Demons Drinking In His Head

He was slumped over, the brass buckle coming to rest on the silver hair that covered his head.  The cracked wooden bar hung above a pile of shirts, stained with his blood from the failed attempt to cut deep enough.  The leather strap tied in a knot had broken in two from the strain, his dead weight pulling on it for days.  A black tee-shirt and grey gym shorts were all that covered him, as his body started to decompose, in the tiny closet of his small run down studio apartment.

He had been sober for over a year, a fact no one knew about until it was too late to tell him, “congratulations”.  The struggle with alcohol had been seen as a character defect in his ironically addicted filled family, with most of them cutting contact with him years ago.  He knew he was an alcoholic, and during that year of sobriety knew that one drink would be the start of the end.

His last year had been filled with  hope and a happy optimism for the chance to once again have the accomplishments he craved.  His ability to make something from nothing had been acquired from the success and many failures he had experienced in his 63 years.  Four years of struggling with homelessness and  a year of not drinking had changed his definition of what he considered success and what it meant to have it all.

No longer was a Porsche wanted, just anything that would get him to his destination. The dream of buying a condo with cash no longer mattered, just the peace of mind knowing his weekly rent was paid. Having enough quarters to wash the few clothes he owned had replaced the desire to pick from a sea of garments covered in plastic from the local dry cleaner.  The ability to pick up dinner from a hole in the wall Mexican food place once a week, would have been the icing on his chocolate cake.

Sadly, a summer that had started with such promise had turned into a fall with too many disappointments.  The many hurts, and too much suffering, had crushed his fight to “keep punching the bag “‘, as he liked to say.  The pain unbearable, he walked across the street, knowing the purchase he was about to make would be the beginning of his end.

Days following his first drink, had been filled with unsuccessful attempts to reach out to the family that had turn their backs.  E-mails written, never to be sent.  Phone calls made, never to be answered.  Misunderstandings clouded with stubbornness and greed would continue to linger, the guilt never to be lifted.  He would remain alone with the demons screaming in his head.

His heart had been kind and generous, always giving what he was able…money, time, advice, friendship, encouragement, laughter…He was loved greatly, and forever remembered by the ones he left behind.

Rest In Peace, My Beautiful Friend…

When you hear about the loss of someone’s beloved animal, you call or send a card.  Being at what can only be called a war with that person, and  anyone associated with him, makes sending a card a non-option.  As does an order of protection.  While your war will continue, you make a choice that for today,  you will remember his friend.  The one he sat with late at night sharing his thoughts.  The one that gave him comfort when no one else understood.  The one who was unconditional love.

My Friend

For today… you will give your anger and pain to God…

For today… you will say a prayer for peace and comfort in your enemies loss…

For today… you will remember his friend…

May you be running free, across sunny fields of green…

With the warmth of heaven taking away your pain…

Know that you were loved, and will be missed by many…

Until we met again…rest in peace, my beautiful friend…

Child To Throw F-Bombs-Close Your Eyes Assholes

Today will mark the 100th day that we have been “on the run” from family who have lost their minds.  This is what they are saying with their loving actions….

“Sorry, Dear, you are guilty of theft, period.  We will not ask you anything about your guilt directly.  We will only speak through emails.  We will tell anyone that may give you a word of encouragement that you are a piece of shit that deserves nothing.  And now that we have reached 100 days, we will be forwarding out a three-month old email,  trying to prove that this entire FEST is all your fault.  We did nothing wrong.  We did not steal clothing and give it to Goodwill.  The JUDGE did that remember?”

“Of course, Dear, we read every thought you wrote, typed, or drew, and kept for 20 years. We had to steal something we knew for a fact you could not get back from us.  Here are your thoughts back dear…See, we cannot give them back.  However, we can and will share them with others…friends, family, police, courts, CPS, and anyone else we can think of.  We are so happy you are good with that! ”

“Oh, your son?  Well, we thought it would build his character for ALL of us to completely ignore him on Christmas. We wanted to show him exactly what kind of people we are. We spent the day with his sister, we had to make sure she got her gifts.  Oh, his sugar glider died?  I am sorry, we cannot ever acknowledge that.  We do not even see him. You allowed him to have a potty mouth in the email he sent out, and our eyes filled with our own blood blinding us for life.

For this 100th day, in recognition the death of the innocent sugar glider, “Shug Zoe”, mate of  “Shug Night”, I am posting that twelve-year old’s email as he sent it, potty mouth and all. I guarantee he has handled this shit storm better than the adults who dragged him into it.                                  IMG_0215MA19759833-0014

December 28, 2012

So, you screwed us once again. You know…. I’m starting to lose count of how many times you have just straight pissed me and my entire family off.  Come on what the hell did me or my family ever do to you prior to these events?  Nothing…Absolutely nothing.  You know, I don’t consider you family anymore, or anyone else in that bloody house.  Except “XXXX”, who I would consider a friend.

You are one fucking idiot, man.  By the way, who in the hell fucked with my father’s FX Light Saber?  That shit was sealed, and we got it only to find it open.  I am done being quiet now.  It’s time I gave my opinion on this stupid situation.  You tried to get into my mom’s safe, didn’t you?  By the way, the only way you could get into the Ford Explorer is… Guess what?…BREAKING AND ENTERING!

I am absolutely fed up with your bullshit.  I hate you with a passion, I guarantee you that.  Oh, and guess what happened, just today?….You know our sugar gliders?  Yeah, there WERE two of them…But guess what?  ONE OF THEM IS DEAD!  And you know it’s your damn fault.  If you didn’t drive us into this damn hotel, we would have been able to care for them properly, and they would have been fine.

All because of this lie XXXX said, you automatically, Hell, I would say INSTANTLY accepted as one-hundred percent correct without even asking us.  Nice job with the restraining order against my mother, but you didn’t get one on my dad or me.  That means we are allowed to go to the Explorer, and you can do nothing about it.  Because you can try to twist the law into your own vision and make it all happy for you and your family, but in the end you will pay.  You can think yourself a god, but once again, you will pay.

Nice talking to you, Asshole.

Not Sincerely,

The Twelve-Year Old

He Doesn’t Smile Anymore

She watched as he walked towards the door.  The look in his eyes told her the smile was forced. The joy he once felt had slipped away months ago.  It was as if the darkness had engulfed his spirit, leaving nothing.  He looked back, trying to give her a glimmer of hope. A small sign that everything would be okay, but he did not have the strength.

He was sitting in the same ragged chair that she had grown to hate. It was the same picture of despair she saw every morning.  She smiled at him while she put the leash on the dog. As she did every day, she asked if he would like to come with them. The answer was always the same.

She walked out as the morning sun was coming to light.  The breeze felt warm and comforting across her face. She let the dog off the leash and watched as he ran across the dew covered grass.  Tears came to her eyes as she thought about the last three years.

His eyes followed her as she walked out the door. He could  hear her laughter as the dog splashed into a puddle.   He closed his eyes trying to remember the last time they had laughed together.