Writing Part 2!

So here is my creepier one. It is kind of a retelling of one of my favorite play "The Zoo Story", but it's also about my friend and the animalistic side of life. I am reworking it a bit, so it's not perfect, but it's still fun.

To Find A Friend

Lips are quivering while I'm smoking my little cylinder of death; waiting for these minor aches in my left arm to form into a mind numbingly painful heart attack. I'm trapped in my cramped, dark, dank, room. The four walls are closing in, inch, by inch, I feel it. I hear it even, the landlord, he says it's just the building settling, but I know the truth. I'm not as stupid as everyone thinks I am. I take another drag. It tickles my throat, the smoke chuckling as I exhale. It says soon I will fall ill and pass on to my next life: the next level of hell.

New point, my heart pounding with thoughts of death; I have become obsessed with the notion. Put a gun to my head and blow my mind away. Take a pillow, place it over my mouth and slowly suffocate. Drive off the road, fly off a cliff, and kiss my burnt ass away. Would the world be saddened? Would anyone shed a tear? My guess is no. But the thought stems from an over romanticized ideal of what it would be like. Go haunt people that have done me wrong. Watch the spectators at my funeral. I say spectators because they are not the ones experiencing it, I am; they are just there to see the show.

Raging in the frontal lobe, I am a failure both in business and in my personal life. I have come to this realization about a minute ago. I have done nothing, accomplished nothing! I am working for a moron who believes a clock store is the answer to all the universes’ problems. All day long I feel my soul tick-tocking away. I had dreams, I had plans to be great, and here I am explaining why this expensive clock is better then the cheap ass one. The difference is the price, nothing else, that's it. What happened to the boy who wanted to grow up to be a painter? He has transformed into a big, fat, sweaty mess, of a man.

Gouging out my retinas right now, as I peep out my one bedroom apartment I notice couples walking by. They are lit by the prancing lights of cars passing by. Their whole body seems to flow to a tango beat. So joyous, so caught up in the other person, so sickening to the window on looker. Aren't you special, you made a connection with another person!? I on the other hand have met no one, love no one, and not even myself as of late. This pack of smokes, my hand, and self-loathing keep me warm at night. It's a wonderful threesome.

Fingers aching from writing down all my thoughts in this book. Now sitting down in the park hoping for some contact with another person. I know I could make a friend if I only put out an effort. Everyone that passes this bench has a different story, a different agenda; so many portraits could express these feelings. A business man is walking his dog looking for a woman to notice his caring side. A woman is reading to her three kids under the shade of a tree. Not one person though is looking my way. Not a single person seems to care about little old…

"What are you doing?" A voice asks from behind my park bench. I quickly shut the little journal I was writing in.

"Just putting some thoughts on paper." I explain as I turn around to see a man standing above me.

"Sorry, I hate people who read over your shoulder and here I am doing the same." The man professes.

"Really? Um… It's okay… What did you think?" I finally spit out.

"Lot of aggression in there." He takes a seat next to me.

I light another cigarette. "Anything else?"

"Can I have one of those?" I hand him a smoke and fire. "It's relatable."

"Really? Thank you."

"Where does the anger come from?" He questions.

"Well, it's not very interesting."

"Try me." He nags.

"Okay, it's like this. I am Thirty-four, I am the equivalent of a store clerk. I have no friends. Seriously, I don't have one. This is probably the longest conversation I've had with someone in months." I explain.

"So you're getting sick of being alone?" He asks.

"Wouldn't you? I mean my family is non-existent. My father left when I was five, my mother drank herself to death. Literally, I walk into our house after school one day, I was like, sixteen, and there was her cold body on the couch, her hand clenching a glass of wine. The glass was half empty… or half full depending on how you look at it." I tried to joke my way out of tears.

"That's horrible."

"Yeah. Then of course I started to become antisocial, friends just started to drop off left and right. All because I couldn't hold a conversation, nor did I have anything to offer them as a friend. I didn't listen to their problems, they didn't listen to mine, and twenty years later, I am trapped in my one bedroom apartment in complete darkness to the rest of the world." I feel relieved.

Hands trembling slightly from the thought that I may have just revealed too much about myself and scared this kind man away. Why I did this seems justified in my head, I have spent a lot of time just bottling this stuff away, without a soul to talk to. It was just a matter of time before it all came blurting out. This gentleman probably would have made a good friend, but at least he gave me some kind of conversation before I die. Lord, knows that he'll make up a reason to leave now.

"Tell you what, how about we go and get some coffee?" He offers. I follow because what else am I going to do right now?

We walk a little ways in silence before he breaks the ice again.

"Sorry, I can't believe I never introduced myself. I'm Jim."

"Hi, Jim. I'm Franklin." I responded as we shake hands.

"So, Frank, you don't have anyone to turn to in this world?"

"That's right. I mean, I wonder how the world will react when I'm gone, but to be honest, I don't think anyone would know."

"What if I told you, I could help you out with your problems?" He asks hiding a smile.

My soul glows with the thought that someone that I have talked to for less then five minutes is willing to help me out and solve my problems. I was sure that everything good in this world was killed off long ago and now Jim proves all that wrong.
I grin from ear to ear. "I would say; when do we start?"

"Right now."

"Thank you." I almost scream with joy.

"Don't thank me yet." We enter the local coffee shop. "What's your drink of choice?"

"God, I don't know I'm not much of a coffee drinker. Ahhh, café Mocha?" I respond.

"Two medium café Mochas, please." The way he says this even puts a smile on the over worked girl behind the counter. Jim even pays for both drinks.

We take a seat and the enamor of someone talking to me starts to wear off so I finally see Jim for who he is. He is dressed in a business suit. Power tie, fancy/ shinny burgundy shirt, and black pants and jacket to match. He has to be some big CEO or lawyer, shrink, something important. So why was he talking to a t-shirt and jeans guy like me? He also has a wedding ring on, so he probably has a family too, this doesn't make sense.

"One, one medium Mocha, two, two medium Mochas! Whahaha." The coffee shop girl announced like the Count from Sesame Street. We take a sip.

My stomach cheers with joy over the hot chocolate drink. Both bitter and sweet at the same time, I wonder what I've been fighting all these years, coffee, caffeine, is great. I want to do this everyday, if my wallet can handle it.

We were back to walking around the town. "Frank, you don't look at life in the correct light." Jim bluntly pointed out.

"How so?"

"You think I got the wife I have, the kid that's on the way, the promotions at work, from looking at what has gone wrong in my life?"

"I guess not."

"You guess not?" He looks at me with a stern face.

"Okay, no, I am sure you didn't get there by being a Negative Nancy." I try to lighten the mood with no success.

"Good, step one has begun. You don't have friends, or family, but look around." He presented the world like a game show host.

"People walking around to their meaningless existence, animals doing the same." I respond.

"God, okay maybe here isn't the right place to show you perspective. Come on, we're going on a trip." He grabbed my hand and pulled me along the side walk.
"Where are we going?" I ask.

"You'll see."

We walked about two blocks to Jim's car. I got in and we headed north towards the mountains. An hour later we pulled into a local park. Jim caught me watching some kids play basketball.

"Perfect, those kids are perfect to start with." Jim gleamed with excitement.

"They are?"

He quickly parked the car and dragged me closer to the children's court.

"What makes those kids different from you?" Jim pondered.

"Athletic skills?" I responded.

"No, they don't have the same worries."

"But that's because they are younger." I snapped.

"No, NO, NO. They don't look at what's not going to happen to them in the future, they look forward to what is going to happen to them. They don't worry about not having friends or family dying, those uncertainties never cross their minds."

"Like I said because they are younger."

"See, in life you need to keep that inner child alive otherwise you are doomed. When people talk about your inner child that's what they mean. They aren't talking about acting like a jackass, whining when you don't get your way, they mean you don't let those dreams, that determination die out." Jim preaches.

My ears are clogged with outrageous advice and new world philosophies. I am not really sure what Jim is getting at here. These kids are important because they feel everything is going to be A-OK in their little lives and as long as that doesn't change they will end up being someone like Jim when they grow up and not like me?

"That's how you ended up where you are?"

"Exactly!" Jim announces to the world. When he said that I felt some of that old hope spark inside of me again.

"Alright, step two, the pop quiz, follow me." Jim started to walk towards the woods.
I followed him. We didn't talk for awhile. We just kept going deeper and deeper into the wooded area until Jim stopped to look around and then we started to climb the mountain that we came upon. We came to a clearing of rocks.
My feet ache at the thought of more movement; the walk hasn't been that bad, but this is more exercise then I've done in a while. I just need a break, a smoke wouldn't be good right now, but I want one. Water maybe?

Jim pointed to one rock specifically."Go sit on that rock." He commanded.

I did what I was told because it's what I was praying for. I climbed up and sat down. The view was otherworldly. I am not lying I could see for miles, it was amazing. Jim found another rock to sit on. We just sat there for an hour not talking or acknowledging the other, until the sun began to set.

"My God, that's beautiful." I said in awe.

"Thank you." Jim whispered. "See there is so much around you to be grateful for, so much to look forward to. You just have to adjust your eyes to see the true light." He profoundly remarked.

"I see that now. I mean the sky looks like a painting."

"It's better because you don't have to pay to experience it and unlike a painting this is an experience. You get to smell the cool night air float in, your irises get to adjust to the light, and you, unlike so many others, get to look up and know that this sight was put upon this earth for you to enjoy in your own way." Jim finished and began to head down the mountain. I took one last look and followed. A memory that will be forever burnt into my mind.

As we walked along the path we had made trucking up this hill I wondered what was in store for me next. This day had been pretty surreal from our first meeting, but so much more secrets of this world had been revealed to me. Granted, some of which were not too profound, but when the shit piles up, you forget that there are more fragrances then just flatulence.

"Did you bring your bathing suit?" Jim asked out of nowhere.

"Never leave home without it." I sarcastically throw back.

"It's okay, you won't need one."

My brow furrows at the thought of what is to come. Something that has to do with water, that's for sure. We took to the road once again in Jim's car. Destination unknown, but I am sure it holds great importance. Sure enough we pull up to the beach. We walk to the side of this hill, and he lies down. I follow suit. Jim spoke not a word for ten minutes.

"Here it comes." He almost yelled.

"Here what comes?" I said as a loud noise filled our ear drums.

We were near the airport. A plane just flies over head; it seems so close to our bodies even though it is safe in the sky above. As amazing as this is, I have no idea what this has to do with our quest.

"Wasn't that great?" He asks.

"Of course it was."

"See, what are you doing worrying about everything? You are nothing but a tiny creature on this earth. There are thousands of monsters, giants, which take to the sky, and flatten this earth. All of which are controlled by a tiny being like yourself. We control everything, but the weather here on this planet of ours. We even control the circle of life. We take lives of creatures every hunting season. We take the lives of people on death row, all the while pumping out children, creating new life. So if we can control all of that, why can't we take hold of our destiny, our lives?" Jim preached to the world around him not just to me.

"I guess, we do have the power to do what we want when we want. But what holds us back?"

"You and only you. That is all your fears taking control of your body, you need to go in there and kill them off." Jim explained.

My gut is lightened by the heavy amount of fear that has been living there for years. It was finally starting to sink in. All my problems were fixable. I have had the power all along to change the way my life is going; the only problem is that I needed someone else to show me that side of things.

"Now it's time for the final exam. Let's hope we pass." Jim said as he walks back to the car.

I dust off the sand from my body and follow him like a loving puppy. He said "we pass", this quest is one that we are both on. If I fail then he fails. I have truly met a friend; someone who cares.

Back in the car and off to a new location, hopefully one with extreme meaning, that will open that last secret door to the new world. Jim takes me back to the park where we first met. We sit back down on the bench.

"Do you understand what I've been trying to say now?" He asks.

"Yeah, I think so… No, I know so. We’ve come full circle. I really feel inspired."

"Inspiration only lasts so long. I mean even after you've completed the finding of inspiration, it only takes you so far, then you have to do the rest for yourself." Jim calmly spoke.

"I get that now."

"I can see in your eyes that you grasp this, I really can." He whispers and bows his head. We sit in silence again. I don't know what to say, but it’s obvious that something is on Jim's mind. "You know I've seen you here day after day." Jim quietly states.

"Really? What made you stop and talk to me today?" I ask.

"Its part of my daily routine, I walk in the park, examining my life, figure out what head space I'm in." He wasn’t even really talking to me so much as the air around him. "I'm about to be a father, about to bring life into this world, and I have always wanted to do something." I start getting worried. "See I am about to enter a world of the intellectual side of being human. I mean, I've been on that side of things forever, but there has always been ways to get out. I could quit, get divorced and join the other side, the animalistic side of things." He pauses.

"I don't understand."

"This is my last chance because any day now my wife's water will break, this beeper will go off for the first and last time, and I will no longer be able to experience that side to life. My child will ground me into being a business man. That is the second to last lesson, seeing the animal inside." Jim solemnly states.

"What's the last then?"

"Seeing the pearly gates or the flames of hell." Jim pulled out a knife.

"What are you…?" I wasn't able to finish my sentence, he stabs me.

"You get to see it all today, Frank. That is my gift to you." Jim twists the knife.

My lungs collapse from the knife wound. I struggle with him for awhile. I fight to live. I can't believe it myself. I had always reviled in the thought of my passing and now I want to see another day. This man who opened my eyes now brought darkness to them. My hands lunge for his throat. Anger had taken over, I need to get help, and I needed to punish this man.

"See the animal, who wants nothing more then to survive." Jim speaks over my gurgle. "I've been watching you because I knew you were the key to getting away with it. Then after talking to you, I realized that taking the life of someone who was already dead inside was not what I needed." I stopped struggling, my strength had left. "I needed to be animalistic; I needed to destroy that hope, those dreams." He cradles me in his arms like a child. "I told you I'd make it all go away didn't I?" He asked. I nod back. My only friend in years and this is what happens. My blood dripping down to my pants and on this mans hands. Jim licked the blood off one finger to taste his trip to the animal side. "I'm sorry Frank, but at least you passed the exam." He said as he set me down on my bench.

Things started going dark, I have lost a lot of blood, but the last thing I remember was hearing the faint buzz of his beeper vibrating and an "Oh SHIT!" from Jim before he walked away.

Electrical storms in my mind form these last thoughts and are as follows. Is he going to get caught? I can only hope. Will I be saved, given a second chance at life? The lights are going dim. My death is a slow one. It’s black for a while until my wish is granted.

A vision flashes before my eyes. I’m at my funeral watching from above, it seems someone upstairs has been listening all along. The turn out is small, but to be honest I didn’t expect much. In the front row sits a familiar, well dressed, man, he hands his beautiful wife their baby. Then Jim approaches the casket. There are tears in his eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a handkerchief, which begins to loosen. It’s the knife he murdered me with. He places the blood, stained, weapon into my bodies’ coat pocket. No one even saw and with that I’m gone.