Status: INACTIVE UNTIL STATED OTHERWISE
Night Owls
01| James
It was thirty-three degrees outside and the only thing that rested in my coat pocket was a box of empty cigarettes. I thought I had more, in my coat pocket or in my sock. I thought wrong. I parted my lips and exhaled, watching my breath as it morphed into a misty ring that hung in the air. I remembered what my pa said to me, before he disappeared. “Boy,” I remembered him telling me. “You might as well be menthol in the flesh.”
To make matters worse for my want of nicotine, it was three forty-five in the morning. I didn’t know any gas stations that would be open at pass midnight, not around here at least. “James.” I turned around at the sound of my mother’s voice. “James, it’s early. You should be in bed.” She was shivering, I could see, underneath the lilac robe she clung to her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, and it was partially true. She didn’t look convinced, but I knew that she should be the one in bed because there were dark circles underneath her eyes. “Go back to bed, Ma. I’ll be up soon.”
She sighed and placed her hand on the doorknob, turning it slightly. “I’m going to take you for your word. Good night, James. Don’t be out too late.” I nodded, and she pushed the door open, letting herself inside. Despite what I told her, I didn’t plan going inside any time soon.
What was the point of going back inside if I was just going to roll around in my bed, restlessly staring at blank walls? It was too quiet in the house, too familiar. There were too many memories in there. On the other hand, I’d really like that cigarette. I checked my pockets a second time, then a third, then a fourth. It was evident that I wasn't going to unearth anymore.
I sighed and stared blankly ahead. It was dark; there wasn’t much that was visible, except for the dim street lights. I thought of disappearing, like my pa did, but Ma would be distraught. I didn’t like being home anymore. The only thing I actually enjoyed of the place was pancakes in the morning, free hot water, and my bed.
I turned around and turned the doorknob, jostling the door open. Immediately, I was engulfed with the warmth of the house. I closed the door, making sure to lock it, and made my way up the stairs. In the bathroom across from my bedroom, I looked through the medicine cabinet. There was no possible way that I’d sleep without the help of medicine.
I found a vial of Tylenol and opened it, shaking three of the tablets into my palm. I twisted the cold water on and tilted my head to the side, filling my mouth just enough to swallow the three white tablets. I always hated pills, with their insipid taste and all, but it was all I had at the moment. After I turned the water off and swallowed the linctus, I crossed the hall to my room.
The radio was on, playing music faintly. It wasn’t music I liked. In fact, it was music that I hated, the music that was played over and over again until their creators hated it, too. So, when I turned it off, I was happy, besides the fact that I was fighting the desire to burn my radio.
I discarded my outerwear, leaving my white socks and boxers clinging to my body. Underneath the covers of my bed was cold and empty. It was as if I was suffocating in the surplus of a bed too big for my own good.
To make matters worse for my want of nicotine, it was three forty-five in the morning. I didn’t know any gas stations that would be open at pass midnight, not around here at least. “James.” I turned around at the sound of my mother’s voice. “James, it’s early. You should be in bed.” She was shivering, I could see, underneath the lilac robe she clung to her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, and it was partially true. She didn’t look convinced, but I knew that she should be the one in bed because there were dark circles underneath her eyes. “Go back to bed, Ma. I’ll be up soon.”
She sighed and placed her hand on the doorknob, turning it slightly. “I’m going to take you for your word. Good night, James. Don’t be out too late.” I nodded, and she pushed the door open, letting herself inside. Despite what I told her, I didn’t plan going inside any time soon.
What was the point of going back inside if I was just going to roll around in my bed, restlessly staring at blank walls? It was too quiet in the house, too familiar. There were too many memories in there. On the other hand, I’d really like that cigarette. I checked my pockets a second time, then a third, then a fourth. It was evident that I wasn't going to unearth anymore.
I sighed and stared blankly ahead. It was dark; there wasn’t much that was visible, except for the dim street lights. I thought of disappearing, like my pa did, but Ma would be distraught. I didn’t like being home anymore. The only thing I actually enjoyed of the place was pancakes in the morning, free hot water, and my bed.
I turned around and turned the doorknob, jostling the door open. Immediately, I was engulfed with the warmth of the house. I closed the door, making sure to lock it, and made my way up the stairs. In the bathroom across from my bedroom, I looked through the medicine cabinet. There was no possible way that I’d sleep without the help of medicine.
I found a vial of Tylenol and opened it, shaking three of the tablets into my palm. I twisted the cold water on and tilted my head to the side, filling my mouth just enough to swallow the three white tablets. I always hated pills, with their insipid taste and all, but it was all I had at the moment. After I turned the water off and swallowed the linctus, I crossed the hall to my room.
The radio was on, playing music faintly. It wasn’t music I liked. In fact, it was music that I hated, the music that was played over and over again until their creators hated it, too. So, when I turned it off, I was happy, besides the fact that I was fighting the desire to burn my radio.
I discarded my outerwear, leaving my white socks and boxers clinging to my body. Underneath the covers of my bed was cold and empty. It was as if I was suffocating in the surplus of a bed too big for my own good.