe Mike and Billie Joe could come over and we all could watch movies or something. Possibly John too if he's back in town. I would invite Sarah, but something tells me since the drug thing she isn't going to be able to hang out anytime soon. I would invite Ashley too, but erm her and Billie don't really see eye to eye.
I went in my room to watch this Thursdays new episode of Roseanne and maybe get more song writing in. The She He He's were trying to land an actual gig at Gilman, so we needed a complete set list of well completed songs.
During commercial breaks I would scribble something down. I started yet another song. I wasn't exactly feeling the completion of previous songs yet.
Breaking from the shell
Of my own rebel
I’ve already disengaged From my stolen page
Can you hear it the tone
Of my heart beating alone
In repeated disownment
My pride wakes in this moment
I don't know if it would get me anywhere, but it was something to mull over. I decided to sleep on it and see what tomorrows day was to bring to expect.