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In The Beginning
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In The Beginning
The followup to "The Last Two Minutes of an Insane Man's Life", which takes the reader back to the beginning, retracing the steps to how he has a gun to his head.
I'm currently a College Student enrolled at Auburn University in Auburn, AL. I'm studying Political Science, but thinking of changing my major to English, or double majoring. I'm interested in computers, the outdoors and of course, writing. I read a lot instead of watching TV, because in truth there is nothing more of value to watch on TV anymore.
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (22)
A Conversation With God (Short Stories) Basically, its a short story with sort of a twisted view on the whole walking with god on the beach theme that you see around. I dunno, it was sort of one of those late night writes. Yeah, I'm an athe... [1,230 words]
A Gunslinger's Death Is Always Best (Short Stories) The Sixth in the Sierra Madre Stories, finally typed up for your enjoyment. [3,668 words] [Crime]
Chapter One: A Stiff Shot Of Southern Comfort (Novels) It's an idea I had for a novel, no title yet. No worries though, I'm sure I'll have something by chapter two. Enjoy! [1,314 words] [Literary Fiction]
Fireworks At Christmas (Short Stories) This is the fifth story in the continuing series called the Sierra Madre Stories. [3,274 words] [Literary Fiction]
Headboards And Tombstones (Short Stories) The fourth story in the Sierra Madre Series/Stories, this one is about the boyfriend mostly. Some backstory, some flashback. Hope everyone enjoys. [2,898 words] [Literary Fiction]
How To Read This Diatribe (Essays) The very beginning letter from myself to you about a new series of essays, stories, and miscellaneous things I'm writing about. [317 words] [Mind]
Last Two Minutes Of An Insane Man's Life (Short Stories) The story of a man who is insane and has his inner demons leave him after trying to commit suicide. It ends ironically, I guess. Note: Strong Language and some sexual content. Not safe for children's ... [914 words] [Literary Fiction]
No Longer A Smoking America (Essays) I wrote this paper for my college english comp class, and decided it was worthy enough to publish. Maybe. Anyhow, take it with a grain of salt folks, and if you see something you think is wrong, pleas... [1,483 words] [Mind]
Roundabout Love (Short Stories) The story of two people who shouldn't be able to fall in love, but came together. [1,187 words] [Drama]
Sail Away (Short Stories) An autobiographical story that ends with a point about the quest for the meaning of life, and what the meaning of life is to me, the author. [1,295 words]
Six Of Hearts (Essays) First Post in my 52 series of essays on how I dislike social websites like thefacebook.com, and my adventures in online dating. [654 words] [Mind]
Something About Good Decisions (Novels) Chapter two of something else I've been working on. Taking the last chapter's comments into view, I've decided to shift away from the whole "writer as a main character" theme to "who are those two guy... [2,322 words]
Southern Roadtrips- Part One (Novels) The Prologue and First Two chapters of a novella I'm writing called "Southern Roadtrips". At least, that's what I'm calling it right now. Characters and Stories are based on fact, but I've taken creat... [3,315 words] [Travel]
Southern Roadtrips-Chapter Four (Novels) This chapter, while describing a small portion of my time in Chattanooga, does better to describe my feelings about myself and my parent's divorce. [1,442 words] [Travel]
The Death Of Smith And Jones In Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The next story in the "Sierra Madre Stories" series in which describes the death of Smith and Jones, two of the four who are responsible for the death of Mary. It also includes an interesting anecdote... [3,072 words] [Literary Fiction]
The Family Of Four (Non-Fiction) For my friends at college. [1,014 words]
The First Joker In The Deck (Essays) This is an essay about my personal philosophy, or lack thereof. [1,098 words] [Mind]
The Four Of Clubs (Essays) Second part to the Four of Diamonds. It has been called "a bible." [2,726 words] [Mind]
The Four Of Diamonds (Essays) A bit of a rant about my generation's debt, prescription drugs, healthcare, and George W. Bush. Just read, I swear it's interesting. [1,963 words] [Mind]
The Man From Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The second in the "Sierra Madre Series" with more death and an interesting plot twist at the end. Or, at least I think it's interesting. [3,659 words] [Literary Fiction]
The Massacre Of Sierra Madre (Short Stories) The beginning of a series I'm calling "The Sierra Madre Stories", this is the first one in a long list of stories. It involves everyone's favorite subjects: Drugs, death and money. [3,637 words] [Literary Fiction]
Thinking About My Father (Short Stories) A Sort of Essay/Short Story about the relationship with my father. [979 words] [Literary Fiction]
In The Beginning
You’re probably wondering right now, how did this all happen. The suicide attempt, the insanity inside my head and the drinking and smoking. It’s all a funny story, that begins with my years in High School.
It has always been my position that High School sucked. And in my mind, it will always suck ass. No matter what you do, the people that you meet in High School are indeed some of the shittiest people that you can meet in the world. And I was going out with this real bitch, Julia. We’d been going out for two years, and I was eighteen. It was prom night, and I was sitting in my tuxedo in the limousine. It was parked on the curb outside of her house in the suburbs. And I was sitting there, early as usual. It seems that I was always early.
I got out of the limo, and walked up the sidewalk to her house. The driver waited outside. And then I rang her doorbell. Her mother answered, awkwardly. “Hi hon, come on in. We need to talk.”
Uh oh, I thought. I don’t like this already. Reluctantly, I went inside the house and sat down in the living room, in my shitty rental tuxedo. Her father was in the den downstairs watching television.
“I’ve got some bad news, hon.” Her mother was always straight to the point.
“If you’ve got bad news, just lay it out on the line.”
“Well, Julia sort of left…”
“What do you mean, ‘sort of left’?” I said it with a little bit of cynicism in my voice, but it was understandable. Her mother, while curt and to the point, was understanding.
“She left with another boy, Joseph Hawkins. You know him.”
Of course I knew Joseph. Joseph and I were best friends up until I started dating Julia. He had always had a huge crush on Julia.
The only response I had to this was typical. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry I’m the one to have to tell you this.”
“It’s okay Mrs. Gorgiliano.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“Not really for a while, but I’m going home.”
“You need to talk for a minute?”
“I appreciate it ma’am, but no.”
I did the only thing I knew to do, and that was to leave her house. So I left. And then I got back in the limo, told the driver to take me home. He drove. I told him I was borrowing something from the mini bar. He didn’t really give a fuck.
“Bad news son?” the driver asked, politely.
“Yeah, I just found out my girlfriend dumped me for an asshole.”
“Fuck man. That blows real hard. Especially on prom night.”
“You’re telling me man.”
We pulled up to the house, and I drowned the rest of the whiskey I had poured. I got out of the back, and handed the driver a twenty and thanked him.
“Hey kid, are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“No. But at this point, it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”
“I guess not. Try to get some sleep kid. It’d help, I promise you that.”
“I appreciate it. But first, I’m going to get drunk.”
I walked up the path to my front door, inserted my key and unlocked the door. I found my sister, two years younger than me on the couch with her boyfriend, naked from the waist down and her shirt pulled up over her breasts. She was laying with her best friend, Kira. I was a bit taken aback by that, but walked past. They looked at me, and my sister asked with surprise “What the fuck are you doing back?”
As politely as I could, I told her to fuck off. I went upstairs to my room and then shut the door and locked it. And then, I got drunk. And in my drunken stupor, I decided to kill myself.
And so, I took a bottle of aspirin, finished off the bottle of Jack Daniels I had, and then laid down on my bed. My sister, now half dressed with her friend, came upstairs and knocked on my door. I didn’t answer. So, they picked the lock, and found me dazed. They also found the aspirin bottle and the whiskey bottle, both empty and made assumptions. Assumptions that proved to save my life. Damn my sister for that, damn her to hell.
So, because of this first botched suicide attempt, I was forced to see a therapist by my parents. Her name was Claudia.
Claudia was just out of medical school, and had joined a psychiatry practice downtown. They were all really nice people, especially Claudia. She sort of sympathized with me, since I told her the whole story of my life, and then began to tell me how to work out my problems. It was this sort of dream therapy, with Anti-depressants and sleeping pills added on, that would allow me to escape from the real world.
The way it worked was this. She told me to imagine my dreams as movies, myself sitting in a dark theater with surround sound blaring and a remote control in my hand. A digital theater, per se. You can make happen in your dreams what you want to if you treat them like a movie, with the cinematography, the script, everything. And then I would be able to change my dreams on the fly, to whatever was going through my mind at the time. And plus, I could pause them at any time, or stop them even. It helped with the depression, she said, if you can control what your subconscious shows you in your dream state.
And for a long time, it worked. And I’d been seeing Claudia for a while, when one day out of the blue she asked me, point blank if I’d ever had sex. I sat in her office, sort of stunned by the question. Not really sure how to answer.
“Well, no. I’ve done things, but I’ve never had sex.”
“Would you like to?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
Now I was getting a bit freaked out. This was way out of the Doctor-Patient privilege. My doctor was now coming onto me. And I really didn’t know what to do.
“Look, think of it as therapy. Sex can actually make things better, relieve tension and ease stress. It’s a good thing.”
“Well, when you say it like that…”
So, with me lying on the couch, the doctor came over and fucked me. Afterwards, she lay on top of me, tired and naked, enjoying just lying next to me.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” She said, in one of those kind of mothering tones.
“No, it was great in fact.”
“You want to do it again?”
“Not right now, I’m kind of sore.”
“Well, we can cure that…”
And so it went. This went on for a while. Year after year, making more and more sense. I went to the local university for engineering, so I could be close to her, and continue my therapy. My parents were happy to foot the bill for me to fuck my therapists brains out on a biweekly basis. They knew I was happy, was carefree, and that’s all that mattered.
And then one day, it began.
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© 2004 Kevin Myrick
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