Suburbia

Living in small town suburbia was a drag at the best of times. The endlessly same days, the sickening uniformity of the street Damien lived on all conspired to make him feel as ordinary as possible. The pavement was pockmarked with cracks and flattened chewies, proving that a time before Damien’s had once existed and providing the only source of uniqueness for kilometres. Even the people were the same, same mannerisms, same clothes, same houses. They would try to be different, Damien observed, by getting different haircuts, or wearing seemingly different clothes. But they never broke the mold, never stood out in any particular way. Lemmings, Damien called them. Lemmings, following one another as they tried to out do the person next door. But these lemmings had claws, claws that hurt when they dug into your still beating heart and tore it out in a fountain of… Damien stopped. Vultures, that’s what they are. They laughed and smiled and acted all nice, but the moment one of their kind fell the others bared their talons and rendered them to pieces.

Damien shook his head, his curly blond locks flicking this way and that with the impatience of a teenage boy. I hate them. They gave him gifts, he begrudgingly took them. I hate them. They complimented him on his hair, or on his deep blue eyes and ‘surfie-boy’ looks. He barely acknowledged them; after all, he knew he was attractive and handsome. Why should they tell him? I hate them, so why am I one of them? It wasn’t my choice, Damien figured. It wasn’t my fault. It was my parents. Why did they have to live here? It was obvious Damien didn’t belong here, the kids his age acted like toddlers. Year ten was so easy Damien could’ve done it blindfolded.

Damien looked up from the mirror and put the comb down with sudden impudence. I hate this! I hate my parents!

“Damien honey, are you finished? We have to get going sweetie, so please hurry.”

I don’t want to go, why should I go? I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to move, I wanted to stay.

“Damien? Are you ready?” His mum’s voice wafted through once more, sweet, yet when Damien heard it a pang of sorrow hit him like a school bus. Why? I didn’t want to move, it’s not my fault…

“I’m coming mum, Jesus, just hold on.”

“Ok sweetie, I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

Why was she so impatient, it’s like she WANTS to go! She shouldn’t want to, I don’t want to.

I don’t want to go…

I don’t, I don’t, I don’t I don’t I don’t I don’t…

Damien collapsed to his knees and sobbed, every tear escaping yearning for another chance at life, another chance at what never happened. He never got to graduate in front of his father’s proud eyes, he never got to get married in his presence, he never… he never…

I never got to say I love you! I wasn’t even given that! Why did you have to go!?