"What the fuck? Jesus Christ." Lane shouted in disgust. His little self pitying outburst had cost him a thousand dollar suit and nearly the remaining pieces of his dignity. He sat up from the gutter, feeling cold street water run through his pants continuously. He was soaked to the bone from a night being passed out in the gutter outside of O'Harley's. It seemed as though he had never made it home, reaching a new low, even for himself. Some might even consider it rock bottom. Add a relapse, a break up, and a night of inebriation to his tally of fuck ups and mistakes.
Glancing down at himself, he notices something strange. Not only was the water somewhat blue, but blue paint covered his suit as well. On his right sleeve, a message was inscribed, "Jesus Christ, do something nice. Quit playing fool with your scotch - no ice." A nice, creepy rhyme, left from a stranger. Just what he needed to complete his morning. Well, morning is an exaggeration. 3:32 PM was the current time.
Lane got up and began to walk back to his apartment to clean up and put on something comfortable for once. Angel's words had really stuck to him, almost in a way that caused him to not desire to think at all. However, he did ponder the thought of running from Cocaine. He was sick of it, and sick of himself. Sick of wallowing around, and sick of digging himself a deeper and deeper trench filled with troubles and tribulations.
"Sell my company. Sell my company." He muttered. Maybe the only way to run was to throw away the rich lifestyle he had been living. Maybe being to poor to afford Cocaine could potentially aid in his cause. He walked past the orphanage, hosting some large event that he was uninterested in seeing. Well, not uninterested... He merely wanted to avoid humiliation when people took a glance at him.
"Tomorrow I can help there. Teach some kid not to make the same mistakes I have. Steer a kid in a better life direction than my own." He thought to himself.
During his walk, he passed the insane asylum, vaguely hearing someone singing.
"You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, well you just might find, you get what you need."
Lane instantly recognized the Rolling Stones classic, however, he couldn't locate the source of the sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of a body, right before it met his own. A blue man lay dead on the sidewalk in front of him, blood spilling everywhere.
"He killed himself! Oh my God! Oh my...." Lane screamed.
His vision turned slightly black, and immediately, he began to vomit everywhere. Blood covered his pants and shoes, and in shame, some of his own throw up went on the dead mans body.
"He literally just jumped. Jesus, right as I walk by. He literally just killed himself!"
Lane, in a flight or fight response, sprinted as fast as he could. Away from downtown, into the forrest on the outskirts of town. He ran as the thorns and brush cut his suit while multiple streams of vomit escaped his mouth. Tripping, he fell into a cool stream, sinking in its calming effect. If only he could have drowned. He lay there for a while, either in a state of numb emotionlessness or in state of mania followed by intense heart beats and breathing. Nothing could soothe his agony. A man had killed himself to fall 2 feet from where Lane had walked.
"It would be so easy. So easy. I could do it too. But I can't. I can't do it mommy, I can't." He wept in hysteria. He cried in the stream, but quickly got up as the water turned blue, covering himself yet again in a wave of paint.
Lane walked into the bar as people stared at him, complaining about not only his smell but abnormal and unnerving appearance. He sat down, Looked Rick the bartender in the face, and ordered the tallest scotch possible. As Rick reached up for the bottle, Lane noticed he was wearing a purple sock on one foot and a red sock on the other, as well as the tiniest dot of blue ink on his pressed black shirt.
"I swear I see you here four times a week pal." Rick said, judging Lane.
"Fuck off buddy. I just need my drink. Just need one. Please. Worst day of my life, today."
A woman sat down next to him, a very attractive one. She stared at him, possibly some of it was in pity. He could have impressed her with his looks normally, but not like this. She quickly scooted away as some of his blue paint touched her.
"Bad first impression, I know. I'm very sorry for my appearance... and smell."
She gave no response, indicating that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.
Lane drank four more glasses of scotch, and headed his way home. The whole town was covered in blue, and he noticed one woman staring at an inscription on a wall. She had the same crazed look on her face that he had when he watched a man hit the sidewalk, sprayed blood and chunks of blue all around him. He made it into his own apartment, showering and pouring himself one last drink before he was to sleep.
"I hope I don't awaken for days."
He secretly envied the suicidal man. How nice an eternal rest would be. Who cares if he went to hell. Isn't he already there? That would be an interesting theory.
"You have awoken, Lane." A voice whispered, cutting through the darkness.
Glancing down at himself, he notices something strange. Not only was the water somewhat blue, but blue paint covered his suit as well. On his right sleeve, a message was inscribed, "Jesus Christ, do something nice. Quit playing fool with your scotch - no ice." A nice, creepy rhyme, left from a stranger. Just what he needed to complete his morning. Well, morning is an exaggeration. 3:32 PM was the current time.
Lane got up and began to walk back to his apartment to clean up and put on something comfortable for once. Angel's words had really stuck to him, almost in a way that caused him to not desire to think at all. However, he did ponder the thought of running from Cocaine. He was sick of it, and sick of himself. Sick of wallowing around, and sick of digging himself a deeper and deeper trench filled with troubles and tribulations.
"Sell my company. Sell my company." He muttered. Maybe the only way to run was to throw away the rich lifestyle he had been living. Maybe being to poor to afford Cocaine could potentially aid in his cause. He walked past the orphanage, hosting some large event that he was uninterested in seeing. Well, not uninterested... He merely wanted to avoid humiliation when people took a glance at him.
"Tomorrow I can help there. Teach some kid not to make the same mistakes I have. Steer a kid in a better life direction than my own." He thought to himself.
During his walk, he passed the insane asylum, vaguely hearing someone singing.
"You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, well you just might find, you get what you need."
Lane instantly recognized the Rolling Stones classic, however, he couldn't locate the source of the sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of a body, right before it met his own. A blue man lay dead on the sidewalk in front of him, blood spilling everywhere.
"He killed himself! Oh my God! Oh my...." Lane screamed.
His vision turned slightly black, and immediately, he began to vomit everywhere. Blood covered his pants and shoes, and in shame, some of his own throw up went on the dead mans body.
"He literally just jumped. Jesus, right as I walk by. He literally just killed himself!"
Lane, in a flight or fight response, sprinted as fast as he could. Away from downtown, into the forrest on the outskirts of town. He ran as the thorns and brush cut his suit while multiple streams of vomit escaped his mouth. Tripping, he fell into a cool stream, sinking in its calming effect. If only he could have drowned. He lay there for a while, either in a state of numb emotionlessness or in state of mania followed by intense heart beats and breathing. Nothing could soothe his agony. A man had killed himself to fall 2 feet from where Lane had walked.
"It would be so easy. So easy. I could do it too. But I can't. I can't do it mommy, I can't." He wept in hysteria. He cried in the stream, but quickly got up as the water turned blue, covering himself yet again in a wave of paint.
Lane walked into the bar as people stared at him, complaining about not only his smell but abnormal and unnerving appearance. He sat down, Looked Rick the bartender in the face, and ordered the tallest scotch possible. As Rick reached up for the bottle, Lane noticed he was wearing a purple sock on one foot and a red sock on the other, as well as the tiniest dot of blue ink on his pressed black shirt.
"I swear I see you here four times a week pal." Rick said, judging Lane.
"Fuck off buddy. I just need my drink. Just need one. Please. Worst day of my life, today."
A woman sat down next to him, a very attractive one. She stared at him, possibly some of it was in pity. He could have impressed her with his looks normally, but not like this. She quickly scooted away as some of his blue paint touched her.
"Bad first impression, I know. I'm very sorry for my appearance... and smell."
She gave no response, indicating that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.
Lane drank four more glasses of scotch, and headed his way home. The whole town was covered in blue, and he noticed one woman staring at an inscription on a wall. She had the same crazed look on her face that he had when he watched a man hit the sidewalk, sprayed blood and chunks of blue all around him. He made it into his own apartment, showering and pouring himself one last drink before he was to sleep.
"I hope I don't awaken for days."
He secretly envied the suicidal man. How nice an eternal rest would be. Who cares if he went to hell. Isn't he already there? That would be an interesting theory.
"You have awoken, Lane." A voice whispered, cutting through the darkness.
Your character seems to be searching for love and approval. The obvious struggle is the decision between life/death. I like how you give a lot of backstory, provide great detail, and include most of the required things in the blog. I really like how you break the seriousness of your blog with little bits of comedy. This sentence stood out for me: "Then he watched it fall, and he watched it glitter. And he watched her smile." Since you don't have many in the present, you should expand on your past relationships. This will add to the reader's understanding of your character and his motivations.
ReplyDeleteYour character seems to be searching for love and approval. The obvious struggle is the decision between life/death. I like how you give a lot of backstory, provide great detail, and include most of the required things in the blog. I really like how you break the seriousness of your blog with little bits of comedy. This sentence stood out for me: "Then he watched it fall, and he watched it glitter. And he watched her smile." Since you don't have many in the present, you should expand on your past relationships. This will add to the reader's understanding of your character and his motivations.
ReplyDelete