DarkWaveDoom

. . . what you think.

The first word is pretty much the title, I haven’t edited much. I’ve typed up most of it today. Just tell me, do you think it’s any good?

Fear. But what exactly is it? Everybody has felt a moment in their lives where they really are stuck for words – speechless, gobsmacked, whatever. Does one really know the cause of such anguish, why their adrenal glands actually secrete adrenaline into their blood stream, sending their bodies into ‘survival’ mode? Happiness is one of a small handful of feelings to be cherished during any one lifetime, others? Hmm, pleasure, love, passion. So why is it that fear, a measly feeling such as fear, has the longest lasting effects. Sure, everybody remembers the good times, when kids could run around in their own neighbourhood, shouting wildly at one another. Having the time of their lives. Until fear sets in. One summers day, an idiot, one moronic idiot thought, “What’s the harm in taking one of these chicks down to the woods and playing a few games, huh?” Oh, now everybody remembers that. The bad shall always outweigh the good, no matter how much of a good time you’ve enjoyed. One of life’s stories I learnt the hard way.

And as I stand here, gasping for breath; memories of the one I love, the one that shall always truly need me no matter what, the same being I cradled in my arms the day she was born – I feel sick to the bone. How could I have let this happen? Surely this is none other’s fault. I promised myself, my wife, and my daughter that they’d never be alone.

But there’s no tellin’ what fate has in store for you, who thought that I’d be the one left in this world. Being the ‘father at home’? I’ve let a lot of people down in my time. I’m on the winding path of trying to make amends. It seems as if life isn’t going my way. Failure, after failure, after failure; a very short sentence that sums me up very well. Now, I’m not one to believe in some sort of eternal being whether be it Buddha or that Jewish God, Adonai, though I’d once did. I must admit these past few years I’ve been seeking out some sort of guidance, from whom? I don’t know, that lady up in heaven? Perhaps. Silly.

The phone rings that melodic hum encouraging me to pick up, I check the caller ID, Kim: my sister. I let it go into voice mail, listening to my cheery voice asking the caller to leave a message, promising that I’d get back to them ASAP.

“Kyle, Kyle. Answer my calls, I know you’re there. You mustn’t blame yourself. ”She says, as Claudia and Maple pretend they’re fire-fighters – she just doesn’t understand.

She’d been there always, through what I like to call “My life’s rocky journey. ” Though a considerably large amount might come to the conclusion of “. . . to hell’s end. ” I’d always been an outcast right from the very beginning. Through nursery to all those ‘joyful’ years in primary. I’d keep to myself, out of others’ way. I’d do well in class, pleasing my parents – being the son I thought they wanted. But, Kim, Kim my junior of two years unravelled me like the blanket I were, she knew I didn’t enjoy learning in a solitary environment, so she became the one I could truly confide in, in return I taught her, rather showed her, how not to live one’s childhood.

Then at the tender age of just 15, as my testosterone levels soared, as I grew hands as big as any man’s and limbs so lanky I’d actually thought, at one point, I might out grow Michael Jordan, something clicked. Hard to explain but something did. I could feel the difference, feel it in my blood. As if I had another heart within me, pulsing. Or maybe I’d just understood myself better, maybe all along I’d been trying to breathe under water, and then, only then, did I inhale my first gasps of air. See the world for what it really was.

I began meeting new people, not so much new, but people I shared something with. They’d always been there, right the way through school, now I just understood them. I was no longer the lonely, ‘hot’ guy in the corner. Along with this bout of self confidence my attitude changed, so too did my wardrobe, I lost faith in ‘God’. I was into the Goth/Punk/Emo (whatever you want to call it) scene. I belonged. School no longer interested me, my grades plummeted. And quite franky I didn’t care. I stopped talking to Kim, my parents. The people that loved me most. I wasn’t sweet Kyle any more; I was the wild child, the rebel kid.

I’d rave until dawn, down bottle after bottle of cheap vodka. It’s a miracle I still have my own liver. I started taking drugs; everything I took however, was perfectly legal. I’d take homemade cocktails of industrial pharmaceuticals nearly every other day of the week. With a father into medicine, nothing was hard to get hold of.

But that’s weird, no? You want answers, not more questions. A normal kid, with well educated, loving parents living in a wealthy neighbourhood doesn’t just become a foul mouthed druggie, does he? You want that ‘cause’ and ‘effect’ bul

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