Green Room II
I arrived home and took a good look at my room. Ugh. Like my head, it was a mess; soiled clothing strewn everywhere, stinking the place; a reefer butt in the ashtray, left over from a week ago. I tidied the place, then laid on top of the bed where I slept until 5 that afternoon. I felt weak.
Once awake, I swam in the pool in the hope of being refreshed. No, G, I'm not Kyle; I wear Speedos. After swimming as strongly as I could, I was drained. Bob's phone rang several times before it was finally answered. His breathing was heavy, so I assumed he was involved in a steamy sex session. "Hey, is it cool?" I asked.
"Can't speak now."
Hahahaha! He breathed so hard he couldn't speak properly. He sounded like an asthmatic. "I won't put the phone down until you tell me."
"Shhhh! He's HOT! Aaagggghhhhh!" The phone fell silent for about two minutes, but I heard telltale noises in the background. "That was bad timing," he complained upon his return. "You have no sense of right or wrong, Stuart."
"I need some weed."
"I'll swap you for the crack in your closet."
"No. Not yet. I'm not ready."
After a relatively good night's sleep, and only one nightmare, I wandered into the kitchen where my mom fixed breakfast for my dad. I hugged her. "That's for making breakfast for me too," I explained. So she did: bacon, eggs, tomato and mushrooms. Mmmmm!
On the patio overlooking the pool, I ate, still clad only in boxers. My dad, unimpressed, gave me the hairy eyeball. I ignored him as he did me.
In my room, I studied my reflection in the mirror and saw an image that resembled a refugee from a concentration camp. I'd lost much weight, and had bruises all over. My face was a wreck, and I noted a large bruise on my ribs. I had no idea of the cause. Then I saw scratches on my back. Another mystery. There was also a bruise on my ass, and, no, I couldn't fathom that either. For the first time, I realized the extent to which I'd deteriorated. It was no surprise as to why everyone gave me such a wide berth.
I popped some Bs and Cs, then stuffed around in the gym. I phoned Fremantle but Brett but was out. Fingers answered. He didn't speak for long because his girlfriend was there. Hahahahaha! But he managed to whisper that he was madly in love with me, and asked when I would next visit Fremantle. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He really is so damn cool, though.
Phoned Melanie. "Don't put the phone down! I'm just saying hello." I heard a voice in the background. "Who's there?"
"What, like just visiting?"
"It's a long story, Stuart. And I'm not in the mood to get into that with you right now."
"Hahahaha! You and he going out together now?"
"It's got fuck all to do with you, Stuart."
"Chill, babes. Does he know you're talking to me?"
"I'm sure he does," she giggled.
"What's so funny, Melanie?"
"It's nothing. Look, I gotta go."
"Can I call you again sometime? My situation is improving."
"So I hear."
"Do you believe everything Graham told you about me?"
"That you beat up a kid on the beach half your size? Who's gonna believe that?"
"Did he tell you the whole story?"
Phoned Bob to ask about my stash. He immediately recognized my abruptness and understood I was in no mood to play games. He asked me to meet him outside, with the cash ready. He knew I was broke, so I borrowed some from my dad's wallet. Borrowed, G. I'll replace it when I get the cash, so don't stress.
It was good stuff. Rolled a big one and smoked it by the pool. Made my head spin because it had been a while.
Melanie and Graham? There's a combo made in hell. So why was I jealous all of a sudden? Jealous of Graham getting the girl, and jealous of the girl getting her hands on the little hunk. He was probably screwing her lights out.
Hey, Kyle, what do you think of that, huh? Do you see the smoke coming out of my ears? Well, fuck you! Maybe I should introduce Graham to Bob and get him into some bondage. Do I sound mad, G? Because I try to set things right, I get this little gnome who goes out of his way to screw every step I take. I can picture him and Melanie talking the greatest load of crap about me, and getting their jollies from it.
So where did all this shit start? It can't be due to that one time he was trashed at my house. No way. It's not like I raped him. He had a thing for me when he first met me. Oh, sorry, G. I keep forgetting that Graham is a hero too. Him and Brett. I bow before the heroes of this world. Maybe I should join their fan club.
By the way, you haven't written lately, G. Are you ignoring me? Am I too gross for you to handle?
I was such a good little nerd in school today. Bob wants his crack back, or payment. I told him he could rent me for the night. He's not getting it back.
(I was wrong about G. His mail wasn't getting through for some reason so he forwarded his most recent. I wrote to let him know I received it).
As to Graham, don't hold your breath, G. I'm beginning to regret ever meeting Kyle, not because he was Kyle, hell, I loved him more than I dare say. It's because of what I have now; Graham and Kyle's bitch girlfriend Melanie. The only genuine person in this whole fucking plot is Brett.
By the way, G, I don't want it suggested that I meet up with anyone in Byron. It's like Mr. T said, I live in a dingy world of fucked-up nothing right now. I'm fighting for air, and I need to get out of this shit by myself.
Next day: G'day, G. Sleeping right through now. Supper tomorrow night at Kyle's. I owe his folks, especially after speaking to Mr. T in the surf. He was pretty cool towards me. Bob and I will skip school Friday. He accepted my offer to pay him my way, and asked if I was prepared to `do anything he liked' with me. Can't be worse than whatever else that's happened to me, and everyone wanting fuckall to do with me.
I phoned Melanie again last night, just to speak--a bit of friendly chit chat. But the convo turned sour and I cussed and became hysterical. She held the phone away from her ear, then asked if I was quite finished. She summed up pretty much everything about me, a waste of human flesh. She couldn't give a damn if I OD'd. Another hero fan. I'm thinking what's the use of everything at the moment? At least the coke I used to take kept me sane.
At the beach yesterday, all the grommet bastards were in the surf. I returned home. That is sooooooo un-fucking-cool. I no longer think I love Graham. It's a lust thing. To hell with the heroes. I'm in such a fucked up aggressive mood. If anyone at school gives me lip, I'll knock his head off his shoulders.
You need me, G? You want me to live up to your expectations? Thanks for the pressure. Truth? I bought some H and a couple of lines of coke direct from the dealers. Bob would never sell it to me. Don't ask how I paid for it. Plan? The plan was to shoot myself up with so much shit and sleep--just sleep--and the pain and hurt would go away. So why don't I do it right now? I owe Kyle. I owe him for giving me his love and nothing else. He didn't spend his money on me, he spent his emotions on me. And now you're doing the same fucking thing. What am I supposed to do with you, huh? As much as I piss on your battery you come back for more!
How long will I write you? I don't know. When I exhaust my will to write and no longer feel the need to confide in anyone, I'll take a break. You'll know when that happens. Don't go all paranoid on me. When the time comes that I've absolutely had enough, I'll let you know that too--not because I want to cause you pain, but to make you understand. You don't know me, G. You try to outguess me and predict my path ahead. What Melanie said is true. What did Kyle see in me? Fuck knows. I've searched.
Tomorrow night will be painful; seeing Kyle's room again--trying to live up to a responsibility I can't handle. I didn't want the job, remember! Melanie and Graham are doing their own thing now, whatever that is.
Do you have any idea how hard this is, G? It's a copout, right? Not quite what you expected, I reckon. There's grease on the ladder that leads to the top of the pedestal, G. Sorry.
Smile, G. I haven't slit my wrists yet.
I hope Mr. T says or does something to change your current attitude. Maybe you prefer your own dad, he doesn't expect anything of you.
You did amazing things in Fremantle. You won both Fingers' and Brett's hearts and respect. You returned home and continued to do amazing things. And now you're telling me that the price you're willing to pay for H and crack is humiliation from Bob?
I believe the good in you can prevail if you keep trying, if you summon the will to win. Read the chapters about your trip to Fremantle. The proof of your ability to make the necessary changes is right there, staring you in the face.
You're angry, and I don't blame you. I'd be angry too if I woke in my own puke and mess. You're not angry at me, Stuart, you're angry at yourself, and you're taking it out on everyone else. That anger will be returned. Not from me, though, I'm old enough to understand that anger is a waste of time and energy, and is pointless. I'm not angry at you.
You've all but told me to piss off, to get out of your life. If that's what you want, I accept it. Until then, or if you manage to convince me that you're willing to allow evil to take control of your life, I'll hang in there. And I hope Kyle does the same for all our sakes.
So, you catch me with these mails before school? So the G battery is well and truly pissed? Cool. I wondered when that would happen. Didn't think it was possible to make you mad. Here's the deal. If you stop connecting with me, I will be off this fucking planet in a jizz shot. Right now, there's nobody else I can talk to. And if you can't handle what I'm dealing with here, you can fuck off.
I'm sorry for the way I feel. I can't change that. But I'm telling you this, if you split, then that's the last link with Kyle I have to keep me going. Don't feel guilty about anything, G, you kept me going this far. I knew what was waiting for me when I returned from Fremantle. I got off lightly, and I don't think it's the end of it yet.
I'll be at Kyle's tonight to see if there's anything left for me, G. If you believe I'm on the road to nowhere, that confirms everything I've written. Tell me, if you want to drop my story, then fuck off. My fingers have been glued to this keyboard, hoping for something, anything inside my soul, to keep me going.
I'm late for school now because I just read the whole Fremantle story. You did a good job. Brought back memories of Fingers and what a cool time we had. Oh, fuck, let me go to school. It's not up to me, G. Sorry I'm so fucked up right now, and if you can't handle it, I'll understand. No one else can handle me either.