Locked in the Past

            by Max Leonhard

 

   There he is, sitting on a bench in the park, staring at a building in front of him.

One can barely spot his face, for his dirty brown beard, which is tobacco stained, covers his entire grimace and an oversized, filthy gray fur hat produces a large shadow, which covers the poor homeless guy’s sorrowed filled blue eyes. His elbows are leaning onto his rage covered, bony legs, and his torn up face is resting on his dirty hands. Suddenly, he begins mumbling.  For split seconds one can see the look of his teeth, which would definitely frighten most of the people walking by. Yes, life had worn hard on him, and one could see that it had had a lot of pain and misery included. He had lost everything, and lives day by day only with 2 thoughts, survival and the need to satisfy his very dangerous hunger. For a long time he doesn’t move nor stir, one can see the sun moving farther and farther towards nighttime. If people would actually care, by now they would probably think he is dead. A newspaper comes flying out of nowhere and hits his head with a bash, the man bounces off the bench, as if hit by a lightning strike and runs in a circle yelling, “I didn’t do it! Please, I didn’t do it!”   Again his body petrifies and he stands still for a moment, his head is lost in dizzy, blurry thoughts, which at this point he’s dealing with by stretching his arms out, as if wanting to grab something, while blurting out several weird sounds, which sound extraordinarily similar to the crow of a rooster. He is confused and doesn’t now how to get out of the gigantic mess inside his brain. After acting out these strange emotions, he turns around with a jerk and sits back down on the bench.  

      This time he is sitting in a different position, his head leaned on his shoulder, his hands and feet dangling aimlessly in the air, giving support to his furious bursts of frustration created by the chaos in his head. 

        Unexpectedly, he leaps up and screams "NO," as he collapses on the ground. It is October and the leaves are covering the cement road, which is leading towards the city center. The bench is empty now and the wind is stroking his body with an icy cold breeze. As he looks up, the color of the sky fills him with sadness and depression. The darkish gray and black of a cold, cloudy, late afternoon sucking out all remaining positive feelings inside of him.   

       The spot in the leaves on which the man had laid before, is empty. It appeared as if he had just vanished.  However, there very close to his past spot, something is shivering and squealing under the bench. One can’t really see if it’s him, for the leaves cover up the entire body. Just one Arm is sticking out of the leaf pile clinching on to a smoking device, that is lowered now and then, back into the leaf pile interrupting the mumbling sound.

      "Ohhh, please I just need a little" a frustrated deep and scurvy voice shouts so laud, a couple people even turn around with a shocked face to see where the hell this noise is coming from, but as soon as he is spotted they continue walking away with disgust.

      The man is all on his own, struggling with thoughts of his past, which haunted him for the last 9 years, two weeks and one day. This is a bad day. A day without any distraction, the hard presence bursts upon him. No money, broke. Broke again, hungry and thirsty for many different things, but now way to get them. Today he and his mind confront each other at last. There is no escape, nowhere to go and nothing to be done. No leaves that can fix the problem and no bench that he can hide under.

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      "Why did I do this to myself?" He thinks.

      "Why am I here, Why not  in my warm home, together with my family relaxing with Rosalin on the beautiful white couch, and little Henry, he would be playing with little cars on are convertible cozy rug while Snuffy the dog would bark."

      His pale face comes diving out of the pile of leaves and hits the bench with a loud clunk. "Fuck, Goddamn bench" He barks out as he rises to his feet and starts trashing it.

      His fit starts to rise again "AAARRGGGH, I want it back, everything, every fucking part of my life" He lights up in a rage of fire and starts trashing everything around him.   

      People start watching from far away, but nobody dares to come near him.  A sound, he hears it very clearly and loud, a sound of laughter “, somebody is making fun of him, but who? Who? Whispers that are so easy to pick up, but no one around him seams to have heard them. 

"Is there a problem? Huh?"  He cries out, while his facial expression changes dramatically. He is scared now, scared and confused and does not know what is going on? He moves towards the people watching him and roars while spit mixed with chewing tobacco bursts out of his wide open mouth.  Blood surges to his face, and everybody starts running away, which makes him feel even worse.  He starts banging his head against a wall, screaming all kinds of words. Out of his pocket he flips a knife, and starts stabbing the air in front of his chest. “relax.., relax Jack its all good, calm down, its ok…., calm down.  He turns around and steers back to the bench, closes his eyes and tries to allow some sort of nostalgia to take over.

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9 years ago everything was great, He had money, a house, a beloved wife and little Henry, who was only 1 and a half years old as he had to leave.

He wondered why he ever started this disaster.  Everything had been so nice and peaceful, but he couldn't see it, nor appreciate it.  He felt he had just wasted his time on nonsense.

      I’d kill Burt if he weren't already dead he thought.  Why did I let that fool do this to me in the first place. He wrecked everything, he took it, he took everything from me as he showed me the path of mystery and excitement. The medicine, the thing, the only thing that could let me out of my emotional pain and stress of my daily life, the medicine that had the power of curing me for a while. It was so wonderful, so great. Henry's screaming didn't bother me anymore, my wife seemed way hotter then she actually was and I felt so good! I wanted to hug everything that came in my way, hell, I wanted to embrace the entire world.

      One could say I had the best life you could have. It had its ups and downs, but I lived through it. Until then, for one day I was suddenly standing at a crossroad, at which I had to choose the direction of my life. Burt came rushing in and told me the most terrific news, he could ever possibly think to exist.

"I've got it he said I've got it all, I've got everything man. Its’ all in the trunk, man, dude, this is the biggest present I have ever given somebody."

      He starts bursting out in laughter. With this particular one moment everything changed. It was as if a lightning stroke hit my head, I saw what Burt had in his hand and told him to open it. He layed the suitcase on the bed and opened it up. It was filled with drugs, there was Cocaine, Acid, Ecstasy, pure Mdma, Heroine, and plenty of other types all in different shapes and with a variety of graphic labels printed on top.  

      "Where the fuck did you get these?" I asked him.

      He told me not to bother. "You can have as much as you want, just take it, I’ll leave the suitcase with you for a while".

      I didn't ask any further questions and figured that it wasn’t really that important and not worth the bother.

      Months had passed and I hadn’t heard anything from Burt, who had left his suitcase in my house. Life was going on and my family was sort of happy with me being so glad, but also confused by my continued changing mood, but my little secret was still one of my own, and I planned on it to stay that way. Nothing could have gotten better at this time.  So, as usual, it got worse. I was sitting at the fire place together with my family as we heard a knock at the door, I got up and floated over to greet the guest. The door opened. For a split second I stood there, not moving one inch, starring into a big metal pipe pointed direct at my head. I was confronted with a situation in which my brain was not able to function. Everything turned blurry, and I slowly backed up into the room. 4 bearded Cubans came in. "The suitcase!" A fierce looking guy in overalls and braided  beard and hair demanded.

      I was unable to talk, I just pointed to my room. 3 of the men went digging though my stuff while the other was touching my wife in front of my eyes. I was furious, but I knew I shouldn't move if I wanted to live.

      The 3 other men returned holding the suitcase. "There's some missing you punk,” one shouted and smacked the gun in my face. "I think we should teach you a lesson."

      One of them picked up our little dog and asked if we loved him" "Please," my wife said in a voice barely strong enough to be heard. "Please, don't."

      She was interrupted by a bang, and was bathed with the fresh blood of the beloved dogs brain. The men laughed and told me I should watch my step if I didn't want to end up like my friend Burt. Then they disappeared as fast as they had come.

      My wife was still shaking, I bent down to hug her, but she wouldn't let me, turned her back on me, that’s what she did and she hasn't turned around since. I had to go, leave, and never come back. The beautiful face that has always looked at me with pleasure joy and attraction is for me now forever disguised.    

      I am now sitting on a bench covered in rags, freezing and wishing for wonders, but they won't come. They will never come. Miracles are Myths! They are nothing but fucking myths. I need to take care of my life, on my own, actively…… 

I will not be suffering anymore, he abruptly decides and makes his way towards the jewelry shop which is right across the street from the park. character being influenced. “they want to fool me, they want to fuck with me, they want me down on the floor like a dog, sleeping on trash and looking up into there unfriendly faces which couldn’t even share a grin with me and spit in my face. why for the sake of all whiskey in town should I be treated like that? Revenge, a bloody Revenge, that is what I want  ….yes…he. .he. Yes that is what I want.  

      A dramatic change in his face, “No I’ll travel back all the way to Altersdorf and visit my uncle in his little hut, he always has a place for me to recover, a good guy”

      He starts laughing, a deep and devious laughter, a fake one, “ I hate my fucking uncle he’s a dirty mother fucker, and I know that for a fact, giving me those strange looks, he’s making fun of me, screwing me, like everybody is. AAARREGHEH”

  Nobody will be messing with me anymore, I will not take it any more, I cannot. 

The entering of the jewelry shop is very noticeable, for he stabs the window of the door with his big kitchen knife, so that it brakes while he kicks open the door.

He looks around and sees that the store is empty, just one little women with a pointed  elf looking face scarcely stares at him, frozen as if she had been in a freezer for the last couple of days , She is sitting behind the counter, looking at him, now starting to shake  full of terror.  He slowly makes his way to the counter , and hands her the kitchen knife, “ Kill me, come on kill me.” The women not being able to respond nor hold the knife with her shaking sweaty hands just replies with a quiet sobbing mumbling “please” .

      “Am I not the scum, the filth, the dirt, the shit….? Lady I’m talking to you.”

“you think I’m filth..? My wife thinks I’m filth. Do you…Ha…?  

Jack lifts up his oversized kitchen knife and holds it to the throat of the women “I am asking you a question, am I a worthless human being just because I’m different? Answer me “ The knife slowly loses touch with her skin, Jack looks at her and says, if I’m worthless you wouldn’t care if I die, would you? “

“Like Rosalin, she doesn’t care.”

      A slash, a quick slash… blood.  A scream. Silence, nothing to be heard but for the drips of blood dropping onto the forehead of the women.   “do I fucking look like I’m kidding you slut.” His forehead now with a cut going down to his nose, you want me to kill my self , is that what you want.” The women opening her mouth in order to talk, couldn’t get one tone to appear, terrified, shocked, dramatized.   Are you going to fill this bag with money and valuables or not? Should I kill myself first, is that what you want, ore should I kill us both maybe?!”  The knife slowly touches his finger, which releases a slight amount of blood.   Suddenly his head starts spinning. Randomly he decides to take a piss and think over what he is about to do ore has already done. “Where’s the toilet?” He says. The women is confused and way to scared to answer him properly, but slightly manages to lift her shaking hand towards the restrooms.

Jack  thanks her politely and shuts the door of the toilet.

The women still standing there unable to move an inch. The room is painted a calming blue on the walls and up on the sealing there is a refreshing green. In the small mirror hanging over the old fashion faucet, he sees his face. Bloody, wasted, tired and confused. “That’s me?” 

A bang and the door goes flying open, out comes Jack with a bunch of toilet paper rapped around his head, keeping the blood inside.

“I’m so sorry Lady, I have lost myself” He turns around and leaves the shop.  

He pauses in the middle of the street, closes his eyes and at that moment he decided to forget his painful frustrations of the past and move on to a new life. While a fresh breeze of wind blows through his hair, hope rises up inside of him “I can do it” he says “ finely, I can live again”.

Before taking off into the wide open world, he walks back to the shop door, pulls his old marriage ring off his finger and lays it on the door mat, turns around and departs.