Spectacular Ever Afters
Bradley Blackstone
Everyone has something that makes them tick. Some people collect stamps, or they travel the world. Some people write stories, and some people design clothes. What is it that makes me tick?
Cars, trucks, buses, vans, etc. It ignites something inside of me that just turns everything that’s happened to me into a distant memory. When I’m underneath a car and I finally figure out what has been happening to it, I just feel so at peace. Doesn’t matter what happened to me the day before, or last week. In that simple moment, everything feels at ease.
I never had the easiest life growing up, I mean; who does? It’s reality and we all go through things. My father was in an out of my life growing up, he was there one day and then the next he wasn’t. Kind of like a magician showing off a magic trick, but it was much more than just a bunny inside of a hat.
My mother would bring over different men almost every single night, they never treated her the best. They we’re terrible to her, and treated her with so much disrespect that if I were able to go back in time I would have killed all of them. Unfortunately, when I was 15 years old I came home one morning after a night of drinking with my friends to find my mother lying on the couch without a pulse. I called for an ambulance but unfortunately it was much to late and she had been gone for more than I had ever realized.
The days following my mothers death were a blur, and it sent me into a rage that I never thought I could experience. I believed that life was already so bad before her death that nothing could ever top how I felt, this was it. This sent me wild and over the edge. My father was still out of my life, so I was sent to nearly ten different foster homes. All of which kicked me out onto the streets for bad behavior, and that’s when the drugs and the stealing came into play. At the age of 17 my father attempted to walk back into my life, and we fought and he walked away again. His last words to me will be words I will never forget, “you were never my son.” Days later I found out he was killed in a drive by shooting, and I was devastated.
He was an asshole to me growing up, but he was still my father and never deserved the death that he got. The one thing we shared in common was the love of vehicles. When I was a young boy we would spend hours underneath different vehicles and we wouldn’t come out until they were in tip top shape. It’s because of him my desire to own my own car repair shop will never die.
Right now, at this very point in my life I just can’t see it happening. I’m still way too deep into the drugs for anything to be right in my life. As positive as I’m trying to be about recovery I just can’t see myself actually going through with this ambition. “Are you going to just stand around or do you actually plan on getting to work sometime today?” I grunt as I hear my manager Pauline shout over at me from inside the gas station.
Yeah, I work as a gas station attendant. Not exactly where I planned on being but, it helps get me by and pays some what of the bills. Plus it’s all I am allowed to do until I finish working off this last few weeks of my probation.
“I don’t know, is it worth what you’re paying me?” I sass out to her, and she rolls her eyes and shuts the door. She’s used to my sass, but she can’t get rid of me anytime soon since the county jail is paying her an incentive to keep my lazy ass around here. After about a half-hour of standing around doing absoloutly nothing, a car finally pulls in to be filled with gas. I sigh gracefully and walk to the drivers side, the window rolls down and I feel sick to my stomach as I see who is seated in the front and passenger seat.
My ex girlfriend Kristy and her new boyfriend Markus, one of the reasons I sprialed out of control. I step back from the window and turn away before I let the anger take over and break her fancy new car windows.
“Oh grow up, you peice of shit.” She yells at me as I wave over a coworker to take over. Just the sight of the woman fills me with rage. Long story short, the man in the passenger seat is the man - or should I say, coward- who she cheated on me with, our entire five year relationship.
And about two years ago, I found out she has a three year old son. Who I’m not even sure is mine and she doesn’t even want to figure out who the father is, because she doesn’t want it to be me. So I don’t even know if I have a child or not, and if I do I doubt my abilities to even be a decent father. Since my own father was hardly around I always wanted to be able to try my best at being one myself, but at this point in my life and with the shit going on around me. I doubt it at this point.
“What’s up man, how come you wanted me to take over?” My coworker Markus asks me after he finishes pumping up my exes car with gas. I give him a scowl and turn away and head to the break pit for a smoke.
“Her again? She’s been here like six times this week.” He says, taking in my uncomfortable posture realizing why I made him take over.
“Mhmmm…she just wants to rub it all in.” I say, taking a drag from my cigarette and blowing a puff of smoke into the air. And as I’m watching it circle around the clouds, my ears begin to get a sharp buzzing noise inside of them. I hear a range of voices beginning to get louder and louder.
“You alright man?” I hear Markus ask me from what sounds like miles away. I stand up and glance at him, shaking my head clear.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m taking off for the rest of the day, if Pauline gets mad then tell her to kiss my ass.” I toss my half smoked cigertte on the ground and stomp on it, then walk across the lot to my car. This is a daily thing, I come to work for a few hours, get pissed off at something and then take off for the day. She can’t get rid of me, so I can get away with it.
I reach into the glove box of my car and pull out my flask of straight whiskey and bring the bottle up to my lips, I chug it straight down my throat and it burns but I enjoy the sensation it provides me. A slight fuzzy sensation takes over me as I rip out of the parking lot and down the highway to my apartment. I can already feel the buzz beginning to kick in, and it feels amazing. I begin speeding down the highway forcefully, the cool air from the windows being down makes me feel free as a bird flying through the sky.
As I am driving, those voices from earlier begin to hit me all at once again. It overwhelms me more than anything ever than before. A loud siren suddenly goes off behind me and I can see those familar red and blue lights flashing in the distance.
“Shit!” I say, speeding faster hoping to get away from them. I still have another five months of my probation left, and I can’t get anything more added to it.
‘BRADLEY STOP!’ I hear a voice in the back of my mind scream. And as that happens I crash hard into a pole.
“Shiiiiiiit.” I say again, hearing the sirens get closer and surround me. My heart jumps in my chest as the door slams shut and the angry stomps of an officer arrive at my door.
“Get out.” The officer demands after seeing that it’s me once again.
“Long time no see.” I try to joke my way out, and the officer seems extreamly unamused.
Cars, trucks, buses, vans, etc. It ignites something inside of me that just turns everything that’s happened to me into a distant memory. When I’m underneath a car and I finally figure out what has been happening to it, I just feel so at peace. Doesn’t matter what happened to me the day before, or last week. In that simple moment, everything feels at ease.
I never had the easiest life growing up, I mean; who does? It’s reality and we all go through things. My father was in an out of my life growing up, he was there one day and then the next he wasn’t. Kind of like a magician showing off a magic trick, but it was much more than just a bunny inside of a hat.
My mother would bring over different men almost every single night, they never treated her the best. They we’re terrible to her, and treated her with so much disrespect that if I were able to go back in time I would have killed all of them. Unfortunately, when I was 15 years old I came home one morning after a night of drinking with my friends to find my mother lying on the couch without a pulse. I called for an ambulance but unfortunately it was much to late and she had been gone for more than I had ever realized.
The days following my mothers death were a blur, and it sent me into a rage that I never thought I could experience. I believed that life was already so bad before her death that nothing could ever top how I felt, this was it. This sent me wild and over the edge. My father was still out of my life, so I was sent to nearly ten different foster homes. All of which kicked me out onto the streets for bad behavior, and that’s when the drugs and the stealing came into play. At the age of 17 my father attempted to walk back into my life, and we fought and he walked away again. His last words to me will be words I will never forget, “you were never my son.” Days later I found out he was killed in a drive by shooting, and I was devastated.
He was an asshole to me growing up, but he was still my father and never deserved the death that he got. The one thing we shared in common was the love of vehicles. When I was a young boy we would spend hours underneath different vehicles and we wouldn’t come out until they were in tip top shape. It’s because of him my desire to own my own car repair shop will never die.
Right now, at this very point in my life I just can’t see it happening. I’m still way too deep into the drugs for anything to be right in my life. As positive as I’m trying to be about recovery I just can’t see myself actually going through with this ambition. “Are you going to just stand around or do you actually plan on getting to work sometime today?” I grunt as I hear my manager Pauline shout over at me from inside the gas station.
Yeah, I work as a gas station attendant. Not exactly where I planned on being but, it helps get me by and pays some what of the bills. Plus it’s all I am allowed to do until I finish working off this last few weeks of my probation.
“I don’t know, is it worth what you’re paying me?” I sass out to her, and she rolls her eyes and shuts the door. She’s used to my sass, but she can’t get rid of me anytime soon since the county jail is paying her an incentive to keep my lazy ass around here. After about a half-hour of standing around doing absoloutly nothing, a car finally pulls in to be filled with gas. I sigh gracefully and walk to the drivers side, the window rolls down and I feel sick to my stomach as I see who is seated in the front and passenger seat.
My ex girlfriend Kristy and her new boyfriend Markus, one of the reasons I sprialed out of control. I step back from the window and turn away before I let the anger take over and break her fancy new car windows.
“Oh grow up, you peice of shit.” She yells at me as I wave over a coworker to take over. Just the sight of the woman fills me with rage. Long story short, the man in the passenger seat is the man - or should I say, coward- who she cheated on me with, our entire five year relationship.
And about two years ago, I found out she has a three year old son. Who I’m not even sure is mine and she doesn’t even want to figure out who the father is, because she doesn’t want it to be me. So I don’t even know if I have a child or not, and if I do I doubt my abilities to even be a decent father. Since my own father was hardly around I always wanted to be able to try my best at being one myself, but at this point in my life and with the shit going on around me. I doubt it at this point.
“What’s up man, how come you wanted me to take over?” My coworker Markus asks me after he finishes pumping up my exes car with gas. I give him a scowl and turn away and head to the break pit for a smoke.
“Her again? She’s been here like six times this week.” He says, taking in my uncomfortable posture realizing why I made him take over.
“Mhmmm…she just wants to rub it all in.” I say, taking a drag from my cigarette and blowing a puff of smoke into the air. And as I’m watching it circle around the clouds, my ears begin to get a sharp buzzing noise inside of them. I hear a range of voices beginning to get louder and louder.
“You alright man?” I hear Markus ask me from what sounds like miles away. I stand up and glance at him, shaking my head clear.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m taking off for the rest of the day, if Pauline gets mad then tell her to kiss my ass.” I toss my half smoked cigertte on the ground and stomp on it, then walk across the lot to my car. This is a daily thing, I come to work for a few hours, get pissed off at something and then take off for the day. She can’t get rid of me, so I can get away with it.
I reach into the glove box of my car and pull out my flask of straight whiskey and bring the bottle up to my lips, I chug it straight down my throat and it burns but I enjoy the sensation it provides me. A slight fuzzy sensation takes over me as I rip out of the parking lot and down the highway to my apartment. I can already feel the buzz beginning to kick in, and it feels amazing. I begin speeding down the highway forcefully, the cool air from the windows being down makes me feel free as a bird flying through the sky.
As I am driving, those voices from earlier begin to hit me all at once again. It overwhelms me more than anything ever than before. A loud siren suddenly goes off behind me and I can see those familar red and blue lights flashing in the distance.
“Shit!” I say, speeding faster hoping to get away from them. I still have another five months of my probation left, and I can’t get anything more added to it.
‘BRADLEY STOP!’ I hear a voice in the back of my mind scream. And as that happens I crash hard into a pole.
“Shiiiiiiit.” I say again, hearing the sirens get closer and surround me. My heart jumps in my chest as the door slams shut and the angry stomps of an officer arrive at my door.
“Get out.” The officer demands after seeing that it’s me once again.
“Long time no see.” I try to joke my way out, and the officer seems extreamly unamused.