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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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The Beating of my Bones
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For the last couple years, seven of them to be exact, I have felt this
emptiness. One that was describe in the last file I wrote. I mentioned
that I liked to inflict physical pain upon myself so that I could drown
out the sadness of my heart. Ever since I wrote that file my heart has
been as a thunderstorm. Here one second, gone the next, inconstant and
never ending. At one particular point, in which I shall now disclose, my
heart felt as nothing. My entire body, nothing.
So as I have done in the past I started physically abusing myself. First
came the liquor. Nothing smooth and refreshing, just straight tequila. It
didn't take too long before I was fucked up. The music was refreshing for
awhile. God, Mozart knows how to make an opera. As life, operas end. I
could have played another, but my bones just weren't into it.
It felt like I broke my hand. I certainly broke my refrigerator.
However it wasn't enough, I could see my hand turning red and it wasn't
enough. I wanted to feel pain as though I never have before. I wanted to
feel alive again. For the first time in seven years I wanted to prove that
I existed. I am not just some ghost that follows you to work every day. I
am not just some reflection in a mirror.
I left my house. I never lock the doors. If someone came in and robbed me
blind I wouldn't even report it to the police. At least I could say that
someone cared enough about the stuff I have to steal them. I am glad I am
not a materialistic person. Otherwise I might be upset if moonlight was gone
when I got back. Money is nothing, I could always buy another.
Since I don't have a car I just walked. Any normal person would not
extract such a task upon themselves in my neighborhood. I am just glad I
am not normal. I am glad I don't care. I picked the worst neighborhood to
live in for a reason. I can walk out of my house every morning and look
around to say "My god, I live in the slum of the world, and I am a part of
it." It makes me feel better.
Walking was a good idea because it didn't take long for what I was hoping
would happen to happen. A black low riding civic pulled up slowly behind
me. Just a bunch of silly punks looking for some action I imagine. So I
stopped walking. Turned around and played innocent.
"You guys lost."
"I don't think we're the ones lost fool."
It was going to happen, I could feel it. I saw that one of them had a gun,
there were three of them in all. Were they going to try and kill me? I was
looking for a fight, I was looking for someone to beat me to
unconscienceness. However I was not looking to die. No matter how much I
abstract myself from this world I still love it.
"I live in this neighborhood, right down the street. I am just going to
the gas station to get some smokes."
"You picked the wrong time to go to shopping tonight boy."
Boy? Did they call me boy?
"I AM NOT A FUCKING BOY!"
I ran for the person in front of the guy with the gun. I figured if he was
going to shot that thing it was going to be before I got to them, so if I
could put someone in between us his chances of hitting the right person
would be slim. Besides, he was probably drunk anyway.
I threw the person in front of me up against the guy with the gun. He
flew back against the car while I threw the guy in front of me onto the
ground. While the guy with the gun was trying to recover I was able to
kick his hand hard enough to dislodge the gun into someone's yard. Right
when I was about to punch him the third guy hit me in the back.
It didn't even hurt. I was a little shocked but not in pain. So I decided
to play along with it a little more. I wanted these men to beat me, but I
wanted them to do it with such vengeance that I would never forget it. I
wanted to give them a reason to do it.
I quickly spun around and hit him double fisted in the stomach and then
chopped him in the throat. It didn't take too long before the other two
guys had grabbed my arms. These men were weak. I twisted my arms to get a
better grip on them both and then threw myself back pulling them in front
of me. This did not have the desired effect I had hoped for. The plan was
to get them to smack heads and let go of me, but instead they just sort of
ran into each other and then pulled me up and wrapped my arms around my
back.
This is when the fun started. The third guy was very unhappy about not
being about to breath for a minute so he started punching me in the gut.
This is when I gave up. He must have punched me twenty times in my gut
before they let go of me so that I could throw up on the ground.
After that I can't really remember what happened. It seemed like the
beating lasted forever but it didn't. After not too long the person whose
house I was being beaten in front of came out with a gun and told those
guys to "Get the hell out of here." He helped me up. I told him that I was
ok, and that I only lived two blocks away and could make it home. He
escorted me anyway. Some people in this world aren't too bad.
My god, there was so much blood in the sink. I have never felt so happy,
so worthless in all my life. Finally, i am alive.
Tortured Soul
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