Flared Out in the Downside-Up Exposé

*NOTE: the full story is arranged into four columns, Senses, Actions, Words and Thoughts. The following is the column expressing the character's Thoughts...

THE VIEW

My thoughts are all I am. Another sip to ease everything. I am not a drunk, no-no, by no means no. It’s just this feeling opens me up; a transparent magnet to everything…the “ease” splitting me apart with the pleasures and pains. Be careful not to spill, there’s only so much. Nothing of this world is without limitations.
These flickers of energy all across the sky line are so…unearth. It’s a need that won’t let up, integrated into our being. There is no escape. People move, flux, move back, stand still, and move back again, unaware that the city doesn’t care under the spell of a forgotten night. Step back from it all and all you will find is a lifeless stillness.
This darkness has never really crossed my intake, especially amidst these graves. Peculiar, the paranormal used to deliver terror and torment, but now it only pricks a single hair. I suppose some change has no derivative…it just happens lacking any motive of inspiring concern. I like that change. I like the external dangers. There is just something about takeover from the inside out that frightens me…an unnecessary deterrent of life. The frustrations of a taunted harm become my power and sinister satisfaction. When potential destruction is conjured up to this by personal choice, well, that’s freedom. Is it not? Freedom to control what is everything…what entertains this.
And once again I find my place. The reassurance of familiarity may be false, but at least it’s just; broken glass cannot be reassembled, but at least it can be melted down and made into the bottle it used to be…even the latter is still a home for liquid. Ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignora
nce…ignorance…ignorance…i- gnorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…

THE FLASHBACK

I’ve only taken it out of its box once before. I don’t like doing it because if my dad found out I would be in a lot of trouble. But June is my best friend and I’m pretty sure she’ll like it a lot. The feeling I got when I held it last time was very, very weird. I can’t really explain it. Dad took me to the range a month ago and I got to see him use it. I paid close attention because he said it was not a toy and should be taken very seriously. He said never ever touch it, not until I was old enough…responsible I think he said.
Oh, I don’t like this feeling, but I already told June I’d show her. I’m a boy and I can’t let her know I’m scared. There is no turning back now. I spent all day trying to get dad’s keys because he always keeps the box locked. He doesn’t know I found the box, but then again he doesn’t know a lot of the things I know. People think that just because I’m ten I can’t do what they can do. What is this that stops me from doing the things I want? There shouldn’t be any, and that’s why I do thing’s I shouldn’t be doing.
Here we go, the box is open. I don’t remember my heart beating this fast last time…maybe it’s because June is here. She’s always listening to her mom. I hope she likes it.
I once was watching the T.V. and saw a man in the army with the exact same gun as my dad. I knew I wasn’t allowed to watch the show, but I did it anyways. He was in a dirty room that was dripping with water. There was a table in the center of the room and two chairs. He was standing behind one of the chairs and a terrorist was tied to the other. The army man was yelling and the man tied to the chair just kept shaking his head. Then, the army man pulled out his gun, the same one my dad has, and pointed it at the terrorist. He shot the gun at the poor man’s head and watched him die.
Ignorance…ignorance...ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…
Why did the gun fire? Why did the gun fire? I took all the bullets out, I didn’t pull back. This can’t be happening…June. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, please June, wake up...

THE VIEW AGAIN:

…Never-ceasing, in a flurry of everything I hate about this. Was it a mistake? No, no, these drunken hallucinations can’t be true…but I remember so clearly. Mistakes; some sort of realization of the self that cannot be reversed but is over analyzed to the point of extinction…it’s always there. I don’t care what they say it’s my fucking life…I’ll take it the way I want to, veer it down this winding road that never stops to reiterate those mistrakes. Or were they mistakes? I don’t think so, the distance between mistake and dire intention: intention that is completely accepted. Out sprints the fastest gamma particle cruising across this drunken oblivion…yeah…I can see them, each and every one…but still, I cannot determine this evil transitory state of “flashbacks.” Am I evil? Am I good? Do I only circumvent this evil so as to project good into the sensory stimuli of the enemy; all of you. I’m not quite certain…may your dreams be happy…that’s what I tell them…be careful to not let the bed bugs…nestled in the covers…that’s what I say…But the sun shines and I am still swimming in evil’s sub-melody-bridge of transition….solemn….without direction…a switch turned on-off, but never fading. If only I could focus this evil outwards to understanding! And there it goes…playing with my cover again…an evil that must be alleviated for substance to contradict its personality…what for? If evil is the true nature of my being than why should I fend off its stipulation? I shouldn’t, evil is I. Evil is my…………this. And I shall never, for as long as I sustain this, take it for a zero. For I know, I know, up on this church structure of mass manipulation…more whiskey...................................I may lay here all I want, and still the brilliance of guilt will not outshine the evil from which it suffers. It is this evil that will suffice my Monday to Tuesday, Friday to Wednesday, praying for Sunday and so on…ignorance…ignorance…ignorance…