"My Recent Life and Death"

"My Recent Life and Death"
By: A Teenager


AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is often said that each character in a story is in some way like his creator, the author. While I am sure that I do share some similarities with many of my characters, including the one in this story, I want to be clear that the character in this story is NOT me. It is written in the first person for dramatic literary effect, and not to insinuate that the person telling the story is yours truly. Enjoy.



         I’ll let you know right now this isn’t going to be anything pretty. In fact it’s rather revolting, and yet there’s something so addictive, something which continues to grab me and take me back. I want to forget. But I can’t. I want to leave. But I won’t.


         This is a story about one man’s descent into hell. That man of course, is me. Now I understand hell is quite the place-I should know seeing as I’ve been there-but the most frightening thing is that hell is a human creation. Perhaps I didn’t want to go there, or decide to go there, but deep down something within me had to chose hell. It’s an easy thing to do, an easy mistake to make. But Goddammit if it isn’t the most self-centered thing a man can do.
         Oh no surely you didn’t think I meant Hell. I only meant it as in, well, someplace, something, a state you arrive at when you’ve totally lost control. No, no I don’t mess with that supernatural stuff- its not really for me. Mom and Dad marched me religiously (and there’s no pun intended) to Church week after week. The hubris of religious doctrine (or is it dogma) became altogether sickening and revolting to me. So as all teenagers do daily, I said, “Fuck it.” Best decision I ever made.

         Interestingly you’d think that once I started living my life my own way things would have gotten easier. In retrospect I suppose that was the self-seeking, egotistic teenager speaking within me. Life is never easy, especially not on your own. But there I was at 17. I knew it all, yet I knew nothing. It’s quite a beautiful age. Millions of kids running around, hormones driving them to fuck any and everything they can get their hands on without a drop of common sense in their cold veins. I suppose I can thank that same old God who sent his son to die for me. What a nice gesture. Too bad he forgot about my dad…and my sister. I suppose it was just fate that got them killed as they walked innocently down the street. ‘Cause you know, everything happens for a reason. So once again, thanks God.

         As I was saying, before the religion-bashing tangent, I’ve always been a little bit shocked and a lot pissed about how my life turned out. Soon as I split from home at that golden age of 17, life got damn rough. I made a couple friends. They were as friendly as people can be I imagine. We smoked a bit every night. No, not cigarettes. We’d grab a beer from Dave’s house every now and then. At the time this seemed to be the life. I even found a job-a shithole job- but a job nonetheless. $6.25 and hour at a local video store.

          “Tuesday by noon,” ma’am (bitch).

         If I were still hung-over or a bit wasted I’d slip a porno into the little kid’s movie cases. This was my entertainment. My life. My way of flipping the bird right back at society and our Dear Sweet Father in Heaven.

         It’s rather pathetic now that I look back on it. Drinking and smoking is some existence. Then again, it was little existence at all on $6.25 an hour. You’d think, not going to school and all, I’d have plenty of time for work. But no way man, it was all about partying, sex, shooting up (this was new). Partying at this point included the aforementioned drugs, alcohol, and my new romance, porno-flicks. The job at the video store, while it provided no social benefits or health-care plans, had this one perk. I could get any movie, any time, free. This would have presented a temptation for any man of any age. But for a 17 year-old druggie who wanted to be shit-ass cool with his friends, porn was the only thing that mattered. So thus I descended further.

         It wasn’t long before all the porn, jerkin’-off, drugs, and alcohol was not enough to satisfy. Happiness has an insatiable appetite. I should have recognized this. But shit man, I knew everything, right? So I continued to party. Parties now included lots of rock music. What had I been missing? Seems like this is a rather tame addition to my palate of destruction. However with rock music comes groupies. Finally, I thought, I might land a good fuck, or a hundred.

         I had absolutely no clue what I had been missing. I don’t suppose it ever registered with me how incredible sex is. Society is built on it. Everyone wants it. I mean they might be afraid to admit it. But give ‘em a beer or a joint and a bed and you’re in. Then you’re out. And it’s on to the next one.

         Now I was finally content. I had every object that I could afford, and even some which I could not. (What’s the big deal about stealing anyway?) Again the inevitable happened. My desires to get the hell away from my old, sheltered life had been satisfied, but my obsession with the edge of reality was only just beginning.

         You shovel enough marijuana, nicotine, alcohol, and cum into or out of something and its bound to get fucked up in some way or another. This is precisely what happened to me. Vague? Allow me to explain.

         Somewhere among my view of women as objects, my compulsive addiction to illegal substances, and my unquenchable libido I found a new yearning. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, couldn’t quite describe it. But when Madison walked into my life I immediately knew what had to be done. Fuck, she was gorgeous. You poke enough girls and they all start to look the same, especially when you got more coke than red blood cells running through you. But to see one that was this beautiful without an ounce of shit in my veins was truly a thing to remember. And so remember it I did.

         Oddly enough it was at my old church. I was making a deal there with a new druggie. I had quit my video-store job seeing as trafficking is far more profitable than real jobs and having sex is far better than watching it. Madison walked around a corner just as I was leaving my usual spot. She bumped into me. Her gorgeous face looked up at me and for once I didn’t think “Yeah I’d hit that,” or “shit no.” In stead I just looked and wondered how God could make something so beautiful. Oddly, it was the first time God had crossed my mind in months. I nearly got the idea he was trying to speak to me. But that’s just more teenager bullshit.

          “H-Hey I’m Luke…”

          “Madison.”

         She extended her hand. My God it was soft.

          “Never seen you around here,” I said.

          “Yeah I was here to meet someone, but doesn’t look like they’re showing.”
          “That’s shit.”

         She laughed. It was angelic.

         Now this was all I could take. The diplomacy was wearing off. I wanted this girl. I wanted it to be beautiful and special. But I wanted it now.

         The back of my car made do. It only took about four more words for me to seduce her. Being 18 at this point I assuredly had the air of mystery and sexiness about me. Girls love mature guys right?

          “You look so hot…”

         This was all it took. She leaned in and I bent down and kissed her. My tongue slipped into her warm mouth and pressed against the roof her mouth. I slid it out. She looked astonished. She was breathing incredibly fast. I looked down and saw her nipples were sticking out of her shirt. I reached my hand up and grabbed her left tit. Fuck it felt incredible.

          “We can’t do this here,” I said.

         She had this look which said, “do what?” I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head with a coy smile and she got the message. We started walking towards my car.

         Once I had her in the back seat she was lost somewhere between euphoria and complete fear. She cried a bit. I know it had to hurt her, being only 13 and all. Now some may have described it as rape. She didn’t really want me to take it out though. She told me afterwards she liked it. She was crying. She liked it though, I could tell.

         Madison looked at her watch and said her mom would be coming back to pick her up fairly soon. I offered to give her a ride home, but she declined. I kissed her one last time. She sealed her lips as my tongue hit them. I was hurt. She didn’t want to exchange numbers. It was the best experience of my short 18-year life, and yet I found myself more hurt, more depressed after she left than ever before.

         I sat down in my car. In fact this is where I find myself now. Cum is drying on my shorts and Madison left not 45 minutes ago. Perhaps its that she seemed so uninterested, so distant afterwards. Something makes me want to rip out my heart and just die right here and now. I don’t think I’m capable of guilt, much less sorrow or love. I’ve jaded myself to society and all its normalcy. But fuck that, who needs it. I’m realizing now that this paradise I made for myself truly is more like hell. I made it, made my bed, and now I’m going to lie in it, flames and all.
         I’m grabbing a needle. I hope its got shit in it. Ah, some luck at last. In it goes. I can already feel a bit of relief. See its funny how I think this is relieving. I know deep down inside I’m dead. There isn’t nothing left in me. There isn’t a bit of goodness, there isn’t a bit of me left in me. I’m so many people that I’m no one. I’ve lost myself trying to find myself. Shit I’m getting philosophical. I need a joint. Light. Inhale. I remember what mommy said to me when daddy died. Something about “don’t ever lose sight of the important things in life.” Ok, well whatever. Bet she’s dead now too. Has it only been 8 months? Inhale. Suddenly I see some fuck-o up at my spot. Did I forget a deal? Jesus he’s got a gun. No, fuck I don’t have a clue. Inhale. “We can’t do this here,” I said. Inhale. Good pot. Cum’s dried now. “Never seen you around here,” I said. Inhale. Exhale.