i have recently given writing a shot. here is a short story with no real plot. constructive criticism would be helpful. also, I'm sure there are plenty sure misspellings and grammatical errors.


i tried to speak, all that followed was a cough blowing out the built up dust and the stale air that had been resting in my lungs, rushed from my exhaust pipe. choked up wishing the night could be here already, these sleeping pills had become the only sight of relief. i am 19, young and ready to take on the world. i wish that were true, I've lost sight of the things that meant so much to me. my ambition was the first thing to leave me, all other feelings followed suit as if to escape a life of disappointment. i hit bottom shortly there after. a father who made two mistakes in life never let us forget. as mistakes we would come to terms with being the broken condom, the precum, the failed pull-out. a life we don't want. a man that was just looking for fun on Saturday night. this man, this father, this person hasn't seen my face in over two years, its the only thing i have going for me now. these pills, five onto my tongue chased down with a three old day glass of water. i lay down my head at the thought of the day, one less to live. horns from the street wake me from an open window facing the street. i never could sleep well without it. something has happened, the flashing red and blue lights are dancing on the wall as the side effects wear off. i had gotten use to the spinning ceiling and the vomiting that ensues. i wash my face like all the shinny shit eating stars on the silver screen, a quick splash of cool water followed by a long stare into the mirror, into myself, wondering where things went wrong with me. i throw on the same clothes the previous three days had seen. down to the corner mart i pick up a coke, at this time 10 am almost feels too early to be awake, but the early mornings and twilight's of the night were the only times the cold air cleansed my body the only time i ever felt anything similar to being alive. just as the day begins to heat up, my cell rings. before i glanced at the caller i.d. I'd wish time and time again it would be her calling, she was everything i wasn't, she was the person that when i was around her nothing else mattered. as cliche as that sounds she was somebody i could see myself with. i never thought I'd have someone to say that about, most girls are as generic as white walls. but I'm my mind i knew it wasn't her.

i didn't answer, it was no use to talk to anyone anymore, the people at both ends of the line would always hang up mad. a voicemail would later tell me my sister was urging me to call my mother back. the rain in my head let up for a few hours, but the ground was still flooded I head down toward the school, incidentally the place i spent too many years not knowing what i was doing there. Rasputin, Henry the V, Cesar, pi, algebra, none of these things matter in life and death. but the routine of the 8 am march to class continues to this day, a fresh batch of kids were heading off to waste the first 18 years of life stuck inside, breathing chalk dust. my days were done there and i hadn't planned on doing anything remotely close to expanding my education. i have become the rake and shovel at the landfill, stirring up dirt and covering trash, doing my part in the destruction of this planet. brand new i would shine when any sort of light was near, now tarnished, chipped, dented and deserted after 5 pm. the school was behind me now, I'm not sure where I'm headed just yet. the beggars on James st. hold up cups at the sight of me. if i had any money I'd be on a train out of here. its strange to consider how someones life that started off possibly as new and stainless as mine ended up a slow moving train wreck. they would still plead with their god about his salvation, but they don't know god doesn't exist on the frozen streets in the late night, under the cardboard blankets, or the liquor store homes. keep praying, keep begging, keep on your knees. I'll keep walking.every young lady with straight black hair keeps me guessing its her, she was all i wanted and she'd never know it. i guess its called being out of your league, her being out of mine.or so they say. i would just say that beautiful young girl could have any promising young man she wanted, to pick me out of the billions would be foolish on her part. but still i wish. i don't know who is accepting these wishes or who chose to make them come true.

she's the girl that could save a guy like me from self destruction. i don't mean suicide, just the feelings of desolation and desperation and all those wonderful things that comes with it. not something that could be taken or asked for, it was her choice. nothing like the suspense of waiting on that single moment to happen, or not. the 33 gallon trash bags beneath my weary eyes are holding a flood, that at any single second could let loose a flood that would wash this mud off my shoes. the pain of waiting on this girl has me two pennies away from losing control of my mind. if i wish i could get my head on any other thing, any other pain, i would if i could. 4 hours of my day were spent on her and she'd never know.

passed closed curtain homes, i am a daylight ghost. fleeting around condemned buildings and bail bonds. i speak to no one, just pass looking the people I'm maneuvering around. could these people really be as happy as they look? am i really the only one feeling so hopeless. if 40 hour work weeks, TV, beer and kids at my age could make me happy, no thanks I'll pass. I'll keep my wasted life, never contributing to building someone Else's dream. i can't help but think, did i miss the train? was i stuck being the last one on the platform as it grew smaller in the sunset. was chasing the sunset the answer? I'm running in the opposite direction hoping the night would fall faster than that of the previous days. maybe someday I'll come across my own happiness and I'll be able to smile, those muscles in my cheeks haven't been used in years, and I'll be able to stand the daylight. maybe that day I'd throw those pills i took from work away. maybe my life would straighten up and I'd start to feel a hope growing in the pits of my stomach. maybe.