Jeremy was worried. The man was sitting right across him. The man had been looking right at him for the last half an hour. Every time Jeremy looked up, the man scowled at him. Jeremy glared back. He was at this swanky nightclub with friends. It was a friend’s birthday. It was his first time at a nightclub and he did not want to spoil it by getting into a fight. The friends were new. Jeremy was just two months into his first year in college. Everyone around him was new.
The music throbbed. Jeremy could hear it thud through his chest. He felt his heart pounding to the music. This was fun. Jeremy could never afford to get into a place like this by himself.
The man was scowling at him again. The man was running his fingers through his sideburns. Jeremy could feel the sweat on his sideburns. He was sweating but yet he felt cold. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed with the odor of sweat, room freshener, cheap perfume and stale food. An assault to the senses. Yet exhilarating. Strange places, these nightclubs.
Mother had told him not to go. No wonder.
Jeremy had lost his father when he was thirteen. Jeremy’s father had married late. His mother much too young for his father. Much too young to become a widow.
She brought him up teaching kindergarten at a local school. They never had much. They had each other. They had enough. Jeremy had to do well. He was his mother’s last hope. Jeremy excelled at school. Jeremy got a scholarship. Jeremy got admission into the swanky college.
Jeremy looked at him again. The man was glaring now. Jeremy glared back. The man looked familiar. He looked like his father. No. He thought he looked like his father. Very peculiar similarities. But then the bastard was dead. The old bastard was dead.
“I will kill the bastard if he looks at me again” thought Jeremy and looked up again. The man was still scowling, a strange look on his face. Jeremy thought he saw a half smile. A sinister, sarcastic half smile.
Jeremy’s blood boiled. Jeremy stood up. The man stood up as well. This was going to be a fight. A full blown bloody fight. Jeremy had never fought before. Mother had told him not to. Jeremy was his mothers only hope. Mother was protective. Mother loved him. Jeremy could never afford to get into a fight. Jeremy never got into a fight. Until now.
The bastard looked like his father. His fucking father. His old fucking father who fucked his mother’s life. Jeremy had enough of his father. Jeremy had enough of his mother‘s wailing about how her family destroyed her life by getting her married to an old man. “Lets get this done and dusted with, you fucking son of a bitch. I want to fuck you motherfucker. I want to fuck you till you die motherfucker. Come get me motherfucker”.
This was it. The man rushed at Jeremy. Jeremy had never been in a fight before. There was something in the mans hand. Something rolled up. “Fight back” Jeremy told himself. “Fight the bastard and finish him. Do it for mother”
But Jeremy felt weak. He felt the music pounding inside his rib cage. The lights were blinding him. “I am scared” thought Jeremy. “I don’t want to die”.
The man was nearly upon Jeremy. Jeremy found himself frozen. His legs wouldn’t move. He raised his hands to cover his face. The man was now upon him. He shoved the thing from his hand into Jeremy’s nose. It felt like paper. The man’s face an inch away from Jeremy’s. Jeremy pushed the man away but it was too late. He felt something run up his nasal cavity. He felt it in his head. He felt his brain explode into many different colors.
Beautiful colors. Beautiful colors in formation. Beautiful colors forming shapes he never knew before. Beautiful colors never seen before. Beautiful colors running riot. Beautiful colors alight. Beautiful colors in the sky. Beautiful colors making love. Beautiful colors… orgasmic passion. Beautiful colors of God. Beautiful colors are God.
Something. Something happened. Something happened again. His brain coming together. His colorful brain coming together. Another explosion. His brain exploded. No stupid. The colors exploded. No. Wasn’t the colors. Something else. FUCK
Jeremy could see again. He could see the man’s face now. The man was looking at him. He wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t smiling. Was he crying? Jeremy’s vision was getting clearer. The man was crying. Blood dripping from his nose, forming a little stream from the nose to the lips and then dropping to the floor in the form of little red raindrops. Jeremy could hear the sound of the little red raindrops hit the floor. Pitter Patter rain drops. Sound amplified.
Jeremy’s vision was getting clearer. The man looked so much like his father. No. Wait. The man did not look like his father. The man was not his father. He realized. He finally knew. It was him. It was him all along. He had done it. It was him all along. He knew now. He realized. Mother was right. Mother loved me. He wanted to cry. He tried to cry. He couldn’t cry
He couldn’t cry. Something exploded in his brain again. He could see all the colours exploding again. This time exploding outside in and forming a rotating blob of red. The blob was moving. It was moving down his brain. No. It was not moving. It was spreading. He could feel the blob move into his eyes blocking his vision. The blob changed color. The blob was black. It moved into his nose. Christ… He can’t breathe…. It’s in his mouth now… turning his tongue down his throat. His tongue is in his throat…choking him. Its moving again… the blob is in his vertebral column…. he is numb now. Shit… it’s in his chest too… moving faster… gushing in… Oh… this is soothing… calming… he likes the blob in his chest… he can feel the throbbing of the music slow down…. he is getting better…. The throbbing is really slow now… slower… slower…. It’s so peaceful…. Its gonna be fine… he wants to sing… black is a beautiful color… slower… Jesus… Jesus is black… Jesus is slow…
The throbbing is slower…Jesus is slower…slower…slower… slow… slo… sl… s.. ss… sss… ssss…. sssss…. sssssss…. sssssss.. sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Silence. Peace
Mother walked in silence. She walked up the stairs. This was the second time she walked up those stairs.
She walked up the stairs the first time to collect the body of her husband. This time..... She broke down. Jeremy loved mother. Mother loved Jeremy. He was her only hope.
And he was lost. Lost Forever. To drugs. His first time….. his own choice…and his last breath.
25 comments:
@Zilionbig... Thanks for the encouragement mate.. first attempt at writing fiction... Was dreading feedback... this helped... can breathe now...
Nice story, a bit long and my mind wandered off in the middle, but still nice..
Guess who's the rambler now... thanks for the feedback buddy... will try and keep things shorter going forward..
ooh. very nice. you had me fooled. i thought it was going some place else. write more, write more.
Aha! A story teller! Very very well worded! :)
@ Agent... Thats what I tried to do... guess you are the only one who fell for it... still... one is better than none... and you never let me down... thank you :-)
@ Kadambari... Thank you for the kind words... as I commented earlier... my first attempt... hopefully... I get a little better...
hey, that was really something! how does things like it creep in your creative mind man, it just makes me wonder.
nice story man...
and thanks for adding me to your bloglist.
Glad you liked it Hemal.... and dont have to thank me for adding you the blog list chief... I like what you write...
You've been tagged... http://xpressive-silence.blogspot.com/2009/05/10-things-about-me-tag.html
its excellent Mr.story teller...u write so well..waiting for ur next story..keep writing exclusive stuff..keep blogging..take care..
Very impressive - I never read anything this long. YOu captivated my imagination. Great imagery. I am jealous.
@Dreaming Eyes... thank You... I need the encouragement... Will try and cook up more things to write about..
@Grayquill... you made my day mate... thank you... Was just reading your blog... hopefully the image you have of me is that of a dog... a roaming meanderer... :-)
Very Good one ! You are a professional.
Something you can use - try to avoid same words or construction very close in a story.Makes it sound repetitive.
I do the same mistake once I am in the flow .....
Aahang... nowhere close to being a professional mate... and thank you for the feedback... really do appreciate it...
Wow. Really! You can write a book..no wait a collection of short stories! It will be a hit :)
Thank you Choco...
Wow!! You are indeed a storyteller. The end was really a surprise.
One thing, avoid using names for every sentence. Otherwise wonderful!! keep writing :)
@ Megha...
Thank you for visiting megha... was trying to write a little differently... that is why there are those repetitions...
But thank you for the feedback... please read the other story too... The sweet taste of salt...
/respect\
brilliant storyline, gripping narrative, and a kick-ass delivery.
was held captive right from the first line,
and if there were flaws, i didnt see them.
again, brilliant.
and i can wait to read more like this one and 'sweet taste of salt'
loved both of them
even if that means you write only once a month write more like this!
@ Meghana
Thank You. You made my day. Appreciate the encouragement...
Beautiful colors in the sky. Beautiful colors making love. Beautiful colors… orgasmic passion.- beautiful narrative...such a rich casket of wonders.
it is also beautifully written, shcoking and moving!
ps-too many jeremies there!:)
@ Manisha and Jeremies...
Was trying to write a little differently... didn't work out the way I intended it to... sometimes I am tempted to re-write...
Oh wow.. I like the flow, how you insert all those mommy love Jeremy thing in between. And the ending blows me off, unexpected, like many of your short stories. I'm hooked!
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