I think often, some would think this would be a great idea while others like myself wish it would stop. Some memories are great like a hammock and a Jamaica sunset; while others are like the one I’m about to tell you.
Age doesn’t really matter here but to tell you kind of puts an umph on the impact that it has had on my mind, on my childhood. I was 14 and you know when you’re a teenager your whole goal is to be as fast as the wind, as powerful as the ocean. There was a hill in my neighborhood that was humongous, to ride a bike down it and reach the bottom was like starting out like a snail but ending up going mock 3 and that was the purpose to go as fast as you could, to be as fast as the wind of a hurricane. Except on this day, somehow half way through I lost control, fell off the seat of the bike and landed on the bar of the frame, my knees were now dragging on the street and the pain was like blue flame going through my body, god it hurt so bad but I just wouldn’t stop. I did stop though, at the bottom. I stopped by hitting a car that was going down the street. I wasn’t hurt by hitting the car and just as soon as I stopped I got up and ran home.
I don’t know what I was expecting at home but it sure wasn’t what I got when I walked through the door. I had blood pouring out of my knees and tears streaming out of my eyes just as fast. I was frightened and in pain, a physical pain that I had never knew existed. I never expected that my mother would scream at me that I was so stupid for leaving my bike up at the hill and that blood was going all over the carpet. I never expected that she would grab me by the arm and drag me into the bathroom, screaming at me the whole time that she was sick of my shit and to get my ass cleaned up NOW! And I certainly never expected that when the driver of the car knocked on the door not to bitch about the scratch in the car door but to find out if this skinny, sad, painful looking little girl was okay. that my mother would smack me in the back of my head and yell for me to go to my room and not come out for dinner because I was getting none.
I went to my room shocked and still bleeding because even at 14 I still had no clue how to fix my knees but I was resourceful and figured it out. As I sat on my bed, still in blue flame pain, I realized that this was all there was to life, pain whether it was physical or emotional it was all life was going to be. That night I took a bottle of my Dad’s whiskey, a six-pack of beer, went out my window and to a house I knew that was abandoned. We, the stupid, pitiful, good for nothing teenagers, went there to get drunk, smoke pot and do whatever else. That night I tripped off LSD, drank whiskey, a six-pack of beer and had sex with two of my guy friends. That night, nothing hurt, nobody called me stupid, and I didn’t have to think.