"Noble Loser" A short story I'm finished with but would like to tweak. 18+ some iffy themes

noble loser

I hate myself. That is the only thing that I can be certain of at the moment. Through all the waste I must shuffle around to get to my job just to fucking serve them their double stuffed burgers with extra bacon, but don’t put the old ones I want fresh fucking bacon, well news flash bitch they’re all fucking stale! That got me some time alone with my thoughts at home, a gift really. It’s always a great reminder that my job could just as easily be done by a chimp, does wonders for the self-esteem.

The sting never fades

So what to do now, no more girlfriend (that’s shot to hell), no more family, no more Duke. I still remember exactly when I got Duke, it was one of those summer days the celosias really stood out against the litter peppered amongst the homeless beggars laboring for their next fix and the added bonus of the atypical but never unrecognized child accompanied by shambles of parents, back hunched, eyes dilated, vomit crusted lips, the visible refuge of modern society. Deaf ears, or perhaps indifferent ones welcomed Duke’s cries. But what’s a hungry dog’s merit when the goal in life is wealth. His slow waddle towards me with the grand finale in form of a dry cough ignited an intense vigor in the empty cavity of the creature on the other end of the leash. The creature set forth a dribble of venomous words in order to declare upon this great land of ours his clear and indubitable revulsion towards the very idea of my current retirement on the slab of concrete in which “steve” has taken the time to etch his name on to. And I wasn’t going to fucking have it. The whole two week journey I took part of in my boxing class had primed me for that moment, I repeated to myself “Eyes on chest, feet apart, fists on cheeks”, as to indicate my intentions I clench my body and cock my fist forward. That’s when I latched my eyes to the six inches of metal being exposed to the outside atmosphere. The violent marriage of the sunlight and blade momentarily shaded my vision from entirely all.

And now, panic

Everything comes to a screeching halt, here comes the “my life flashed before my eyes moment”, but nothing. I can see the beads of sweat trickling down his nose to arrive at to his mustache, I can see the specks of crimson water on his arm surrounding the indent of last night’s regression, but I cannot spot a single warm memory. No happy days in the park, not a single moment of clarity. Everything was death, I felt numb. The hopeful horizon, in which I would frolic with a lover or hold a child in my hands never came.

Fight

My fist met his face, like a slab of meat falling on marble, he hardly flinched. I guess after a certain amount of chemical influence we can all become Superman. With one swift dash he was on me, blade at hand one can hardly breath. Clawing at his paws for the knife hardly helped, it left me open to whatever abuses this skeleton of a man could conjurer. That was the end, I was sure of it. The metal appendage met the floor, the skeleton was in pain. He clutched his heart like a child does a toy. The look of terror. Head first then body, the sound could never be unheard. A dull thud brought about is one of abject horror, his thirst could never be quenched and now he must pay the price. I was content; this meant I was no longer meeting Lucifer. Bent over to try to compose myself after this clear peak in my life in regards to people trying to kill, I locked eyes with the young pup, the look of total bliss that had illuminated from it is one unfamiliar to most. His immaculate animosity towards his owner was our first kindling moment(among few others). He walked to me as if he and I have been friends for years, his spotted ears brought up as if to hear a crescendo from Mozart himself, tongue flopping and tail wagging.

The gloom walk home was a disturbed one, the rush brought about from the bout resulted in two things; me having a new comrade and me realizing I just left a man for dead. My moist shoe gingerly lifted and fell and no emotion. Non-at all. What kind of monster have I become, the man was dying, I could have helped.

No, no fuck him, that bastard was going to do me in

It was better that way; the fruitless effort I would have made could not have resulted in anything positive. The police, the family, the statements, I didn’t want to be bothered by it and I wasn’t.

I’d won

The beautiful bartender across the hall noted Duke’s presence as we walked through the door, I remember thinking, maybe she’ll like me too, But really just another chance for me to be an asshole.

“Hey guy, cute dog”

“Thanks, I actually just got him today”

“Oh nice! He’s a rescue right?”

“Yeah” (I guess)

“aww he’s so cute I could just eat him up!”

“I’d eat you up”

I’ve gotten some dirty looks in my day but that was the fucking worst. Clearly I’m not the silver-tongued savant I envisioned myself.

The door to my flat seemed extra heavy that day, the overwhelming smell of failure and late notices filled the nostrils. Once more I stepped onto the damp and hideous welcome mat, something that should reserved to a certain level (a low level) of people. The shear site of my apartment nearly filled my eyes with tears, the dirt incrusted brick walls, family heirlooms not familial at all, a whole Italian restaurant worth of spices and no food. I had to try to shape up.

I’d fail

When I found the pillow under my bed I knew it was the one. That black faux silk cover trimmed with gold and shrouded in dust, worthy of royalty. The pillow propped by the nicest corner of the flat, the one with the least amount of mold and cigarette butts, worthy of royalty. Food is the only thing I needed.

Dammit! Have to change the bandage; it’s soaked to the point of dripping. Why do I do this?

No food for myself let alone a dog, had to go to the market.

Down the stairs once more, I should have signed the petition for the elevator. The grind just to get down the stairs, I knew it was time. Walking to the store I felt a deep self-loathing. They all knew, I could see it in their beady rat like eyes as I turned the corner before the store and down the alleyway. I needed it.

I still do

Money exchanged hands, drugs soon followed. On the walk back I felt an eupotamic kiss from the heavens, seeking refuged from the environment I dissipated into the same store I was trying to circumvent. I still don’t know what it was, maybe the large rotund man with the shaggy hair, maybe the smell of wet dog coming from my soaked overcoat, but I remembered Duke. I needed to return with food. The shame that follows having to pay for generic store brand cup of noodles and a lone tin of cat food(it’s cheaper) with coins and soiled crumped coupons is one I rather not repeat; not that I put out an air of sophistication and class but still I felt I had to keep up appearances. Walking home was the first time in a long time I felt somewhat motivated to put myself above my cravings, I was going to fix it. Telling my plan to Duke was trivial but it helped me come to grips of it all, he was just happy to be eating.

Briskly opening the pantry to remember the lack of means I was under jolted my body with anger, closely tailed by tears. I knew that it was the right choice for me.

I was finally going to bite the bullet and cure myself from this monkey on my back

Heh, still kinda funny

A farewell to duke for the day and I was off. Walking down the street the world felt brighter, not only because it was daytime but because of the sense of improvement that was soon to come. It was an empowering thing; I was finally talking my life into my own hands and mending things. Smiling was something quite foreign to me, but yesterday of all days I was moved to it. The cold metal hand that greeting mine was still misted from last nights rain, but it lead to warmer climates. The shop keep asked me if I need anything, and in turn I handed my prescription for my medication.

Being told I’d have to come in the next day for it to be ready was heart breaking but something I’d have to deal with, non the less I was happy.

It cost every penny I had but it is worth it, happy at last

I figured since today was the last day of this life I was subjected to live, this influenced lifestyle, I figured might as well square off some things before I get better. Walking into Derek’s place was hard, much harder than finally pulling the trigger and getting clean. I asked him to forgive me for being a bad influence and urged him to quit as I was soon to, even if by traditional means. He wept and I gave him the last embrace he’d ever feel from me. Walking out was hard.

The long walk to my mother’s house was rather pleasant, my leather shoes diligently brushing off the water from the slick lathered stone was one thing I quite loved. There is no alternative for a fine article of clothing doing its job. Knocking on the door made my legs almost collapse, I was frightened. Mother opened the door calmly but with reservations, as if I was a junkie knocking on his mother’s door to ask for money. I asked her if I could come and talk to her and she agreed naturally. Small pools of glinting water formed when I had conveyed the news, I had left the details of it open-ended but she was content. She informed me my late father would have been proud and I was on my way. My carefully worded delivery to her was intentional but I felt for the best.

Taylor, as pious as one can be that was her, lush full hair overflowing that knit cap she always donned, divine intervention from the heavens surely. For most of the time I knew her she was my reason for staying content with my life, the unfettered happiness she radiated analog to nothing worldly. I summoned all my bravery to walk up her steps, but lionhearted I am not. Cowering to what she might think I walked away fear and loathing in the streets proceeded. I wish I was better for her; she will forever be etched in my consciousness.

I love you, sleep well

Pelting my thoughts with her those final hours of my former self was all I could accomplish. I wished more than anything I could travel back in time to better myself, with regret and sorrow people always think of the better choices they could have committed.

The damp and hostile place that is a dark, narrow ally seems to levitate from thought when not focused on resisting expiration, and the dehydration brought about inherently eased tensions. Saying good-bye to my last tie to the world of stimulus was jarring on the body but I got to have my last dosage from it.

He was kind to do that

Peering at the local families and youth enjoying their independence was quite pleasant, I had hopes it would continue. Opening the door to an eager pup was the highlight of the hour, I felt loved once more, but of course I had to see I couldn’t keep him. The bartender across the hall happily took him, but when asked why “business” was the only declaration I could mutter.

Walking up was the happiest I would ever be until I had my treatment, and for that I was thankful. I was never a holy man but that day I prayed to get better.

The shopkeeper said hello once again and promptly gestured as my newly minted medication, and I felt numb. Numb, numb to the fact that I would have to end all my ties to my “friends” and numb to the fact I was going to end my tie to my habit. “This is for the best” I assured myself. I was finally going to be better.

I was finally getting a grip on my problem

All I ever wanted was to find my place in life, some people like to help the poor, some people like to help themselves. I could never really find my place but I can now see all faults in myself and many in others. Still not a single warm memory. The hopeful horizon never came.

*click*

*thud*