Get Me Out of My Mind

There’s a heartbeat of uncomfortable silence. A quick, flick roll of my eyes set them off once again. This time my mother was in a furry. She bickers and my father makes this highly amusing grunt from his throat. “Now, Ryan, can you tell me your new excuse for your third black eye this year?” She asks, my father sipping on his coffee, blowing then sipping.
An excuse? I hardly had the time to think of one. Even if I did tell her the truth, she’d think I’m lying.
“I was walking to my 6th period class when a spaceship stopped and hovered over my head, a beam of light brought me to it, and I was surrounded by bug-eyed creatures that repeatedly hit me in the eye with their fists.” I joked. Having literally come up with that off the top of my head, I highly amused myself. My mother’s jaw drop, she was not amused. I heard a coughing sound coming from my father. Without turning my head, I peeked through the corner of my eyes to see him with his coffee in his hand. He swallowed, and a slick smile was being forced back.

“Ryan- just tell your mother,” my father spoken at last.
“Okay,” I began, I took in a long breath of air, “I got punched for no reason by some jock, is that more exciting?”
“There had to be a reason.”
“There’s not. Maybe one in his mind but no other person on this planet could guess why.” I shrugged.
“What’s this boy’s name?”
“Travis Hall.” I said, not even thinking twice.
“The same boy as last time…” She sighed, “and you can’t think of one reason?”
“Nope.” I made a popping sound on the ‘p’.

About an hour later, the argument was still going on. I asked to go to a new school. A public school and get out of a Catholic school to start anew, but they did not like the idea and gave me a hard time about it. I left the house to get some air after that argument, my guitar in its case on my back. The air was unexplainably sweet and fresh. It was the beginning of spring and everything was new. New grass, flowers, leaves. It was a sort of odd comfort I got from this. I decided on walking to the park, at least there I could play my guitar in peace.
There were kids running around, playing freeze tag and drawing with chalk. It reminded me of summer. I couldn’t wait for it. I would ride my bike, read on the porch swing, and go to music festivals. It was right around the corner now.

When I got to the park, I picked the usual bench under the big weeping willow trees, I loved the way it smelled when it caught a breeze. This park reminds me of when I was little. I used to have a friend that I always played with here. He was really the only friend I ever had. It was nice, remembering that. I thought about him a lot actually, and where he is today. Maybe one day fate will bring us back together. His name was Brendon something- I couldn’t remember his last name and that killed me. I took off my hat in case anyone liked my music, and decided on throwing some money down. Maybe I’ll make five bucks and can get something to eat on the way back. I forgot my wallet with the little money I did have in it. I mentally slapped myself; I have to take better care of my things.
I set up, put the capo in the forth fret to make a softer sound. I started out with a E minor chord and went from there, singing one of the songs I made up a week ago. My newest and best thing I’ve ever done. It was different from what I usually do. After two songs, I had three dollar bills and some change. Either I’m starting to sound better or people are losing taste. I laughed at myself.
I was preparing myself for the next song. I moved the capo and got my fingers formed just right when a shadow casted over me. I looked up to a deep navy blue uniform. A cop was standing in front of me, giving me a look of annoyance.

“Excuse me, but you’re disturbing the peace.” His voice deep and crackling.
“I’m just playing my guitar, sir. I’m not bothering anyone…” I began. “Actually, I think that people enjoy it. Everyone I’ve seen has smiled and tossed me some change,” I smiled, quite proud of myself.
“That’s not how I see it. Put away your guitar or I’ll do it for you.” And I knew I shouldn’t have, but I’m not sure what exactly I was thinking, but I was rude back.
“No, I’m not bothering anyone.” I regretted it the moment after I said it, but the damage was done. He reached down, and pulled away my guitar in one swift moment. I hung on, not willing to just give it up like that. It was one of the only things keeping my sanity. He then proceeded to yank me with it. He fidgeted to get it off me, shoving my arms behind my back in the process, with adrenalin pumping through my body I pulled back my guitar. He lost his grip on me and fell to the ground, hard. My head was racing. My heart pumped blood quicker than usual. For a second, I questioned if I was even awake or alive. The police officer bawled in pain, shrieking in pain. A bit mellow dramatic in my opinion.

After that, my emotions were blacked out and I hardly remember much. I remember the important stuff, a cop shoving my against the same Willow tree that I sat under, forcing hand cuffs around my wrists. I had a panic attack then, a nervous breakdown. My body was sent into convolutions. My brain shut down and I didn’t focus on all the people around me at the moment. I felt shameless. But I was sure to feel awfully embarrassed by it later, but that was the last of my worries. I was taken to a police station, where they put me in a holding cell. All I wanted to do was go home. My eyes were sore from crying.