plz read if you could
its a personal narrative and i need to iron out any problems it has
Vacation
Chain smoking cigarette after cigarette until there was a hazy fog of smoke above my head I sat in a tiny hole in the wall dinner. A pair of headlights reflected on the grimy widow making the white suburban they belonged to seem much darker than before. As I squeeze my way out of the tiny window booth and glance at the other 24 hour dinner patrons with a nervous wondering about whether anyone knew that I was carrying twelve hundred dollars in my pocket. Pushing open the glass door sounded the little bell that’s sole purpose was to bring attention to those passing through it. The slightly chilly night summer air cooled these thoughts and brought a whole new wave of nervousness upon me as I walked towards the passenger door of the ominous white suburban. The passenger window rolled down and a familiar dark man in a black hooded sweatshirt waved me to the back seat. I nodded, put my hands in my pockets and focused my attention on the door trying as best as I could not to trip on my way there or succumb to nervousness that filled me.
I sat in the dark back seat and felt the wad of twenties and hundreds that was concealed in the front pocket of my new brown dress coat I had saved up for through biweekly deals like this. Silence surrounded the three of us as I got in and the car backed up out of the small maybe twelve car parking lot. The dark complected passenger I had been associated with through a business of sorts for the past few months flipped on the overhead dome light and started rummaging underneath his seat. He found three industrial size Zip-Lock bags packed until they stretched out the sides with a dark green leaf and stacked them down by his feet. “Twelve hundred, right?” he asked me in an almost nonchalant voice.
“Yeah,” I replied in the same, could care less, type of attitude. I fished the wad of money had been itching at my side for what seemed like ages. He glanced over and took the half folded wad of bills out of my hand that was stretched across his left shoulder. The car pulled over off to the side of the street and came to a stop and this man I had come to trust as a business partner looks back and me and says, “You want a’ get out now or do I have to put this gun in your face?” I froze with of look of confusion covering my face. It must have shown my lack of understanding for what was happening because with that he reached down by his feet and grabbed the silver revolver and touched the cold steel to my right temple. The sound of the tip of the barrel tuching my head sounded through my empty shell of a body jolting me from fear to anxiety. I looked down to the door handle and reached for it quickly, sputtering out an “all right man.” I thrust open the door and stumbled out. Swinging it shut behind me I took a few large steps of fear and sped up to an almost jog and then was overtaken by the grief of the overwhelming loss that had just conspired. With a glance over my shoulder I saw that the ominous white suburban had left me behind and was now nowhere in sight.
I felt as though I had just run 4 miles. My legs were dead, my insides felt empty. I put a shaking hand into the pocket of my coat to fish out a pack of cigarettes. Attempting to subdue the intense anxiety that I felt in both mind and body my shaking hand fumbled with the white lighter trying to ignite the stress relieving stick of tobacco that was quivering clenched between my teeth. The bright orange glow lit up my hands and face as the lighter finally caught spark. I looked up and to my sides at the completely unfamiliar surroundings. I was lost, both mentally and geographically. My mind was racing with thoughts wondering why this had happened. My stomach churned with the thought that I had just lost over a thousand dollars. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs obscenities of the worst possible kind I could think. Overcome with depression and emptiness I thought that I should have stood my ground and acted more like “a man would have.” Taking the bullet would have been a much more proud way to go than this walk of shame in a neighborhood I was completely lost in.
The walk eventually wore on my body to the point where I felt numb. I looked down at the coat I was wearing and thought that maybe I was lucky to get out with the little loss I took. I thought back to the wasted summer vacation I had spent driving all over town selling the green leaf across everyone in my middle class high school. What on earth was I to do now, the thought raced through my mind. Everyone knew me as the guy who they could get their little ten and twenty dollar bags from and now I was just a broke kid walking down the street with nothing. The respect that I thought I had well earned through my deeds to the people was surely to be lost. Even at the young age of seventeen a loss such as this makes the thought of living on almost unbearable.
I finally saw the little dinner’s flickering parking lot light shining in the distance and I felt renewed in a sense. At least one of my problems had been solved. The fact that I had at least been able to see my way out of the dark maze of an unfamiliar neighborhood gave me slight hope in overcoming this devastating blow. Selling drugs had been a waste of my time anyways I thought, reassuring myself farther that everything was going to be alright. I did a lot of growing up on that long walk back to my car. Childhood for me was at that moment over. I would just have to move on. The time of vague memories and nonproductive indulgence in any pleasure I desired now seemed like a thing of the distant past. Hard work lied ahead of me and I knew it. When I reached the dinner I felt refreshed in a sort of way, a ready and embracing willingness for change overcame me. I opened the door to my car and sat in the dark driver’s seat glancing over my steering wheel into the still brightly lit dinner that let me know, the world moves on.
This post was edited by flapel on Sep 23 2008 11:08pm