Sunday, April 22, 2012

Eyes Open

Lately I've been starting to feel better. Aside from the constant pain in my lower back, countless nights of sleeplessness due to nightmares, and the empty nothingness somewhere inside of me. I've delevoped some sort of numbness to most of the world. But I desided it was time to do something. So I dragged myself out of my house and walked slowly to see Soda and Katie.

The smell of spring filled my nose as I shuffled my feet down the poorly paved road. I started to light up a cigarette, but thought it would ruin the pureness of the early spring air. Everything seemed brighter in the world, the people and children in their yards had heartier laughs, the birds sang, the sky blue without a cloud anywhere in sight.

As I made my way up the driveway, I felt a little smile playing across my lips. There was a special kind of happiness that seemed to radiate off the house. I didn't know why I suddenly was in such a better mood then my usual sulk, but it was nice. Must be all of the fond memories I share with this house. It was always my safe place to go to. Someone was always here for me.

I opened the door and took a quick survey of what I just walked into. From one of the bedrooms I could hear Katie singing to Skye, Brook and Ponyboy were cuddled up on the couch, grunts coming from the kitchen suggested wrestling over what I could only assume to be food, and Soda stareing at the television while tucking his DX shirt into his jeans. At first glance everything seems normal. No one really looks over to see who walked in. They're all in their own little worlds. Pony's playing with Brook's hair; Soda's smile is small but brilliant while he fumbles with his shirt, not really noticing anything; Two-bit's laugh echos through the house as Steve grunts "uncle", declaring Two-bit as the winner. A sharp pain touches my heart as I realise my depressing nature will only do harm to this perfect scene. But I'm determined to make myself better, so I sit on Darry's old chair with my feet tucked under myself as I admire the innocence of Brook and Ponyboy.

Katie emerges from the bedroom holding a giggling Skye on her hip. Soda is draw back to reality and takes Skye and kisses both her cheeks. Katie smiles as she wishes Soda a good day at work, taking Skye back. He kisses both of them goodbye, and Skye reaches for him whinning "Da da". Soda seems sad as he parts from them and heads for the door. Steve rushes through the living room, shouting "Wait up, man!", he fumbles on his shoes and him and Soda leave laughing.

I realise, for the first time, in my cloud of self-centeredness, that everyone is so happy desipte how I feel inside. I feel guilty for believing everyone hated this world as much as I do. How could I have wanted them to, anyway? They're all so happy. I breifly wonder if I should leave, but Katie is asking Pony to hold Skye for a moment while she does some quick laundry.

"I'll hold her," my oddly hoarse voice pipes up. The three of them look at me, shocked that they didn't realise I was sitting here.

"Um, alright." Katie hands Skye to me. She looks at me questionably, not in a way that doesn't trust me, but I usually don't request to hold any of the babies in the gang, only if they ask me too. I take Skye into my lap and she's babbling on in some sort of baby talk. It's actually really adorable. I smile at her, Katie leaves the room after a moment.

"How's my favorite Randle?" Two-bit half laughs, standing behind the chair over me, "Thought ya didn't like kids." I look up at him, his face is covered in chocolate, with his one eyebrow up in that way I could never master. I couldn't help the small laugh escape my lips.

"She's too cute not to like." Just as I said this, Skye grabs a tiny handful of my hair and yanks down. "Ow!" I fake glare at her, smiling.

"She likes hair," Brook laughs, "I always keep mine up in a ponytail." She sits up higher to fit her back closer to Pony's chest, he immediatly wraps his arms around her torso and burys his face in her hair.

"Aw, love birds." Two-bit smiles at them, "Welp, I'm off to start some trouble. Anyone wanna come?" He ruffles my hair before leaving after we all decline.

I look down at Skye and she looks back at me. "Hi," I say in a small baby voice I didn't even know I had. She smiles and grabs at my face. She hits my jaw a few times. I don't stop her because she's happy. After a moment she whines and squirms, so I set her on the floor, careful not to break her. She's so tiny and fragile, it seems any sort of roughness could damage her. I watch as she squirms on the floor, lifting her legs in the air and rolling.

About 15 minutes later, Katie comes back and scoops up Skye, asking her if she was having fun on the floor. The look of lovingness in her eyes is the same that come from Blair as she looks at her babies and the way Mrs. Mathews used to look at the three Mathews kids. A mothers love, clearly. I never had anyone look at me like that. I feel the longing mixed with self pity of myself for never having a mother. I quickly stand up and annouce that I need to go pick some stuff up from the store and rush out.

I start to run down the street, ignoring the pain in my back and legs. I run from those bad feelings. I don't like them. They ruin my life and cloud my vision of this world. It's not a terribly bad place, sure it has some rough spots. But I like this happy feeling. I don't want to let it go.

I run to through the lot, but I trip halfway through and land flat on my face. I lay there for a moment before sitting up. I pull myself over to a large tree. After a quick inspection, I realise I scraped my forehead up. Not too bad, I've had worse. But it still stings. I grumble some curses at the ground as a whip my hands off on my jeans. I look up and my heart sinks.

Sitting on the edge of the water fountain sits Buck, his precious smile making the sunny day even brighter. I broke up with Buck a few months ago when I was shot by the Socs, because I thought I was dying and didn't want him to see it. I ignored all his calls while I wollowed in my own self pity even since. I've missed him something awful, and watching him give a picked dandilion to some girl I can't seem to place in my mind makes my stomach naueous and I want to vomit.

I don't blame him for liking her. She has long curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She's wearing some little dress thing that makes her look really tiny around the waist, and she's probably small statured anyway. Her skin is clear and she has a perfect smile. She's beautiful, unlike me. Buck's handsome blue-grey eyes have that in-love look that they always shared with me. My heart aches like its on fire, my throat swells and my vision is blurred by tears.

I recongnize the girl now. She always hung around the bar and tried to talk to Buck when I wasn't there. I always got jealous and up myself in between them when I would see them. I guess he deserves her though. She doesn't seem to be sad like me. She probably doesn't have a bruised and beaten up heart like mine. Buck never deserved the burden that I am. He looks happy. I get to my feet and shuffle off to my empty house.

How could such a good day of recognision of happiness end so badly? I guess I had given the world to much credit. It's a dirty and terrible place. My chest burns as a sob uncontrolably into my pillow. Oh, how I miss Buck. I never realised how important and special he was to me while I was with him. I was too caught up in my own shit to bother.

My shaking hands try to light a cigarette to calm myself, but I can't breathe in the smoke well so I just put it out and save it for later. I start to become angry. If Buck really loved me, how had he moved on so fast? I scream and cry until I become so exhausted and fall into a deep slumber that only waits to be awaken by nightmares of my father and the socs...


~Carson

Sunday, January 29, 2012

dancing with the devil

The cold in my heart was a gift from you. You taught me not to trust; you taught me to be afraid. You made me stronger and weaker at the same time. After all the abuse, you'd think I'd hate you. But I loved you with all a girl could ever love.
You fought me every step of the way. You never showed any love for me. I was nothing to you. It's your fault I'm bitter and alone. You made me hate myself. I could never be good enough to impress you. I was the dirt at the bottom of your shoes.
You were the most vial man I've ever had a unpleasant chance of meeting. And now I stand over you, while you lay colder then your own heart on the hardwood floor. Surrounded by empty booze bottles and vomit. That's how you wanted to go, wasn't it? You were a sad piece of shit. But you were my father, and I held an unconditional love for you. And you broke my heart.
As the single tear slid silently down my cheek, I nudged you with my crutch. I wonder if I killed you. I killed my mother in birth, the woman you loved; so it wouldn't surpise me if your sufferings came from my deed. I pulled my gaze away from your blank face to stare out the window. I thought about Chase, Soda and Katie, and Blair and Dallas. They all had beautiful children who they would all love unconditionally. A sob escaped knowing I'd never meant that way to anyone.
I fell to my knees and let out a scream at the pain. My crutches smacked on the floor. I shivered, not from the cold but by the smell of death and alcohol coming from my father. I looked at him again, biting my lip. You're not sorry. I thought to myself. He didn't care that I'm left alone, he didn't care that he ruined my life.
I layed on my side and stared at him, crying. If he saw me cry he'd beat the shit out of me. But he laid there, his vacent eyes staring straight at me, unmoving. It was hauting.
Eventually I went to bed. I just left him on the kitchen floor to rot. Tomorrow I'll call the police or whatever and have them take him away. Just like the should have when he hit me for the first time. But now he's dead, and theres no changing the past.
See you in Hell, dad.
-Carson

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

how can it feel so real and be so wrong?

It has been approximately 3 months since I have been out of the hospital. I've moved back in with my father. He's been sympathetic; when he's not drinking. He usualy leaves me alone. I stay in my room all day.
I'm supossed to be attending phyisiotherapy. But I haven't since about 2 weeks after getting out of the hospital. It was boreing. So I practice my walking at home. I have a set of crutches that I use to get to the kitchen and bathroom. I rely mostly on my arms to carry myself around. I get tired easily, so I'm mostly in bed.
I smoke half a pack a day from boredom. I pay my father to buy the ciggerettes with some money I have from a savings account. It's starting to run low but I don't care, I feel like I'm going to be dying son anyway.
Every nerve below the small of my back feels like its on fire most of the day. I try not to take too many pain killers. At least I still have feeling in my back, I mean. At least I have the ability to get up and move around without a wheel chair. I still have one, for if I wanted to go out to the store or visit people. Why would I though? They'd all laugh. The tough greaser Carson Randle confided into a wheel chair? Immobile? Unable to defend herself? No way. I'm not going out until I can run a fucking marathon. It's hard to work my legs though. I'm in so much pain, and occasionaly they will spaze. So I just curl up in bed and cry until the pain numbs. And then I sleep.
When I try to eat, I always get sick and throw it up. I've lost a lot of weight. I look like death. On the odd occasion that I glance into the mirror, I see that my cheeks are sunken in, the rims of my eyes are red and I look tired. My skin is as pale as a sheet of paper from the lack of sun light. My teeth are starting to become more yellow from smoking. My eyes are dull. I look older then my age. I'm very ugly. I miss my old face. I don't wear make up because there's no one around to impress.
I don't know what to do with myself. I'm a pathetic blob of life. I'm tired. I want to be done. I'm sick and tired of this pain. I'm done with not being able to walk. I feel like offing myself one of these days. Esspecially with Christmas coming up and all. It's fucking depressing.
I miss the gang. I miss Darry acting like a father figure. I miss laughing at Blair and Dallas acting like parents. I miss the gleam in the eyes of the lovers within the group, and then pretending to puke at their lovey-dovey shit when I'm really just jealous of the for-sure enternal love they share. I miss picking on everyone for no reason. I miss laughing. I miss seeing others laugh. I miss being ignorant. Being careless and not giving a second thought to anything. Living on impulse.
Maybe I can get a do over. Maybe I can start over with a new life. I can be reborn as a beautiful, talented, loved person. All I need to do is the breif moment of death. thats all I need..
~Carson

Friday, August 5, 2011

no rest for the reckless.

I don't remember much after calling Steven. Just the dull pain covering my entire body that seemed a million miles away, and the wetness of my shirt. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I almost vomited on the pavement in front of me when a car pulled up behind me. I didn't turn my head to look, I was too weak.

Steve's voice sounded far away, but so did the ringing in my ears. The thumping in my head and the hard road under myself were the only things I could concentrate on as Steve gently lifted me from the ground. I whimpered and tensed as the distant pain suddenly filled my body. Steve startled and his jerky movement only made it worse. I tried holding the pain away, but I failed miserably. Steve lowered me onto my belly in the back seat of his pick up.

I don't remember the drive to the hospital. But I'm assuming it was unpleasant. I awoke in a strangely comfortable bed. There was a beeping to my left, the sound of shuffling feet and quiet voices to my right, and a very empty feeling inside of me. After opening my eyes I realized I was in a hospital. The door to the hallway was open a bit and on my left was a heart monitor thing. The IV was inside my inner elbow, which was kind of odd. I didn't move my left arm because of the IV, I didn't want it to rip. I rubbed my eyes with my right hand, and checked my hair to see how greasy it was. Not too bad. I couldn't have been here long.

I looked around the room, no one was there. It hurt a little, but judging by the light from the window it was probably noon, everyone would have been at work. I sat there for what seemed like eternity, gathering my memories about what happened. My legs had that annoying asleep feeling, like pins and needles or whatever. I examined my slightly yellow finger tips in disgust. I HAVE to quit smoking, even if it kills me. But the way I feel now, death doesn't feel too far away.

After the nurse noticed I was awake, she told a doctor. When he came into see me, I wasn't very surprised. He was a tall lean man, probably 50. Round glasses and bald head. Regular guy. He introduced himself as Dr. Robinson. I didn't really care. He asked me how I felt and I said shit, he hit my knee with a hammer and I swear I could have kicked him in the face. The pain was overwhelming. But my leg didn't really move. He wrote stuff down on his clip board the left. The nurse told me when the next meal would be, and that it was chicken with vegetables. She asked if she could call anyone for me, but I declined the offer.

I considered calling Buck. I'd love to see him. But things are going so well. I don't want it to change. And I'm scared that if anything happens I'll be left alone again. I might as well leave our relationship with good memories rather then bad. I didn't really want to see any of the gang. I just laid in bed crying until dinner came. The person helped me sit up and put the tray on the bed table thingy. I thanked them and nibbled on the chicken. It was dry. I sighed. Not really hungry anyway.

The doctor came back later and did some tests. He took me for an x-ray. I needed to be escorted around in a wheel chair all over the damn place. And it hurt so bad. I could really feel the bandages on my back in the chair. After the X-ray I got new bandages and was taken back to my room. The doctor returned shorty and explained to me that I had a chance of walking again. He said it appeared that my nerves were not severely damaged and they could do surgery to help fix it. Or I could just live forever in a wheel chair. Simple decision, right? No. Since I don't have insurance I can't afford the surgery. I told the doc that i would think about it. He looked sympathetic as he left. Why did everything have to fuck up now? Shit was going good for a bit.

Whatever, life sucks.

-Carson

Saturday, July 2, 2011

it's ok, there's always another day...

Life has been so boring. I had smoked a whole pack of ciggerettes and it was only 1 in the afternoon. I was headed over to the DX to see if I could bum a pack off Steve, Soda or Dim, but I knew they wouldn't give me one for free so I found a couple bucks for when my plans failed. I strolled inside, my fingers grazing over the handle of my blade in my pocket. I contemplated useing it to pretend to rob them, and smiled a little to myself.

"What are you grinnin' about little sis?" Steve called to me from the counter, "did Buck last longer then 30 seconds last night?" he chuckled a little.

"Ha ha very funny." I picked out an areo bar from the candy display and put it on the counter "I want a pack of ciggerettes too, please" I said with a fake preppy smile.

"Gimme the dough first kid." Steve got down a pack of my favorite brand.

"But you love me and I have no money" I opened the chocolate and took a bite as he snorted at me.

"Fuck that, you got a job now. I know you have the money" He flicked my forehead and I rolled my eyes. I pulled the money out of my pocket and put it on the counter. He cashed it in and put the change in his empty tip cup. He put on a big smile,"why thank you for the generous tip! I love you kid!" he ruffled up my hair. "Go play in the park now and be home in time for dinner!" I rolled my eyes and grabbed my shit and walked out.

I stuck a cigg in my mouth, lit it and took a long drag. I was bored. I wanted something to do. Something stupid but relitivly safe. And usually in a mood like this, with no rumbles coming up, I walk around the Socs side of town. In my most ripped jeans and a trashy t shirt. I'd only been walking about 35 minutes when I heard the crack of a gun shot. I fell to the ground with a sharp pain in my back. I felt small stings in my cheek and knees where the gravel scraped my skin, but it was nearly pleasure compared to the pain in my back. A fancy red mustang past me with a couple boys and a slut or two screaming their usual greaser! I watched them speed off until they were out of eyesight before I pulled out my phone and called the first person I could think of. "Steve? it's Carson..I can't feel my legs.."

Sunday, June 26, 2011

they say life is complicated.

Life isn't complicated. You wake up, go to work, eat 3 meals, take one good shit and then go to bed.

But really, since I've started living with Buck, life has been better then ever. I don't feel depressed, I feel happy even. I'm happy to be alive, to have amazing people surrounding me. Somedays I even feel (God forbid..) pretty. I feel safe around Buck. I feel at home. When I go to his, our, place, and say "home" it feels right.

I've even got a job! I work at the Blockbuster downtown by Walgreens. I work mornings Tuesday - Thursday and Sunday afternoons. I don't mind the morning shifts, Buck's always sleeping till noon anyway.

I don't have much else going on in my life. Other then my co-worker Josh, who looks like a young Wolverine (sideburn facial hair shit and all) is the best person to work with. I'm never bored with him around :3

In addition to Kitty and Two-bit's marriage, theres some other hot sizzily love in the gang. After falling hard for Hannibal Lecter, Jelly somehow.. turned.. into him.. and his liver eatting fava beans everything... It's extermily questionable how this happened, but Dimitiririrjir is heart broken. On the other hand, Brenenenan is all hot and bothered. She accepts Jelly/Hannibal for whatever he/she/it is. Jelly/Hannibal really likes this, and agrees to elope with Brenanananana. Dimitiriei is very upset. He just wants his Jelly back and is too much of an asshole to accepte her as Hannibal. Or something.

Theres nothing else happening and I'm fucking tired.

-Carson

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I have mittens that look like kittens.

It's hard to leave. No matter how much I want to, no matter how many people tell me to. But today is the day shit changes. I pushed all my worries aside, wrote a resumee and applied everywhere I could in Tulsa. I packed my shit and asked Buck if I could stay with him, "yea, of course baby. you don't need to ask" I knew he'd say that, but I didn't want to be one of those pushy girlfriend's and demand that I stay with him :s.

As I was taking my bag of clothes and other crap out the door, my dad, dear sweet dad -.-, shouts "where the fuck are you goin'?!" I just looked him in the eye and said, "see you in hell, heartless bastered." and left, slamming the door.

In that moment, I felt a huge ten ton weight lift off my chest. I felt a true smile across my face, optimistic about the future. I held my shoulders straight, me head high, and I swear, in that moment, I was invinsible.

-Carson