Status: work in progress
I Don't Want to Live in the Modern World
1985
"So what is this place?" I asked Billie.
We were walking along the bridge and the graffiti seemed to grow more numerous as we went along.
"It doesn't have a name, but a lot of the people that have it rough at home come here to just relax and have fun and get high and shit. I'm here pretty often but I like coming here in the mornings when there's either no one here or a few people passed out. Some nights there are blow out parties and we start bonfires. My friend Mike likes to come to those, but other than that he doesn't really come here. But every once in a while this gang that thinks their all cool come here and ruin everyone's good time. Their the rich kids that have their whole entire life in front of them with nice cars and acceptances to really nice schools and jump at every chance to brag to us or beat us up for kicks!" Billie was unaware that he raised his voice to almost a shout.
A slightly awkward silence spread between us for a few seconds and then finally Billie spoke again, this time at a normal volume.
"Tell me about you now."
"I'm not that interesting."
"There must be something that's the least bit interesting about you. I mean you just woke up and you were here."
"So you believe me now? That I wasn't wasted?" I questioned him.
"Yeah you seem pretty believable. I don't know why though." He looked at me suspiciously. "Just tell me something that I would find questionable."
I racked my brain searching for something. But then I remembered.
"Tomorrow is my birthday. I'm turning 14."
"That's awesome. Another year closer to being 18, which means freedom from parents and seeing the real world." Billie said almost dream-like.
"Yeah." I said in agreement.
I always dreamed of leaving my house ever since my dad started drinking. Go somewhere and make music.
"Are things rough at your house?" Billie then asked me. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to."
"Sort of. It could be worse I guess. My dad started drinking a few months ago and he barely leaves his room. When he actually does come out, all he does is yell. And over the stupidest things. My mom is always mad at me and no one else. She gives my older sister everything she wants and I don't get anything. She even made my sister's graduation party on my birthday." With every word I felt more bitter. "What about you?"
"My dad died almost 3 years ago. He was an awesome dad. He did everything he could to make sure we were happy. Of course my mom was heartbroken. She married whatever guy that would have her and six kids. We needed the money. Now all she cares about is him. It's always about him all the time. But he doesn't appreciate her. He doesn't respect her at all and he doesn't give a shit about me or my brothers or sisters. If he found me dead in a ditch he probably would just leave me there. No exaggeration."
For a second I saw his eyes tear up but then they quickly dried up.
"All great people have a tragic story." I said and then snickered.
Then Billie snickered. "If you think 'inspiring' sayings are going to make me feel better, you are absolutely right."
I smiled at him. He smiled back. I stepped on a newspaper and glanced at the front page. The date said June 16th which was today. But the year said 1985. "Wow that newspaper is from 1985. Shouldn't it be all worn out instead of looking almost brand new?" I asked Billie.
'What do you mean? That's today's date. It's not old or anything."
"Yeah it is, it's 2013. Y'know, 28 years since 1985?"
"No this year is 1985." He said really slowly like I didn't understand. "I think you lied before. You are the most interesting person I have ever met."
We were walking along the bridge and the graffiti seemed to grow more numerous as we went along.
"It doesn't have a name, but a lot of the people that have it rough at home come here to just relax and have fun and get high and shit. I'm here pretty often but I like coming here in the mornings when there's either no one here or a few people passed out. Some nights there are blow out parties and we start bonfires. My friend Mike likes to come to those, but other than that he doesn't really come here. But every once in a while this gang that thinks their all cool come here and ruin everyone's good time. Their the rich kids that have their whole entire life in front of them with nice cars and acceptances to really nice schools and jump at every chance to brag to us or beat us up for kicks!" Billie was unaware that he raised his voice to almost a shout.
A slightly awkward silence spread between us for a few seconds and then finally Billie spoke again, this time at a normal volume.
"Tell me about you now."
"I'm not that interesting."
"There must be something that's the least bit interesting about you. I mean you just woke up and you were here."
"So you believe me now? That I wasn't wasted?" I questioned him.
"Yeah you seem pretty believable. I don't know why though." He looked at me suspiciously. "Just tell me something that I would find questionable."
I racked my brain searching for something. But then I remembered.
"Tomorrow is my birthday. I'm turning 14."
"That's awesome. Another year closer to being 18, which means freedom from parents and seeing the real world." Billie said almost dream-like.
"Yeah." I said in agreement.
I always dreamed of leaving my house ever since my dad started drinking. Go somewhere and make music.
"Are things rough at your house?" Billie then asked me. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to."
"Sort of. It could be worse I guess. My dad started drinking a few months ago and he barely leaves his room. When he actually does come out, all he does is yell. And over the stupidest things. My mom is always mad at me and no one else. She gives my older sister everything she wants and I don't get anything. She even made my sister's graduation party on my birthday." With every word I felt more bitter. "What about you?"
"My dad died almost 3 years ago. He was an awesome dad. He did everything he could to make sure we were happy. Of course my mom was heartbroken. She married whatever guy that would have her and six kids. We needed the money. Now all she cares about is him. It's always about him all the time. But he doesn't appreciate her. He doesn't respect her at all and he doesn't give a shit about me or my brothers or sisters. If he found me dead in a ditch he probably would just leave me there. No exaggeration."
For a second I saw his eyes tear up but then they quickly dried up.
"All great people have a tragic story." I said and then snickered.
Then Billie snickered. "If you think 'inspiring' sayings are going to make me feel better, you are absolutely right."
I smiled at him. He smiled back. I stepped on a newspaper and glanced at the front page. The date said June 16th which was today. But the year said 1985. "Wow that newspaper is from 1985. Shouldn't it be all worn out instead of looking almost brand new?" I asked Billie.
'What do you mean? That's today's date. It's not old or anything."
"Yeah it is, it's 2013. Y'know, 28 years since 1985?"
"No this year is 1985." He said really slowly like I didn't understand. "I think you lied before. You are the most interesting person I have ever met."