Chronicles of a Young Man, Chapter One

THE CHRONICLES OF A YOUNG MAN:
Part 1

Prologue


Dear Friends,

This is my story that you’re about to read; my journeys and insights into life. Keep that in mind. This is everything that has happened to me. These are the ideals that I had and have. These are the times that I lived in and live in. Believe what you will and scoff at that which you don’t. However, never forget it because one day it just might save your mind and your life. May this story be a lifeline and a savior; I hope it serves you well. I hope it serves as a reminder that you are never really alone. I pray that you find someone as great and wonderful as I did and keep her.
         
Corwin Redding
Signed,
- Corwin Redding
 
Ch. 1: The Start of the Journey

                I sat on my bed and debated if I should sneak out my bedroom window. I knew I couldn’t get in more trouble than I was in but still I thought about it. I was in trouble because my father had found my pot stash, which was unfortunate. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, but he had to go snooping through my stuff. Now if I remember correctly he would have had to pass by the porn, six empty bottles of beer, a crack pipe and seven condoms. Well, needless to say my father was looking for something specific. What a nosy man he was, couldn’t leave my stuff alone.
         I knew my mother would defend me if I snuck out, just as she had when my dad confronted me. That, of course, was because she did the same things and had in fact introduced me to them. The crack pipe had originally been hers and my first hit off a marijuana joint had been off of her joint.
My mother loved me, my father was always mad at me and I hated them both. They had messed me up. It was their entire fault. I blamed them for the way I was and nothing could change my mind. I was popular yet hated because of them. I wore black, cursed, talked back, and had a bad temper and everything else wrong with me, all because of them. They were the reason for everything. I was a nothing and it was all their fault.
         I looked in the mirror at myself, five feet, eleven inches and 264 pounds of muscle and fat. Angled face, not sharp but not dull. My defined muscles were not bulging but well shown, like I wanted them. Broad shoulders and a strong chest made my torso. A thick mat of black hair sat on my head, shagging just above deep dark blue eyes which where defined by smooth, thick, dark eyebrows.
         I turned away from the mirror not accepting what America wanted me to become. They wanted me to be a man with bulging muscles and an empty head. They didn’t care if I was smart as long as I looked big and strong. I hated America for what they were trying to do to me and too many other people in the nation.

I consider this the time and place that I truly became a young man. I also know that this is where Jak first appeared and moved me on my way. He helped to send me out that window. I believe that if he hadn’t been there I would still be home in that god-forsaken town. Jak saved my life then and I thank him despite all the things he did to me later on in my life. I have to remember that it is also my fault; I let him take control. Keep that in mind.

I began packing up the things that I needed to leave home for good. I didn’t know where I was going. However, I knew I wasn’t staying there; in that home of love, anger, and hate. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to leave. I stuffed my clothes in a bag along with some beers, a small bag of Mary Jane, a pack of cigarettes, my crack pipe, some crack and some cocaine. Everything I needed for my journey away from home.
         As I stepped out the window of my bedroom I looked back at the mirror. I saw myself as I was one last time. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an ashtray sitting on a table. A voice in my head told me to throw it, to destroy the mirror and thus destroy the American ideal. I grabbed it and chucked it at the mirror. I watched it shatter into a million pieces and then jumped out the window knowing that my parents had to of heard it.
I hit the ground hard, really hard. The fall was about three stories and it knocked the wind right out of me. After what seemed like an eternity I finally got up and ran away from my home of seventeen years.
After about five blocks I stopped running and I began to walk. As I walked along the empty streets of my town I realized that I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t go to any of my friends’ houses because their parents would tell my parents. I couldn’t stay in town, I’d have to leave and go on to the city.
I didn’t know how to get there though, I didn’t want to hitchhike and as I said before I couldn’t go to a friends house, so I was kind of stuck with walking the whole way there. I didn’t like the idea of that either though. I continued to walk for about a block before got to the park where I sat down on a bench. I sat there and began to wonder where I would go next.