Teenage Dirtbag - Introduction
Shiloh
walked up the steps to his house. He was relieved that he ended up here, not
somewhere unfamiliar. The pounding in his head reminded him of how much he had
to drink tonight at his graduation party.
What
a joke. He thought it was ridiculous how much everyone cried. Frequent wishes
of never wanting to be apart, yearbook signings that could be their own
separate novels – even Rich ended up sobbing during the latter part of the
night. Shiloh knew from his sister’s experience that those feelings would
disappear within a couple of months. Soon everyone would be making friends at
their new colleges and would completely forget about the ones they had in high
school.
The
warm evening breeze was nice and welcoming. Summer was just around the corner –
the last one he would have before entering the grown up world. He stepped foot
inside his house, the smell of dinner still lingering throughout.
“Shiloh!”
exclaimed his mother in a bright, high-pitched tone. She was amused to see her
son jump in surprise at the shock of her still being awake at this hour. Mr.
Carver sat in his usual chair in the living room, a small and slightly smug
smile playing across his lips.
“You…
guys are still awake?” Shiloh asked suspiciously.
“Yes!
Well see, we wanted to talk to you. And really, today couldn’t have been a more
perfect day. I mean with you graduating, and everyone happy-,”
“So
you guys stayed up late to tell me?” The
alcohol was making Shiloh slightly nauseous. Whatever his mother was about to
tell him, she needed tell it to him fast.
“Yes,
I mean, it’s important news. You see your father and I are getting a divorce.”
Now
he really felt sick. He mindlessly nodded his head as his mother went on and on
about how this was a mutual decision, how they both were happy to make this
choice. Their lives were going in different directions, and really everything
would be so much better this way. The lady could talk.
“Excuse
me,” Shiloh gasped as he ran to the bathroom. That alcohol was not going to
stay down.
As
he sat on the linoleum floor, all Shiloh could think of was pure anger. How
could his parents do this? Why did they sound so darn happy about it all?
Divorce was a horrible thing, and this one certainly went under his nose. He
didn’t even find his mother and father to be dysfunctional. They always seemed
to click together in ways most other couples did.
He
kept thinking it over. Thirty years of being together. You would have thought
if they could last that long, they could certainly last the rest of their
lives. That’s why couples said “I do” on their wedding day. To be together
forever. It just didn’t make sense. Why now? How could they think that telling
him today would be perfect, as opposed to any other day? His mother knocked on
the door.
“Shiloh,
are you okay?” The thin wooden door couldn’t filter her loud, screechy voice.
Shiloh cringed, and allowed himself to open the door.
“Yes.”
“I’ll
go grab a washcloth,” winced his mother. She must have smelt the residue of
vomit on his lip. Shiloh looked over at his father, still sitting in his chair.
“Are
you really getting divorced, dad?” He walked a few steps closer.
“Yes.
You’ve heard your mother.”
A
hint of sadness played over his father’s eyes. It was obvious the divorce
wasn’t entirely as mutual as his mother made it out to be. Shiloh nodded his
head in understanding and made his way over to his room, a suitcase and his
savings in mind.
Shiloh
dragged himself to his room, the thick brown carpet beneath his feet not
necessarily helping. As he reached his room, his arms suddenly latched out,
opening the dresser drawer, grabbing his suitcase, snatching clothes here and there.
Some were scattered on the floor from this morning when he was pondering over
what to wear to his graduation. Odd how his graduation was the last place he
felt a part of this small town.
“What
are you doing?” his mother screeched, eyes as big as saucers. She came to his
bedroom door with a moist washcloth in hand, only to find that her son was now
obviously packing to leave. But where?
“I
gotta get out of here,” Shiloh replied in a rushed voice, frantically peering
around his room to check if he had missed anything. He nodded to himself in
assurance before pushing past his mother towards the bathroom in order to
retrieve his toothbrush and deodorant.
“Shiloh
this is crazy! Why are you doing this?”
Shiloh
could hear the floor creaking as his mother caught up to him. Everything he
needed was in the suitcase now. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as
his hand checked his back pocket. Good. His wallet was still there.
“I
don’t want to stay here anymore.”
He
meant to match his exasperated tone from earlier, but was surprised when it
came out more like a sigh. His reflection in the mirror was horrible.
Definitely had a little bit too much to drink today. Definitely didn’t need to
be here. The thought of sitting in court as his parents tried to politely pick
their way through divorce made the slight taste of vomit reach his lips once
more.
“And
where exactly do you think you’ll go?”
Shiloh
was now in the living room. Of course his father hadn’t moved, but he wasn’t
exactly looking as confident as he had a few minutes ago, either. Shiloh’s mind
went blank. His mother, father, him. They looked like a family. They functioned
as a family. But deep inside Shiloh already knew that before today his family
was already falling apart. There were already so many reasons.
It
could have been because his mom cheated those years ago with his dad’s boss. It
could have been because he kept continuously fighting with them both, slowly
breaking the ties with them. It could have been because his sister Jamie
dropped out of college, the one both of his parents had worked so hard to pay
tuition for. It really could have been any of those things.
“I’ll
move in with Jamie.”
“Jamie?”
his mother scoffed, wiping a sweaty palm across her forehead. His father looked
up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Jamie was a touchy subject. After she had
quit college to move in with her rock star of a boyfriend, his parents didn’t
really know what to expect of her. Shiloh nodded at the both of them.
“But…
Jamie? She – She’s living with that rock star guy. And the other one – the one
who’s suicidal!”
Shiloh
wasn’t in the mood to argue. Although he did have to agree with his mother on
the odd choice of roommates his sister chose.
“I
don’t care. Anywhere’s better than here.”
His
mother cracked a small smile.
“Shiloh.
You don’t have a car. And what about college?”
“I’ll
go to college after the summer’s over. And I’ll take the bus.”
For
once Shiloh loved the shocked look on his mother’s face. Serves her right for
making him just as shocked minutes before. He gave a wink before slinging the
suitcase around his shoulders, the door now being the only thing to separate
him from the unknown.
“Good
luck, son,” he heard his father say before he walked into the cool night air.
“Where’s
Elijah?” asked Salem as he leaned back in his computer chair, two pairs of eyes
turning from him to each other.
“Told
you he wouldn’t come unless we mentioned Elijah,” whispered one of them.
“I
can hear you , you know. Hearing aid not working?” smirked Salem. The pair of
eyes widened and turned to him again. They had been caught. One of them had an
uneasy look on their face.
Salem
was feeling as uncomfortable as the agent looked. All he could think was that
it was a good thing he was at least surrounded by people. This morning he was –
for no reason – the happiest he had ever been in a long time. And with a rise
like that also came a fall. One he as preparing for. Once again he regretted
never taking the lithium he had gotten from the doctor’s office months ago.
‘But
it makes music writing so much better,’ he had told himself several times.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt this. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here
in a music studio, talking to agents who specifically wanted to share great
news with the band. Or in case, him. And why wasn’t Elijah here? Elijah was
lead, he was only the back-up.
“See
kid, we want YOU,” one of the agents pronounced clearly. Not the one who looked
uneasy. In fact, he seemed to be a little intimidated by Salem, as most people
often were unless they were fifteen and female.
“What
do you mean?” Salem asked. He was in a band. A very popular band. Where could
the agents be possibly going with this?
“I
don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mr. Slater, but your concert numbers have grown
substantially. Ever wonder why?”
“No?”
“Well,”
began the agent, “think about it. You joined Elijah’s band only a year ago. You
both wrote new songs. Three of your songs were put into the new album. Those
three songs are chart-toppers now. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that the
concert numbers have grown, because obviously it isn’t because of Elijah… it’s
because of YOU.”
Salem
sat there, the agents staring at him like a piece of candy. His mind tried to
wrap around what they had just told him. They want HIM. Not Eli. That’s why he
wasn’t here. Why he was here by himself. The agents wanted to break up the
band. Or better yet, start a new band with him in the lead. Pressure flooded
into his head as if a dam had been broken through. Tonight was not going to be
good. He already knew. And he didn’t want to be here, not with these people.
Not with these sick, sly people.
“No,
absolutely not.”
Salem
slammed the computer chair to the floor, shoving himself between the two agents
as they looked onward, the question “why” quivering on their lips. It was too
late however, Salem was clearly never coming back.
By
the time Salem made it back to the apartment, his head was spinning. Tears
began slipping down his cheeks and all he wanted to do was to crawl in a
corner, perhaps on his bed and just stay there forever. Maybe if Jamie and Eli
spontaneously decided to go on a vacation for the weekend, he could get away
with starving to death. But what a painful way to go.
‘No!’
he mentally told himself. Dying wasn’t going to solve anything. But the pain
had come so quickly, so much different than what he had felt this morning, when
he felt like he could do anything. Quickly he scrambled to the kitchen. Tea?
Coffee? Something had to help. His tears were now making their own miniature
flood on the linoleum floor, causing him to slide a little.
Then
he saw it. A bottle of vodka sitting out the open – probably Eli’s. It was a
bad idea and he knew it, but he reached for the bottle anyways and began to
chug. The sting of the alcohol pouring down his throat paralleled the pins and
needles that scoured his mind. He went from sober to buzzed to flat out drunk
in just moments. His feet began to slip, but he was too slow to react as the
bottle dropped from his hands, shattering completely all over the floor.
Salem
looked on at the mess he had just made. The shards of glass reflected the moon
so perfectly and it contrasted well with the flow of crimson extending from his
foot, which he realized was now stinging from being cut open from the glass.
Clumsily,
he picked up the shard, but realized he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel his
fingers, really, much less the upper half of his body in general. He shakily
smacked his hands, his face, his arms, and couldn’t feel a thing. The last
thing he remembered was holding the glass to his left forearm, before his world
turned black. He was sure he was sleeping, and dreamt that his arms were
covered in crimson, a faint scream heard in the distance.
END OF INTRODUCTION.
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