The One Shot
He shook his head while she talked, but more than saying “no” he was really just trying really hard to ignore the words that were coming out of her mouth.
“You deserve better, you deserve good. This shit is not for you. I mean, listen to them, they’re like animals, they’re like beasts, tearing each other apart and dragging you with them into their deep black hole of vices, hurting, and screaming. You are not your father, you are not your mother, you are not your brother, and you are stupid to think you’re gonna save their souls or some dumb idea like that. Face it; you’re on your own here. But you can make it on your own. You have to understand—“, but as she was saying this, he interrupted with a high-toned voice, but also trying to keep it down so that his conversation would not trespass the wooden door that separated them from whoever was passing by on the other side.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s not that simple—“.
“Then explain it to me! Explain it to me God damn it!! Explain to me why you’re one of the brightest most intelligent persons in the world and yet you are not able to acknowledge and face all the shit that’s going on right under your nose!”.
“Shut up ok! Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t see all of this shit that’s surrounding me and has been surrounding me ever since I had a conscience? I know, ok? I know!”.
“Well if you do then why don’t you do something about it? Why don’t you just accept you are powerless? You can’t make people change just like that. You can’t expect a person to turn his life 180 degrees from one day to the next. Please! Please understand this! You have to learn to let go. You have to move on and live your own life. You have to make your own decisions as hard as they may be. There is no easy path through life. We all go through tough shit, some tougher than others, but either way tough…”, she took his hands as these words left her mouth. His hands were cold, hers were warm. His hands were big and rough, and hers were gentle and soft. She rubbed them with her thumbs and looked straight into his eyes; a tender look, the kind of intense, intimate and truly honest look that would melt an iceberg or move a mountain.
“Listen to me. I know you don’t like to hear these things. But you have to come around and leave all of this behind. You really need to look forward and move on with your life. You are so special and unique; you have to open your eyes. You’re worth so much and deserve so much better. Tell me, why are you denying yourself this peace of mind, this freedom? Are you really so afraid of happiness?”
“Happiness!?” he shrugged, “Happiness? Listen to yourself! This is bullshit! Just go. Leave me alone. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about”.
As she heard his reaction, the look in her eyes changed from a warm breeze to an ice cold gust of air, she still held his hands, but she stopped rubbing them with her thumbs. There was an awkward silence for almost an entire minute, until finally she looked into his eyes again, but this time with disappointed eyes; what she was about to say could be seen in her eyes as clear as these words you are now reading before you, there was really no use for words, but she talked anyway.
“If I go… I will not come back. Not this time. As much as I love you, I can’t stand being with you and watching you throw your life away. I can’t be around you knowing you are holding everything back because of something you know is clearly out of your reach. As much as I love you, I will not stand to watch them drag you into oblivion. I’ve seen you like this for so many years; worried, scared, always trying to fix what you know you can’t fix. Every single second that passes by wears you down a little more, and every single time it wears me down with you. I love you. I could die for you. But I will not die with you.”
He didn’t say a word as she took her hands back, gave him her back and walked away.
“I won’t go after her”, he thought, “Fuck that, she doesn’t understand me. She doesn’t get me. She’ll never understand how it is. She lives a different life”.
He stood there for a little while at the doorstep before going inside. And as he did, he took a look around his house, what he had always considered his home. Some why, somehow, it felt different looking at the furniture, smelling the place, even the lighting seemed to have changed; it looked rather dull now. He could hear someone speaking really loud in one of the rooms. Almost anyone else would call it “yelling”, but in his house, yelling was something much louder than this. Nevertheless, the “loud speaking” continued. They were drunk, speaking in high-pitched voices, discussing all kinds of things. He didn’t pay attention anymore, he used to stand outside and hear the conversations –if you could call them that- just to try and understand what the big discussion was all about. But he knew better now, after all those years, he understood whatever the words sounded like, however the words were arranged, they were meaningless. It would’ve made no difference if they were barks or growls.
He walked towards his room, and on the way he saw things lying around that would’ve seemed normal any other day, but not this one. A pipe, some dubious smokes, ash trays, one or two pills, bottles and cans, and a lot of incense decorated the living room. He went into his room, turned on the stereo, and laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Music was always something good, something positive. He could stop time listening to music. But this time he just couldn’t do it. Her words kept roaming around his head, like a leak on a water faucet when you’re trying to sleep; dripping drops making a noise so annoying you’d rather sleep in the street just to get away from it. Despite the music, he could still hear the muffled sounds coming from the other room; loud speaking, loud speaking, yelling, screaming, whatever, it was there and you couldn’t avoid it. It was there along with the music, and it was there along with her words, her message, her eyes, those warm eyes of unconditional love, a love that could may as well be the truest of all loves in the entire world, a love that didn’t care about futile things, a love that did not focus on looks or money or cars or houses or jewelry or rules of any kind. An unselfish love that –once you acknowledged it- you found it out to be as pure and irreplaceable as the rarest diamond that had ever existed. A love that had no eyes, no head, no limbs, no body; just a heart and a soul.
He turned the music up, way up, and now you couldn’t hear anything but the loud music. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a keychain, and with shaking hands he managed to get a hold of a tiny key. He looked at it for a while, his surroundings were now inexistent, and there was only the key and himself standing in the middle of a room. He stared at the key and then hastily got into his closet. On the top shelf there was a tin box, hidden behind some board games and some old boxes. He took the tin box and went back to his bed, sat down, and looked at the key once more. He opened the small box; it was a blue and red box, really old from when he was a child. A lot of things had been kept there throughout his life; always what he considered his most important belongings at the time.
Today, the box was full to the very top with all sorts of things; a few stones, marbles, a couple of bullets, an arrowhead, an old pipe, among other things that somehow meant something to him. But he was looking for something in particular, and he turned the box facing down and shook till it was empty. A lot of memories came to his mind when he saw everything that was now lying over his bed; some good memoirs, and some bad ones. But he didn’t focus on these memories too much and rapidly browsed through all his cherished stuff. You could count over fifty different items, but he only took three things with him.
The first thing was a photograph; a family photograph that pictured his entire family; a still moment of happiness. Even though he really couldn’t say everyone was happy when they took that picture, the fact of looking at his entire family together in a picture just made him want to believe that it was a happy and joyful time.
The second object was a second picture. This one showed his grandparents in the late 40’s, when they were just married, smiling, hugging; black and white but with a look in their eyes that could’ve outshined any color picture you dared compare it to. It was not the image or the paper quality, or their physical appearance, it was just the feeling they portrayed; it was just the moment they had captured.
Finally, the third thing he picked out he held in his hand really tight for a while. He thought of many things in his life, of his past, of his present, and of his possible future. He thought of his house, the people in his house, the noises and smells in his house. But most of all, he thought about her. He kept hearing her words in his mind. And he kept picturing those eyes with that warm look. And as he did so he took the second picture and looked at those eyes in that picture. And he kept gripping the third item really tight with his right hand while he was doing this and thinking about all these things. Finally after a moment, he opened his hand and looked at what he was holding. It was a ring, his late grandmother’s wedding ring; a rather small but beautifully-cut clear and pure diamond that shone even in the dimmest of lights, just as the dullness that invaded his room and his entire house; it shone like a miniature star right there in his hand. He looked at it, he thought about everything once more. As he walked out of his room, he no longer noticed the music, the yelling, the smell, or anything else. And as he walked through the door, he stepped outside in a quick pace, thinking, “I’ve got a shot at happiness… and I’m gonna take it”.
“You deserve better, you deserve good. This shit is not for you. I mean, listen to them, they’re like animals, they’re like beasts, tearing each other apart and dragging you with them into their deep black hole of vices, hurting, and screaming. You are not your father, you are not your mother, you are not your brother, and you are stupid to think you’re gonna save their souls or some dumb idea like that. Face it; you’re on your own here. But you can make it on your own. You have to understand—“, but as she was saying this, he interrupted with a high-toned voice, but also trying to keep it down so that his conversation would not trespass the wooden door that separated them from whoever was passing by on the other side.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s not that simple—“.
“Then explain it to me! Explain it to me God damn it!! Explain to me why you’re one of the brightest most intelligent persons in the world and yet you are not able to acknowledge and face all the shit that’s going on right under your nose!”.
“Shut up ok! Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t see all of this shit that’s surrounding me and has been surrounding me ever since I had a conscience? I know, ok? I know!”.
“Well if you do then why don’t you do something about it? Why don’t you just accept you are powerless? You can’t make people change just like that. You can’t expect a person to turn his life 180 degrees from one day to the next. Please! Please understand this! You have to learn to let go. You have to move on and live your own life. You have to make your own decisions as hard as they may be. There is no easy path through life. We all go through tough shit, some tougher than others, but either way tough…”, she took his hands as these words left her mouth. His hands were cold, hers were warm. His hands were big and rough, and hers were gentle and soft. She rubbed them with her thumbs and looked straight into his eyes; a tender look, the kind of intense, intimate and truly honest look that would melt an iceberg or move a mountain.
“Listen to me. I know you don’t like to hear these things. But you have to come around and leave all of this behind. You really need to look forward and move on with your life. You are so special and unique; you have to open your eyes. You’re worth so much and deserve so much better. Tell me, why are you denying yourself this peace of mind, this freedom? Are you really so afraid of happiness?”
“Happiness!?” he shrugged, “Happiness? Listen to yourself! This is bullshit! Just go. Leave me alone. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about”.
As she heard his reaction, the look in her eyes changed from a warm breeze to an ice cold gust of air, she still held his hands, but she stopped rubbing them with her thumbs. There was an awkward silence for almost an entire minute, until finally she looked into his eyes again, but this time with disappointed eyes; what she was about to say could be seen in her eyes as clear as these words you are now reading before you, there was really no use for words, but she talked anyway.
“If I go… I will not come back. Not this time. As much as I love you, I can’t stand being with you and watching you throw your life away. I can’t be around you knowing you are holding everything back because of something you know is clearly out of your reach. As much as I love you, I will not stand to watch them drag you into oblivion. I’ve seen you like this for so many years; worried, scared, always trying to fix what you know you can’t fix. Every single second that passes by wears you down a little more, and every single time it wears me down with you. I love you. I could die for you. But I will not die with you.”
He didn’t say a word as she took her hands back, gave him her back and walked away.
“I won’t go after her”, he thought, “Fuck that, she doesn’t understand me. She doesn’t get me. She’ll never understand how it is. She lives a different life”.
He stood there for a little while at the doorstep before going inside. And as he did, he took a look around his house, what he had always considered his home. Some why, somehow, it felt different looking at the furniture, smelling the place, even the lighting seemed to have changed; it looked rather dull now. He could hear someone speaking really loud in one of the rooms. Almost anyone else would call it “yelling”, but in his house, yelling was something much louder than this. Nevertheless, the “loud speaking” continued. They were drunk, speaking in high-pitched voices, discussing all kinds of things. He didn’t pay attention anymore, he used to stand outside and hear the conversations –if you could call them that- just to try and understand what the big discussion was all about. But he knew better now, after all those years, he understood whatever the words sounded like, however the words were arranged, they were meaningless. It would’ve made no difference if they were barks or growls.
He walked towards his room, and on the way he saw things lying around that would’ve seemed normal any other day, but not this one. A pipe, some dubious smokes, ash trays, one or two pills, bottles and cans, and a lot of incense decorated the living room. He went into his room, turned on the stereo, and laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Music was always something good, something positive. He could stop time listening to music. But this time he just couldn’t do it. Her words kept roaming around his head, like a leak on a water faucet when you’re trying to sleep; dripping drops making a noise so annoying you’d rather sleep in the street just to get away from it. Despite the music, he could still hear the muffled sounds coming from the other room; loud speaking, loud speaking, yelling, screaming, whatever, it was there and you couldn’t avoid it. It was there along with the music, and it was there along with her words, her message, her eyes, those warm eyes of unconditional love, a love that could may as well be the truest of all loves in the entire world, a love that didn’t care about futile things, a love that did not focus on looks or money or cars or houses or jewelry or rules of any kind. An unselfish love that –once you acknowledged it- you found it out to be as pure and irreplaceable as the rarest diamond that had ever existed. A love that had no eyes, no head, no limbs, no body; just a heart and a soul.
He turned the music up, way up, and now you couldn’t hear anything but the loud music. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a keychain, and with shaking hands he managed to get a hold of a tiny key. He looked at it for a while, his surroundings were now inexistent, and there was only the key and himself standing in the middle of a room. He stared at the key and then hastily got into his closet. On the top shelf there was a tin box, hidden behind some board games and some old boxes. He took the tin box and went back to his bed, sat down, and looked at the key once more. He opened the small box; it was a blue and red box, really old from when he was a child. A lot of things had been kept there throughout his life; always what he considered his most important belongings at the time.
Today, the box was full to the very top with all sorts of things; a few stones, marbles, a couple of bullets, an arrowhead, an old pipe, among other things that somehow meant something to him. But he was looking for something in particular, and he turned the box facing down and shook till it was empty. A lot of memories came to his mind when he saw everything that was now lying over his bed; some good memoirs, and some bad ones. But he didn’t focus on these memories too much and rapidly browsed through all his cherished stuff. You could count over fifty different items, but he only took three things with him.
The first thing was a photograph; a family photograph that pictured his entire family; a still moment of happiness. Even though he really couldn’t say everyone was happy when they took that picture, the fact of looking at his entire family together in a picture just made him want to believe that it was a happy and joyful time.
The second object was a second picture. This one showed his grandparents in the late 40’s, when they were just married, smiling, hugging; black and white but with a look in their eyes that could’ve outshined any color picture you dared compare it to. It was not the image or the paper quality, or their physical appearance, it was just the feeling they portrayed; it was just the moment they had captured.
Finally, the third thing he picked out he held in his hand really tight for a while. He thought of many things in his life, of his past, of his present, and of his possible future. He thought of his house, the people in his house, the noises and smells in his house. But most of all, he thought about her. He kept hearing her words in his mind. And he kept picturing those eyes with that warm look. And as he did so he took the second picture and looked at those eyes in that picture. And he kept gripping the third item really tight with his right hand while he was doing this and thinking about all these things. Finally after a moment, he opened his hand and looked at what he was holding. It was a ring, his late grandmother’s wedding ring; a rather small but beautifully-cut clear and pure diamond that shone even in the dimmest of lights, just as the dullness that invaded his room and his entire house; it shone like a miniature star right there in his hand. He looked at it, he thought about everything once more. As he walked out of his room, he no longer noticed the music, the yelling, the smell, or anything else. And as he walked through the door, he stepped outside in a quick pace, thinking, “I’ve got a shot at happiness… and I’m gonna take it”.
posted by double d at
2:28 AM
1 Comments:
I love reading this shit (this shit - like in DA SHIT!!!).
Nice work.
Pistol Chunky
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pistolchunky, at 9:44 PM
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