Created By
Rate this Story
Embed
|
+
7
|
Chapter 4 Chasing Adam |
|
+
5
|
Chapter 3 Chasing Adam |
|
+
6
|
Chapter 2 Chasing Adam |
|
+
6
|
Chapter 1 Chasing Adam |
|
Chapter 2 Chasing Adam
Drama
 Created on 1-8-07
 Views(124)
 Story Rating G
|
That’s where I come in. This simple key found the open end of my ignition and didn’t let go. At that particular moment I didn’t know if it was me who was really in control. Hard to hold on to your senses when life’s got you down on the table bound up and ready for castration. Whatever. The mind acts, and the body follows. Perhaps in this case the tables have turned.
Here goes…
Lone, dark road. Out in the middle of nowhere. Just me and the drive. It’s really been a shitty day, honestly. But it seems like every day’s pretty much been the latter end of a fucking combo beef burrito.
Pilot to co-pilot.
Shit, no co-pilot.
Speedometer reads 30…40…50…….. 90.
Who really cares? Headlights ahead. Great, another one to share the septic tank of life with little ol’ me.
me…
Where’s all the fucking attention these days. Ever since I’ve been out of Mom’s, I can’t be the little focal point of every one’s life. No one’s comin’ to see the one-man show tonight. Looks like a kick out in the streets is exactly what the doctor ordered.
But I crave it.
I need the attention. I feed off of it. Folgers in my cup is not the best part of waking up for me.
Ever since I was little, I desired any little morsel of attention I could get my grubby little hands on. Whether it be a hackneyed drawing or a little dance to wake up my tired mom’s eyes. And for the most part, she delivered. Thanks, Ma.
Later on I guess you could say it got worse. “Look at me, look what I did, did you hear my joke?” And then there were all the nights alone because no one called me. You think I’m gonna make plans with someone else when they could just vie for the chance to see me in action? No chance in hell. If you want to see me, show it. Ha, look where that got me. I’m going pedal to the metal straight toward what looks to be a semi, alone on a Saturday night, midnight—when all the town’s aglitter with smiling faces of friends, lovers, companions, even the occasional attention-whore.
Well, have you ever gotten that feeling that no one really cares? I do—All the time, actually. It’s a bitch of a feeling. Common cause of suicide, too. Horrible thing, huh? Yeah…
Hmm..
I think I’ve just gotten a grand idea. Nothing like a good, honest game of chicken with an accompanying trucker. I mean look, he’s staring me down, I can see it from here. He wants to play. Besides, if I crash, I’ll get the well-placed attention I deserve. Who’d really show up for me. That’s when everything would be about me. People who really cared would show up to see just…me. Me, when I’m whimpering in agony as the precious jaws of life break off the door to my low-level, gas-guzzling, domestic. Who would be there for me? Yeah, me… Adam Matthews—3rd cubicle, 4th door, 6th floor of the modest ten-story, cookie cutter bank building on 14th street. Yeah, Adam… that one guy…you know, from high school. He was going places. “Oh he’ll be somebody just look at him, he’s got the grades, the girl, and he’s even got the much-desired know-how to make it in this frantic world.” Know-how? Know-how to do what?
They were right, I did make it. Just like everyone else. I made it somewhere. It just so happens my somewhere was a dead-end job in middle management with the only thing to look forward to is that maybe I’d get to the 7-11 fast enough in the morning to get the fresh roast and that last sprinkled donut on the tray.
God damnit.
I was supposed to be someone, something, anything. A doctor, a lawyer, hell… maybe even a teacher, though I think I complain enough about the piss pour salary I already have.
Whew, the mind wanders. Almost lost track of where I was, but that would have been fine. But anyways, the attention garnered from this ingenious plan of mine could be compounded to even greater proportions. In the event of my “win,” there just might be a little procession solely for me. Oh yes, hopefully they’d come out in droves. Stockpiles of ultra-starched, black linens have been waiting for this day.
Well there he is, not a quarter-mile away. He’s got a look on his face like he’s got four more hours to drive, and Billy Bob’s Top Ten Country Hits just ended for the night. Ha, what a surprise, he’s got a trucker cap. Stereotyping’s a bitch.
I start to drift ever so slightly, wouldn’t want to scare him off so soon. Even the hungry alligator knows stealth’s the true hero if he wants dinner tonight.
He’s still chugging along—Stone-faced, looking straight forward. Man, he’s a good driver. I keep drifting, almost to the median now. I bet the suits down at city hall are putting up a barrier after the little fiasco I intend to cause. I can see it now, “Young adult wanders into opposing lane, killed by semi truck,” “Head-on accident kills man,” or even.. “Lonely heart looks for a way out.”
I could do it.
There’s power again, and power breeds attention. Damn that feels good. The car shakes—I’ve bypassed the median, it’s just a race to the middle now. Looks like the prey has caught on, all I hear is air horns and now the lovely sound of screeching tires.
Mouse doesn’t want to play.
I speed up. He slows down. I’ve almost reached the promised land. Looks like we’ve got a head-on collision making the round of news for the morning that no one really cares about or pays attention to. It’s just there to be seen. Another name, that’s me. But my name will be there, that is what’s important. I’m almost grille to grille, it’s go time. The engines pumping out on all cylinders, those American-made parts didn’t fail me now. Victory is soon in my grasp!
Shiiiiiiiiiiit.
Comments
Please Login to post comments
