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Story time (you make this s**t up)
So it was what it was. I was lying on my belly half naked in the bed of some guy I met about 7 hours before. Who does this, how did I get here? What’s this guys name? I just kept repeating in the back of my head.
I remember looking up at the clock, blinking reds hurt my eyes after a long enough night. It was blinking 4:00am, more then likely it was wrong and I didn’t care. All I knew was I needed to get back from where I came from. Wait, where did I start?
I just wanted to remember.
On my back now smoking a cigarette just starring at the ceiling trying to get lost, trying to not think about the man staring right at me. Trying to think, how did this get started?
The City was Grand Rapids. I knew this; the time was way too early in the morning. I don’t think I slept, maybe I did? That didn’t matter, I just need to collect my things and get right out of that house.
I looked at the boy, right in the eyes. He had bright blue eyes, I could see why I ended where I ended. I asked him where the bathroom was. As I got up I saw my pants and shirt lying on the ground right at the end of the bed. As I picked them up and put them on and my stomach started to turn. The boy looked at me and asked what was the matter. I looked at him and my face started to get tight. “I think I’m going to get sick” I sprinted to the bathroom, the boy followed. I slammed the door in his face. He must have heard the vomit from my mouth hit the water, because he asked if I needed anything in between it. I only asked for a glass of water. I just wanted to get out of that damn house.
Once I had myself as clean as I could get, I walked out of the bathroom. I started apologizing to the blue-eyed boy. I don’t think he cared that much. He handed me a bottled water. I grabbed my backpack and started walking toward the door. The boy was still in boxers didn’t seem to know what to make of me. Just strange looks. I said, “I’m sorry” and walked out the door Outside, I noticed the sun was coming up.
I knew where I was, and I know I had a long walk ahead of me. Slowly but surely, I started remembering the walk back with the boy. The feeling of being loved. Wondering if I’d ever get anything like that again. Knowing myself, I was sure I would.
I recognized a white house, an old friends house. I wasn’t even sure if the person still lived there, but I walked up and knocked anyways. Timothy Richards. As soon as he opened the door he started laughing, “I knew I was going to see you this morning.”
I could tell he also had a long night. He invited me in for coffee with him and his girlfriend Lisa. Walking in a home is different then walking into a house. When you walk into a house, you don’t have to take off your shoes and some people never even take off their jacket. This, on the other hand, was a home-plus bikes. Although there was a bike in the living room, you knew you still had to take off you shoes. I didn’t have a problem with. This I actually prefer homes to houses. Lisa knew how to keep people in line; it was a nice place to be.
After telling Timothy and Lisa most of what I remember. Two cups of coffee and a little inspiration from both of them, I went on my way to figure out what really happened last night. I started to remember little clues from the night before, faces the color of cups, the size of fires. I checked out my phone, to see the last phone call’s. It looks like I made about 3 calls the night before. One to Josh Crocker, one to Daniel, and one to a number I didn’t recognize 616-552-8858, and who ever that was, was the winner of the first phone call of the day.
I wasn’t nervous until the phone started ringing. Turns out it was just an old friend that lived not too far away. So I walked to Mike’s house, the random number now had a name. So I was now one step closer to finding out what I really had done.
Once there he asked if I wanted to have a picnic. So now heading down town toward all the old fashioned remolded houses, the huge churches, all of the cars on the street just waiting getting hotter and hotter in the insides of them, people walking around with nothing but Ipod head phones in there ears not caring about anything but them self’s. I don’t care about them anyways. Trying to remember if I was down there at all the night before.
And just like a sign from God, Five Lyon. But any God interested in me is one messed up God, I say this only because I remember trashing this little apartment, taking one side of a old futon bed and tossing it out the balcony. As soon as I saw half of the crap on the street. I started laughing. More and more random images starting running threw my head. I started telling Mike about it.
“Well, damn, turns out you did have a good time after all.” He said. I started rambling. “We have to go up there, I have to talk to whosever’s place this is and ask them everything, like, who I was with?”
Once up there I knew where almost everything was, it was strange to think I took part in a complete riot. A girl answered the door. Let’s just say she looked like she was in misery. I concentrated on the things behind her. It looked like everything was shook off the walls; you could see where the pictures used to be in the hallway, but they were lying on the ground, all of the glass shattered. It looked like a hammer had blasted into each of them. I remember walking down the hall. I could almost hear the sounds of a hammer hitting each of the pictures. The worst part was that I did not remember the girl.
I look at the woman “is there anything we could do, we can help you clean this madness up?” For the first time I took a look right into her eyes. Her eyes where throbbing red, as she look up, her eyes just had a shine, the tear started swelling up and almost poured out. This woman had her home destroyed. She had no idea I took a part in this.
The woman looked at me. “I would like that very much.” Her eyes were those of a lost ten year old in a carnival.
I asked her name, Her name was Janet.
As I started to walk through Janet’s home, I started remember all the people, the coffee mugs that the kids were holding. I started to remember placement of people standing. Walking in to the kitchen where I people were pouring shot after shot of whiskey. I wanted to start vomiting. This girl had no idea. I started to ask what happened.
She backed up against the wall and fell straight down to her keens. These tears were not fake, these tears had more sadness, more anger, more hatred I have ever heard in my life. “Two days” she said in a small voice, “two Goodman days” she started to shout. Her tears got heaver. She started to explain, “I moved in a week ago. I went home for 2 days, I haven’t met anyone in this damn building.” She couldn’t look at Mike or I in the eyes. At first I felt terrible. Then after a while I felt like her saint, the person helping this girl out, I one person that stopped and noticed I just made this girl day a little bit brighter. made this girls nightmare come true, and I’m here to save the day.
Nothing mattered at all other then what this girl thought. She thought I was her bright and shining star. Mike had to go to work. I walked him to work, I told him what I was doing. His reply was “You’re one sick person, you know that?” By this time I didn’t care I smiled and kept walking back to Janet’s place. Once there we picked up most everything, as I was putting all of her belongs in to trash bags, I remember more and more of the night before, I remember people telling me what they we’re doing, I remember a small boy running up to me yelling “we found a place, its cool. “ following people up into the apartment. By then I didn’t care. This girl thought the world of me.
I win.