Everything Burns
I was enshrouded in total darkness. Though the brightness of the day had made it a day for swimming, sweat-drenched sport and the activities of children out of school enjoying a carefree summer, I laid in a darkened room in one of the deepest slumbers, untouched by nightmares. The foil on the bedroom's only window kept the dreaded rays of unforgiving Louisiana sunlight away from me and, for a moment that stretched for long hours, I laid there, unaware, untouched.
I was safe there, of this I'm certain.
"Is he okay?" a voice asked.
"He's cold," another responded. I felt someone's fingertips on my hand. I must have been awakening by then.
"Mom said he was sick," a younger voice added with a worried tone.
"Oh shit," one of them whispered, "Is he even breathing?"
My eyes slowly opened, my brain working like the indestructible black box recording device installed in all aircraft today, recording every piece of information to be contemplated and understood later. The hall and bathroom lights had been switched on, providing the only light in the room. The faces of two teenage twins and their little brother were staring at me. All of them breathed and looked at me in what I've concluded to be a mixture of fright and relief.
I remember. I had been sick that morning. The night before as well. I'd been running too hard, too heavy and my body was paying dearly for it. It was then that I concluded that I was getting too old for this shit. Maybe not in body, but in essence. Even though the day had been hot, I was freezing. It was like a morgue in that bedroom and I'd just scared the hell out of three kids.
"What time is it?" I asked, still trying to shake the cobwebs and adjust my eyes to the light.
"Dude! It's eight-thirty!" Kody answered, "You scared the shit out of us!"
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" I asked him. Talk about the pot and kettle.
"Not like you do," Jody answered.
"Ohh," I retorted, "That's fucked up, dude."
I'd been out since five in the morning, possibly longer. I'd needed to turn in early, but I couldn't remember much about the night before. The kids knew I never slept past three thirty in the afternoon. That was what raised the first red flag to them. The second was when my demon-roar snoring had ceased...for three hours. The third was when they had come home to notice I wasn't milling around the house, helping them out with whatever menial chores I could get away with doing as Cyndi didn't want me doing fuck all except cooking whenever I could. When all of these factors combined, they began to worry and then that was compounded when I wouldn't respond to them calling out for me, shaking me, or levelling nasty insults at me which I'm sure they didn't mean. When the effects of the arctic blast from the central air unit had been felt upon my tortured flesh (which can appear cold to the touch anyway) they were on the verge of panic.
I'd slept many days and nights in that house. I spent much of that summer there. There were times where I felt like a dad to those kids.
Tyler, the youngest of the three, had chosen to spend much of his free time around me. When he wanted to spend it with friends, he wanted me to tag along. I was more than happy to accomodate him. At nearly ten years old, he'd come up hard. Having no father around didn't help his situation, socially speaking. Tyler had had a corrective surgery (more would follow) on a cleft pallette with which he had been born. Aside form the small scar and sometimes coming out of school with another fight under his belt from some punk-ass bastard kid who decided to step into the realm of stupidity by cruelly teasing him about it, he was as normal as any other child his age.
Kody and Jody were the twins. While all three were active in one sport or another, Kody and Jody pursued sports like crazy. Jody seemed to bear a great weight on his shoulders, figuratively speaking. He was the introvert and never was much for being outgoing. I never told him but, to me, I found a real kindred spirit with him. Jody was the jokester and the extrovert. He was as much of a typical teenager as you could get. He'd run at life head-on making jokes about it all the while.
Back then, I hung out with them, braving the daylight and heat in favor of running them where they needed to go when their mom was at work, tossing around a football with them, eating popsicles and even cooking dinner sometimes when their mom was going to be late in getting home from work. Through all of this domestication, I found simplicity. I ended each day feeling as though I had accomplished something. It was both sanctuary from all the evil of which I was still unaware had beset me and their mother and it was home.
I guess, in some small way, for a short period of time, I found something as close to happiness as I'd had in years up until that point.
Unfortunately, it ended. Abruptly so. Imagine going for that cruise on an open highway in the world's fastest sports car and then a wall pops up. CRASH! ...and burn.
When it was over, I was back where I started only with things much worse than I could have ever imagined. Something Terrible was now face-to-force with me and had been for a very long time. The pieces to the puzzle weren't hard to put together.
Sometimes, evil can be fought with good but this type, I thought, was time for the tried-and-true method of fighting fire with fire. I had to reach deeply within myself and pull it to the surface. It was the core of my indifference, anger, hatred and the cold, uncaring desire for revenge. I used it. I became one with it and I fought back without mercy or compassion and with reckless abandon. That singular journey to take revenge on what separated me from a life that I'd only dreamed of being a part of was underway and with such hatred behind it, that it seemed to be the only purity that I'd experienced since then and it cost me more than any monetary amount placed on anything anywhere in the world. I met a part of myself during those dark times that I'd hated but felt I'd needed.
I could elaborate on that piece of the story but no one would believe it. All I'll say is that this wasn't physical in terms of a fight. This was warfare on a different plane altogether, a spiritual one and I was giving in to something malevolent. Some of you who have read my posts probably doubt that I'm capable of evil. I can tell you in all seriousness than I am. Each day I look in the mirror, si still see remains of that entity looking back at me. It was a part of me that was cold, heartless and empty except when it came to vengeance. It took over for nearly a year. I'm still unsure to this day how much destruction it caused and I'm not sure I wish to know.
That thing still sees me at times. I know this because I still see it.
Now, I look out my window and I see the wonderful moments in which I took part. The summer of 2004 was a great time to be alive. Nothing could touch me then. Nothing could change me then with the exception of a change for the better. The music was upbeat and lively and I could get lost in every moment of it. I'm almost certain that if I'd been left to it, I probably wouldn't be so cynical today. Then, I wasn't looking to be a social philosopher. I wasn't angry. I was blissfully unaware of the horrid realities of this insane world.
If I look out that window, I can still see the vast expanse of that beautiful wave and smell the rush of what riding it was like before a tempest ravaged it. I was riding the wave of being in love with life and the thrill of being part of something that mattered.
Now, when I look out that window, if I look in the right direction, I can see where that beautiful wave crested and broke in the face of it's stark interruption.
I still wonder where, if anywhere at all, I'm going. I still wonder what happens next. I still wonder if the wolf I fed still has strength enough to overcome me. I wonder all of this each day...and it scares the hell out of me.
Still, I keep in mind that, through all of that loss, there's still a world of difference to make somewhere. If I make a difference in any part of it, then I'll retire once more, enshrouded by darkness, untouched by nightmares, lying in such deep slumber, knowing the wolf I fed had starved to death and I'll find sanctuary once again.
-Damien Cross
DeQuincy, Louisiana
2:49 a.m. Central
"...and she screams
'til everything burns
everyone screams
burning their lives
burning my dreams
and all of his hate
and all of his pain
burn it all down
as my anger reigns
til everything burns"
Ben Moody feat. Anastacia "Everything Burns"
I was safe there, of this I'm certain.
"Is he okay?" a voice asked.
"He's cold," another responded. I felt someone's fingertips on my hand. I must have been awakening by then.
"Mom said he was sick," a younger voice added with a worried tone.
"Oh shit," one of them whispered, "Is he even breathing?"
My eyes slowly opened, my brain working like the indestructible black box recording device installed in all aircraft today, recording every piece of information to be contemplated and understood later. The hall and bathroom lights had been switched on, providing the only light in the room. The faces of two teenage twins and their little brother were staring at me. All of them breathed and looked at me in what I've concluded to be a mixture of fright and relief.
I remember. I had been sick that morning. The night before as well. I'd been running too hard, too heavy and my body was paying dearly for it. It was then that I concluded that I was getting too old for this shit. Maybe not in body, but in essence. Even though the day had been hot, I was freezing. It was like a morgue in that bedroom and I'd just scared the hell out of three kids.
"What time is it?" I asked, still trying to shake the cobwebs and adjust my eyes to the light.
"Dude! It's eight-thirty!" Kody answered, "You scared the shit out of us!"
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" I asked him. Talk about the pot and kettle.
"Not like you do," Jody answered.
"Ohh," I retorted, "That's fucked up, dude."
I'd been out since five in the morning, possibly longer. I'd needed to turn in early, but I couldn't remember much about the night before. The kids knew I never slept past three thirty in the afternoon. That was what raised the first red flag to them. The second was when my demon-roar snoring had ceased...for three hours. The third was when they had come home to notice I wasn't milling around the house, helping them out with whatever menial chores I could get away with doing as Cyndi didn't want me doing fuck all except cooking whenever I could. When all of these factors combined, they began to worry and then that was compounded when I wouldn't respond to them calling out for me, shaking me, or levelling nasty insults at me which I'm sure they didn't mean. When the effects of the arctic blast from the central air unit had been felt upon my tortured flesh (which can appear cold to the touch anyway) they were on the verge of panic.
I'd slept many days and nights in that house. I spent much of that summer there. There were times where I felt like a dad to those kids.
Tyler, the youngest of the three, had chosen to spend much of his free time around me. When he wanted to spend it with friends, he wanted me to tag along. I was more than happy to accomodate him. At nearly ten years old, he'd come up hard. Having no father around didn't help his situation, socially speaking. Tyler had had a corrective surgery (more would follow) on a cleft pallette with which he had been born. Aside form the small scar and sometimes coming out of school with another fight under his belt from some punk-ass bastard kid who decided to step into the realm of stupidity by cruelly teasing him about it, he was as normal as any other child his age.
Kody and Jody were the twins. While all three were active in one sport or another, Kody and Jody pursued sports like crazy. Jody seemed to bear a great weight on his shoulders, figuratively speaking. He was the introvert and never was much for being outgoing. I never told him but, to me, I found a real kindred spirit with him. Jody was the jokester and the extrovert. He was as much of a typical teenager as you could get. He'd run at life head-on making jokes about it all the while.
Back then, I hung out with them, braving the daylight and heat in favor of running them where they needed to go when their mom was at work, tossing around a football with them, eating popsicles and even cooking dinner sometimes when their mom was going to be late in getting home from work. Through all of this domestication, I found simplicity. I ended each day feeling as though I had accomplished something. It was both sanctuary from all the evil of which I was still unaware had beset me and their mother and it was home.
I guess, in some small way, for a short period of time, I found something as close to happiness as I'd had in years up until that point.
Unfortunately, it ended. Abruptly so. Imagine going for that cruise on an open highway in the world's fastest sports car and then a wall pops up. CRASH! ...and burn.
When it was over, I was back where I started only with things much worse than I could have ever imagined. Something Terrible was now face-to-force with me and had been for a very long time. The pieces to the puzzle weren't hard to put together.
Sometimes, evil can be fought with good but this type, I thought, was time for the tried-and-true method of fighting fire with fire. I had to reach deeply within myself and pull it to the surface. It was the core of my indifference, anger, hatred and the cold, uncaring desire for revenge. I used it. I became one with it and I fought back without mercy or compassion and with reckless abandon. That singular journey to take revenge on what separated me from a life that I'd only dreamed of being a part of was underway and with such hatred behind it, that it seemed to be the only purity that I'd experienced since then and it cost me more than any monetary amount placed on anything anywhere in the world. I met a part of myself during those dark times that I'd hated but felt I'd needed.
I could elaborate on that piece of the story but no one would believe it. All I'll say is that this wasn't physical in terms of a fight. This was warfare on a different plane altogether, a spiritual one and I was giving in to something malevolent. Some of you who have read my posts probably doubt that I'm capable of evil. I can tell you in all seriousness than I am. Each day I look in the mirror, si still see remains of that entity looking back at me. It was a part of me that was cold, heartless and empty except when it came to vengeance. It took over for nearly a year. I'm still unsure to this day how much destruction it caused and I'm not sure I wish to know.
That thing still sees me at times. I know this because I still see it.
Now, I look out my window and I see the wonderful moments in which I took part. The summer of 2004 was a great time to be alive. Nothing could touch me then. Nothing could change me then with the exception of a change for the better. The music was upbeat and lively and I could get lost in every moment of it. I'm almost certain that if I'd been left to it, I probably wouldn't be so cynical today. Then, I wasn't looking to be a social philosopher. I wasn't angry. I was blissfully unaware of the horrid realities of this insane world.
If I look out that window, I can still see the vast expanse of that beautiful wave and smell the rush of what riding it was like before a tempest ravaged it. I was riding the wave of being in love with life and the thrill of being part of something that mattered.
Now, when I look out that window, if I look in the right direction, I can see where that beautiful wave crested and broke in the face of it's stark interruption.
I still wonder where, if anywhere at all, I'm going. I still wonder what happens next. I still wonder if the wolf I fed still has strength enough to overcome me. I wonder all of this each day...and it scares the hell out of me.
Still, I keep in mind that, through all of that loss, there's still a world of difference to make somewhere. If I make a difference in any part of it, then I'll retire once more, enshrouded by darkness, untouched by nightmares, lying in such deep slumber, knowing the wolf I fed had starved to death and I'll find sanctuary once again.
-Damien Cross
DeQuincy, Louisiana
2:49 a.m. Central
"...and she screams
'til everything burns
everyone screams
burning their lives
burning my dreams
and all of his hate
and all of his pain
burn it all down
as my anger reigns
til everything burns"
Ben Moody feat. Anastacia "Everything Burns"
posted by Lord Genocyde at 8:00 AM
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