Untitled Document- Chapter One- Part One (edit)

My family decided to move to another city when I was having real hard teenage years. I turned seventeen and things got very weird. I never cared about my age. Never wanted to grow up when I was kid, and as a grownup I don’t really want to be a kid. The life seemed interesting on every other level. So I just lived. I think I’m normal. I don’t have a lot of friends, just a couple, and they aren’t the best.

I didn’t really knew the reason for our move. My mom and Dad separated. They fought a lot. That didn’t really disturb me, I didn’t care, or. . . I don’t know. I had so many problems in my head, I wasn’t looking for more. Did I say problems? Huh. . . I think those were more like thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep at night. I would think of everything, and connect anything with anything and the hours went on. I was planning each day, thinking about different people and the way they acted. I was discovering the causes of their actions. I was thinking a lot about my future. I wanted to know who I wanted to be, and how to accomplish that. How could I achieve anything? Night went on and the next thing I knew – it was 8:00am and I had to get up for school. So whenever my parents were arguing about something – I would just put my headphones on, or leave the house.

I don't think they were fighting because hated or loved each other. They both didn’t accomplish what they wanted in life. Everything was shitty. I didn’t want to live in that world, but wherever you go - I mean getting high, or getting drunk, or even those meditation guys on TV - you still get right back to this world. Smashed on the ground.

So we moved to the Rayge City. My mom and dad were living apart, but both lived in First Block. Sometimes I would stay at my dad’s house, sometimes at mom’s house, sometimes just lie to both of them and wandered streets. I liked the darkness and beauty of silence in cold streets during the fall.

At some point, I realized I didn’t want to go home. Then I realized that I don’t have a home. Home is where your heart is. I didn’t really know anything about my heart, just my brain, supplying me with thoughts. And they would get more complex and get harder to decipher. I was thinking of all the ways that things could go down. I was thinking philosophically, psychologically, spiritually, this was my way of explaining and learning a life as a teenager.

As I said, I lived in first block, there’s second block, just a few streets across. My neighbors don’t like people from second block. And as I then found out, people from second block don’t liked us. Summer was over and fall started with rain. Leafs disappeared, streets got cold and gray.

And here I am, wandering the streets at night, as I realize how stupid I am. Everybody’s trying to be unique, I just realized I’m the same. I think we all are the same. And as we want to be different, we are different like others trying to be. It’s just so stupid. I should write down my thoughts, I’m always forgetting them. Oh. . . my phone rings.

- "Yeah?" I say.

- "Jimmy, where are you? At dad’s house?" says my mom.

- "Um. . . yeah mom. . ." I answer.

- "Okay." She hangs up.

I wish I could help her. I think I’m doing my best but… I’m just her son. I wish I could be that brother or friend she needs. My phone rings again.

- "Hello?" I say.

- "Son, where are you? At your mom’s?" My dad's voice comes over from the other end.

- "Yeah dad." I lie.

- "Okay. Take care kid." He says cheerily.

- "Bye dad." I tell him.

God, I want to sleep. I’ll just sit on that bench. I’m in the park. I sit on the bench. My eyes are getting heavy. I’m sleeping.

The alarm on the phone wakes me up. It’s 7:00am. The park is empty, nobody saw me sleeping here, I think. Better get going, don’t want to be late for school. Rayge City. Rayge City’s #1 public school. It’s pretty much a ghetto school. They want to know everything about you, especially that I’m still pretty new around here. They are all the same. Ghetto kids, just like me. . . Just like me? My subconscious thinks I’m ghetto? Well, I do sleep on the bench time and time again. Shit. . . I am. Here comes Tiffany

- "Hey Jimmy!" She calls.

Get lost girl, don’t you see I’m wearing headphones, I can’t hear you!

- "Hey Jimmy! Wait up!" She shouts.

I can hear her yelling at maximum volume. She takes my headphones.

- "Hey gimme those back!" I yell, irritated.

- "Here. . . Can’t you hear me?" Tiffany asks.

- "Can’t you see?" I ask her, still annoyed.

I’m poking her nose with my headphones. She gives me a stupid face.

- "You look like shit." She staes, ever so rudely.

- "Watch your mouth. . ." I warn her.

- "How? Take my eyeballs out and turn them around?' She says sarcastically.

- "I taught you that phrase, don’t repeat, it belongs to me." I say.

- "Well, you took it from a song." She reminds me.

She’s so satisfied.

- "Didn’t sleep well Jimmy? Did you sleep at all?" She asks rudely.

- "That's none of your business." I state.

- "Oh really? When you call me in the middle of the night, telling me some bullshit you think   and I’m listening like I care, that’s my business, right?" She quickly interjects.

Oops.

- "First of all: I didn’t call you in the middle of the night, it was 10 pm. Second, I just talked about how stupid this “first block vs second” thing is." I say.

- "What? Are you serious? First block forever!" She argues as she makes a crazy face.

- "Are you seriously into that shit?" I ask, shocked.

- "Well, yeah. . ." She trails off, unsure of herself.

- "Then I was talking to a wall. Anyways, my class is on the right, yours – on the left. See you at your funeral!" I shout as I walk qickly away.

- "There’s fifteen minutes before class. . ." She says, confused.

- "Don’t care!" I shout over my shoulder."

- "Asshole!" She retorts.

- "Bitch!" I shout back without turning to look at her.

I’m approaching Chad. He’s a friend of mine. Clap and hug.

- "What’s up Jimmy?" He asks innocently.

He has funny voice. He’s a bit slow, not retarded, but not smart.

- "Not much. . . What’s up with you?" I reply.

- "Same. Man, Jimmy, you look like shit, man." He tells me bluntly.

- "Uh-huh. . ." I reply warily.

- "Hey. . . Are you going to th-th-the. . . The p-party?" He asks.

- "What party?" I ask him.

- "Th-th-the party for first block, di-didn’t you hear?" He asks, surprised.

- "Nah, hear what?" I ask.

He looks around, leans closer to me, and gets focused.

- "This shit is getting serious with second b-block. Th-they say, they are going to talk some shit a-at the party, y-you know? When everybody’s there. . . and um. . . And people. . . are going to hear it. . ." He says quiet enough for only us two to hear.

I only move my lips. Then I reply.

- "Um. . . I don’t know, man. I’m not into that. I don’t want to be involved and I don’t give a damn." i infrom him.

- "Well. . . You. . . You must be on somebody’s s-side, Jimmy, or. . . uh. . . things will get fucked up, you know what I mean? Especially sinse. . . you’re still the, um . . . The new guy." He warns me.

- "I’ll think about it Chad." I lie.

Classes are starting. Time flies. I’m just drawing in my notebook. I like drawing, I put my emotions there. And I draw pretty well. It helps to kill time. I don’t like colors. Black and white is enough, if you’re good at it. . . Then classes are over.

- "Bye Chad. . ." - I wave at him.

- "Bye Jimmy!" He says a little too loudly

I’m walking out from the school yard, I hope Tiffany doesn’t show up, or. . . Do want her to show up? Oh, there she is, with her friends. Whatever, I’ll go to the park, maybe I’ll see Bogart. I’m heading that way. Bogart is homeless, he’s about forty to forty five years old. I’m at the park entrance, it says: “Park of Beauty and Dreams”. Heh, more like “Park of Sadness and Nightmares” to me. There’s Bogart, he’s waving at me. I’m going towards him. I take my headphones off.

- "Hey Bogart! What are you doing?" I call out.

- "Can’t you see? I’m boiling some shit to eat. . ." He replies snippily in a hoarse voice.

He has a little campfire. Bogart is wearing old blue jeans and big green coat and a black Marijuana headband.

- "Damn it, Jimmy! You couldn’t hear me calling you. Throw those headphones away! They're bad for your ears!" He shouts in my face with bad breath.

- "You know I won’t do that. . ." I tell him truthfully.

- "Ah… screw you!" He sits down near the fire. He asks for five bucks.

- "Five bucks is all I got, man." I tell him.

- "Give me then!" He demands.

- "Nah, I need it." I reply.

- "Go ask your Father, he will give you some money." He tells me, desperate.

This makes me smile.

- "My pops? Last time I asked him to give me five bucks, he went all creepy. He was like 'When you will be working, will you give me five bucks, son? I don’t think so'." I inform him, laughing slightly.

- "You’re doing it with a funny voice, eh?" He asks.

- "Yeah. . . He’s talking that kind of shit all the time, man. And I can’t find a freaking job in this town." I state, getting angry.

- "There’s some factory in second block. You could go there." He tells me.

- "Nah man, there's this shit is going on with first block and second block, I wanted to ask you about it." I tell him.

- "It's still going on?" He asks, surprised.

- "Still? Well. . . Yeah. I heard some beef went down, now first block is throwing a big party and inviting everyone, they want to gather a crew or something, I think. Why do they have so much hate for each other?" I ask, confused.

- "Who knows. . . This world is crazy, the people are even crazier." He says.

- "Well, it’s a problem for me. I have to pick a side, or I’m a public enemy." I tell him, worried.

- "You don’t have to choose the side. "You don’t have to choose shit. Just stay out, they’ll fight a bit." He states casually.

- "What is there in this shitty town to fight for?" I ask glumly.

- "I don’t know. . . For someone it matters, for people. . . It’s just for fun. It’s pretty hard to explain. Just stay out of it and you’ll be cool." He tells me.

- "For who does it matter?" I ask confused.

- "Forget it, kid. Whatever. People only see problems in each other, not in themselves. First block wants to dominate second, second wants to dominate first. You don’t want to get involved, kid." He tells me, annoyed by my questions.

- "And those who don’t give a damn are hated by both?" I ask him, amazed and orrified.

- "Pretty much, yes." He says.

- "Wow. . . Well, anyways… I need a job, I need money. I think I could sell drugs" I tell him.

Bogart laughs.

- "What’s so funny?" I ask, annoyed.

- "Nothing. You’re saying that like it’s so easy." He explains.

- "Well, it’s easy in this shitty town. I know drug dealers are quarreled with cops." I reply.

- "Yes they are." He agrees.

- "So. . . Do you know a guy I can go to?" I ask him.

- "I’ll ask around, come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you. And if it works, you'll have to give me five bucks everyday!" He says.

Now I’m laughing.

- "Alright. If it works. I’ll be going now. Bye. . ." I say as I get ready to leave.

- "Take care, kid." He tells me as he turns back towards the fire.

I see Tiffany on the bench nearby. I approach her.