Jaded
Repeated Story
I did as I was told and left. What other choice did I have?
The bay area breeze was at its best numbing my face the second I walked out. I feel pretty damn pathetic for what happened. I mean they say everything happens for a reason, but I'm still trying to connect the dots of what good could come out of my father dying. All I really got out of it was a depressed fucked up mother working from pay check to pay check. After my dad died I became really stubborn and had all this anger bottled up inside. Especially that day when I came home and my mom said my dad had died.
"Samantha let's just move on from this and pretend it never happened,"
I remember looking at her with "What the fuck?" kind of expression. I mean let's not beat around the bush I'm not one that expresses much emotion. I usually cover my feelings up with this big tough attitude. I was only a few weeks shy of my fourteenth birthday and labor day had just passed. I remember standing there waiting for her to yell "Gotcha!" and my dad jump out from behind the couch or something. Of course that never happened.
"What do you mean Dad's dead? I mean-"
"Samantha just let it go and forget about it! I'm trying to cope with it so your just going to have to deal with it yourself!" then she left in sobs. After that the mother daughter relationship went out the door and still has never come back...I think that was the one moment in my life where I felt most vulnerable.
It's times like those I question if the theory of there being a god is all just propaganda so people won't kill each other and will have something to do Sunday mornings. I'm not much into religion, I mean I have my few beliefs and that's it. Tell you the truth I think 98% of the bible is bullshit.
Being clouded with all these pessimistic thoughts and reminiscing I was at the BART station. I reached in my coat pocket to retrieve my ticket home, when it wasn't there. Dammit, I must have left it at the diner. I really didn't have the guts to go back and face John and humiliate myself even more. I decided to scrounge up enough money, or at least attempt to. I did it in the basic order of searching through my pants and jacket pockets, then searched around the BART station.
By the end of my exploration for money I came to a total of $3.47 and a gum wrapper.
I sat there for a minute contemplating on what to do when I came up the genius idea of breaking into a tampon machine in the women's bathroom. It takes a great struggle to go the bathroom at the BART station. I seriously think there are dead bodies under the flooring in there by the aroma that hits you the instant you knudge that door.
Apparently someone had beat me to it, because the machine was open. Cheap bastards took the tampons too. Then again I am also trying to steal from a damn tampon machine...
I really had no other choice then to jump the turn stop. Luckily for me the guards were more interested in the Oakland Raiders sports highlight to where I was successful.
I took the ten minute ride and got off at my stop. I really didn't feel like going home now. Mom and I had a huge fight before work and when the time came of her finding out about being fired hell would in fact break loose.
I decided to go over to Billie's house and wait for Mike to get back from work, which should be soon. Oh, and hang out with Billie.
You see Billie Joe and I have an odd friendship. We're those type of best friends that rag and bicker with each other all the time where if you were observing us you would question if we were really friends. Billie always ridicules me on my height, being skinny, my predicaments that usually end in mischief, my "Spider-Man fingers" as he calls them, and just basically anything. Deep down though we really do care for each other. Anytime things get really bad we help pick each other back up. He was seriously my savior when my Dad died, although I could never let him know that. His Dad died as well when he was ten, so he could relate. Then we were both there for Mike when his dad died earlier this year.
I took the five minutes out of my way to get to his house. Mike usually left the window unlocked so I could climb through it to hang out when it was needed in the odd hours of the night, or just so I could have the satisfaction of feeling like a secret agent.
"Spider-Man Spider-Man does whatever a spider can-"
"Fuck you Billie,"
"Whoa what's wrong with you?"
"Meh..." I didn't really want to tell Billie I got fired, because well it would open a whole new can of worms of mocking me.
"If I tell you no wise cracks okay?"
"Eh I'll try my best to re-frame."
"I got canned."
"You mean you finally got laid?"
"No you dumb ass canned! fired! Whatever the fuck you want to call it!" That was another thing Billie always teased me for was being a virgin still. Seriously I would wake up sometimes and have "V for Virgin" written on my arm in permanent marker. I'll get back to that later though.
"Oh...I'm sorry." he said. I could tell he was holding back some type of antic.
"Yeah well whatever. What's up with you?"
"Waiting for Mike to get home so we can jam a bit. He should be home any minute now."
Right after he said that a pair of headlights flashed in the window, which meant Mike was home.
Now Mike and I met in a weird way. It was in kindergarden both of our parents paid us five bucks to dress nice for pictures. At that time five bucks was as great as finding out that one of us was secretly related to Dee Dee from the Ramones. Anyway he was wearing this ridiculous mickey mouse sweater and I had on this revolting flower dress and my hair in pig tails. That day he punched our teacher, I thought that was pretty hilarious. It turned out that we were always next to each other in line when we left the classroom, since my last name started with an "R" and his started with a 'P". One day I went up to him and said
"Hi my name is Sam. Want to be my friend?"
He kind of looked at me and walked away. Later that day on our way to lunch he asked if I wanted half of his peanut butter sandwich for my ham sandwich. After that we kind of hit it off and years later I met Billie. Really all through Elementary school and Middle school they were my only friends. In high school I made a few more, but I've never been one to make a massive amount of friends. It takes a lot for me to consider you a friend.
Mike came in replenishing the nasty smell of grease and processed meat that makes me glad to be a vegetarian when Billie cracked out
"Guess who's going back to using a hockey stick and a Christmas tree stand as a mic stand?"
The bay area breeze was at its best numbing my face the second I walked out. I feel pretty damn pathetic for what happened. I mean they say everything happens for a reason, but I'm still trying to connect the dots of what good could come out of my father dying. All I really got out of it was a depressed fucked up mother working from pay check to pay check. After my dad died I became really stubborn and had all this anger bottled up inside. Especially that day when I came home and my mom said my dad had died.
"Samantha let's just move on from this and pretend it never happened,"
I remember looking at her with "What the fuck?" kind of expression. I mean let's not beat around the bush I'm not one that expresses much emotion. I usually cover my feelings up with this big tough attitude. I was only a few weeks shy of my fourteenth birthday and labor day had just passed. I remember standing there waiting for her to yell "Gotcha!" and my dad jump out from behind the couch or something. Of course that never happened.
"What do you mean Dad's dead? I mean-"
"Samantha just let it go and forget about it! I'm trying to cope with it so your just going to have to deal with it yourself!" then she left in sobs. After that the mother daughter relationship went out the door and still has never come back...I think that was the one moment in my life where I felt most vulnerable.
It's times like those I question if the theory of there being a god is all just propaganda so people won't kill each other and will have something to do Sunday mornings. I'm not much into religion, I mean I have my few beliefs and that's it. Tell you the truth I think 98% of the bible is bullshit.
Being clouded with all these pessimistic thoughts and reminiscing I was at the BART station. I reached in my coat pocket to retrieve my ticket home, when it wasn't there. Dammit, I must have left it at the diner. I really didn't have the guts to go back and face John and humiliate myself even more. I decided to scrounge up enough money, or at least attempt to. I did it in the basic order of searching through my pants and jacket pockets, then searched around the BART station.
By the end of my exploration for money I came to a total of $3.47 and a gum wrapper.
I sat there for a minute contemplating on what to do when I came up the genius idea of breaking into a tampon machine in the women's bathroom. It takes a great struggle to go the bathroom at the BART station. I seriously think there are dead bodies under the flooring in there by the aroma that hits you the instant you knudge that door.
Apparently someone had beat me to it, because the machine was open. Cheap bastards took the tampons too. Then again I am also trying to steal from a damn tampon machine...
I really had no other choice then to jump the turn stop. Luckily for me the guards were more interested in the Oakland Raiders sports highlight to where I was successful.
I took the ten minute ride and got off at my stop. I really didn't feel like going home now. Mom and I had a huge fight before work and when the time came of her finding out about being fired hell would in fact break loose.
I decided to go over to Billie's house and wait for Mike to get back from work, which should be soon. Oh, and hang out with Billie.
You see Billie Joe and I have an odd friendship. We're those type of best friends that rag and bicker with each other all the time where if you were observing us you would question if we were really friends. Billie always ridicules me on my height, being skinny, my predicaments that usually end in mischief, my "Spider-Man fingers" as he calls them, and just basically anything. Deep down though we really do care for each other. Anytime things get really bad we help pick each other back up. He was seriously my savior when my Dad died, although I could never let him know that. His Dad died as well when he was ten, so he could relate. Then we were both there for Mike when his dad died earlier this year.
I took the five minutes out of my way to get to his house. Mike usually left the window unlocked so I could climb through it to hang out when it was needed in the odd hours of the night, or just so I could have the satisfaction of feeling like a secret agent.
"Spider-Man Spider-Man does whatever a spider can-"
"Fuck you Billie,"
"Whoa what's wrong with you?"
"Meh..." I didn't really want to tell Billie I got fired, because well it would open a whole new can of worms of mocking me.
"If I tell you no wise cracks okay?"
"Eh I'll try my best to re-frame."
"I got canned."
"You mean you finally got laid?"
"No you dumb ass canned! fired! Whatever the fuck you want to call it!" That was another thing Billie always teased me for was being a virgin still. Seriously I would wake up sometimes and have "V for Virgin" written on my arm in permanent marker. I'll get back to that later though.
"Oh...I'm sorry." he said. I could tell he was holding back some type of antic.
"Yeah well whatever. What's up with you?"
"Waiting for Mike to get home so we can jam a bit. He should be home any minute now."
Right after he said that a pair of headlights flashed in the window, which meant Mike was home.
Now Mike and I met in a weird way. It was in kindergarden both of our parents paid us five bucks to dress nice for pictures. At that time five bucks was as great as finding out that one of us was secretly related to Dee Dee from the Ramones. Anyway he was wearing this ridiculous mickey mouse sweater and I had on this revolting flower dress and my hair in pig tails. That day he punched our teacher, I thought that was pretty hilarious. It turned out that we were always next to each other in line when we left the classroom, since my last name started with an "R" and his started with a 'P". One day I went up to him and said
"Hi my name is Sam. Want to be my friend?"
He kind of looked at me and walked away. Later that day on our way to lunch he asked if I wanted half of his peanut butter sandwich for my ham sandwich. After that we kind of hit it off and years later I met Billie. Really all through Elementary school and Middle school they were my only friends. In high school I made a few more, but I've never been one to make a massive amount of friends. It takes a lot for me to consider you a friend.
Mike came in replenishing the nasty smell of grease and processed meat that makes me glad to be a vegetarian when Billie cracked out
"Guess who's going back to using a hockey stick and a Christmas tree stand as a mic stand?"