Please Read
Warning this book contains topics that you may find sensitive. The book also includes violent crime, death, mental illness and suicide, some of which will be in graphic detail. This book is NOT for children or young people. Read at your own risk.
Standard text - when text is found like this it is the monologue or the account of the story from the main character. Chronological, unless specified that it is a memory
Italic text - when text is found in italics it is the story is being told by a narrator it is by no specific character, yet it can elaborate on their inner thoughts and feelings. It can also hide aspects of the scene from the reader, by not explaining or not showing it. It is non-chronological and will give context as to the time if it wants to.
The chapter system works like so. Book . Chapter : Chapter Name.
Since part of the novel is a monologue or thoughts, tenses (past, present and future) may become intertangled, since it is his own voice in his head. I am a novice writer so please excuse any mistakes.
With that being said, thanks, and enjoy.
1 . One : ’Entrance’
I could see my reflection in the glass, a hollow shell, a mask that permeates the world. All beings are a stain on this world, one way or another. A white mark on a black cloth, or an ink stain on a sheet. A stain of good on an evil world, or a stain of evil on a good world. People have manners of all kinds of lofty ideas, they believe they understand right and wrong. But who truly knows.
There was a light rain bellowing down from the dark heavens tonight. Gently striking the windows of the diner. My head leaned against them, giving a cool soothing touch on my cheek. It was rather quiet tonight, all I could hear was a small humming coming from the rest of the diner and a smooth and sickly rumble coming from the passing vehicles and the outside world. Here it was warm yet also refreshingly cool and calming. I lightly grabbed my cup, swirling the dark liquid inside around, the base rotating on the table’s surface. Since it was later in the day I went with my preferred style of coffee, decaf. It may seem strange but caffeine can cause me to have headaches and there are other problems that caffeine can cause. Plus, it is late and I am fond of a good night’s sleep.
I do find myself coming to this corner of the world quite often both early and late. Here there is a younger waitress, I say younger as if we are not of the same or similar age. Late teens to early twenties, however, I would side with the younger end of that spectrum. Shiny long blonde hair swayed with her movements and here she came. Bouncing along wearing a bright and glowing smile across her face. Coming towards me. “Hi.” greeting me warmly and giving a little wave as she neared my table, with an upbeat and cheeky tone. “So, how have you been, how was your day.” She asked with an attentive look in her eyes and a kind warm tone, as she sat down across the table from me. I drew my face from the window, showing a warm, sweet and kind smile partially closing my eyes in a sweet and caring way.”Nice, but slightly dull. But warmer now that you are here.” I replied in a soft and endearing manner. “Is that so.” she giggled while trying to hide the joy and excitement she was getting from the conversation.” And you… how are you?” I beckoned matching her tone and mood when she asked the question to me. “Heh, my day was..” as she cut off by a shrill. “Maria, get a move on. You have stuff to do”. That came from her manager. An older woman in her forties or fifties I would wager. She had a slight presence of grey mixed into her hair and a few wrinkles and sags plaguing her face. Overall, from what I have experienced and been told she is considered nice but a serious person. Most people would see her as a reasonable one. “Awww, sorry. But I have gotta bounce. My shift finishes soon and I need to prepare for closing. “ “Of course, no worries” I replied with a calm and warm demeanour. She got up from her seat, scooting out of the bench-style seat across from me. She only made it a few steps before spinning around to face me again. “Since my shift will be over in a few minutes, and my car broke down, maybe you could wait and we could continue our conversation” she probed with a cute and cheeky expression. I raised my head again so that our eyes met, both with warm caring expressions. As I was about to reply, the door swung open ringing the little bell. We both turned to look. An older man walked in, he was the Police chief for lack thereof the proper title. A lack because well, I couldn’t remember his official title. Cold and gritty face, a proper ‘cop’ that you would read about in old books and see in movies. Them going and saving the day, being heroes and brushing it off to go smoke a cigar. Yet that melted like a warm block of ice when he saw her. A kind warm smile came across his face mirroring very much the same smile that I had given her just a minute ago. Eyes and all. “Cupcake, hi… I came to pick you up and take you home.” She jumped at him and embraced him with a warm and caring clutch. “Dad, great to see you, did you finish your shift early”. “Yes, I did”. Their conversation radiating love and care for each other. She looks back at me, I give her a reassuring nod. She understands that I do not mind that the conversation will not continue now that she has a deadline to leave. Bouncing away, she disappears into the back of the diner.
Slowly and smoothly my head bows back to its former position, with my cheek resting on the sanctuary of the glass. Ringing through my ear the light taping of the persistent rain. Sipping at my drink as the final drop falls out. I close my eyes in a moment of serenity. Tearing me out of my quiet peace a knock as Maria’s father sits down in the same place that she sat.
I raise my head from the window and show him a smile. “Hello” I greet him with an unfamiliar yet embracing tone. He greets me in the same manner. “You and my daughter seem very familiar with each other.” He prods.
“Yes, I do come here often. I like the mood this place has.” I reply in a calm relaxing way.
“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Aaron Olson.”
“No need to apologise, Mr Olson, as did I.” I was cut off again, this seems as it might become a routine, before I could introduce myself, by a familiar voice echoing through the sitting area. Turning and then getting up, he said goodbye as did she. Both left a warmth in their wake. As did I, fixing my posture and lightly cracking my neck. Picking up my mug to return it to the counter. “I’ll get out of your hair,” I said playfully to the manager.
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“Have a nice night and get home safe boy,” she replied caringly.
Opening the door the soft and harsh pitters of the rain began striking my body. I am glad that I decided to bring my coat. Retrieving the keys from my pocket I unlock my car, hearing a familiar chime alongside it. I started my car and pulled out of the car park onto the mostly dark roads, lit by swatches of light from the nearby poles. Tirelessly, my car’s tyres scorch the road, clinging tightly. It was heavy. It was hard. It was fast. The breathing of my mechanised chariot, its limbs pumping away. Driving me forward, pulling me home. Yet so smooth and calm. I am pretty indifferent about driving, on the one hand, it is necessary for almost every task nowadays, and on the other, it requires high focus and keen attention, things that well… are tiring and needy. Learning is another thing entirety. I wouldn’t say that I would dread my driving lessons, yet I wasn’t excited for them either. Pulling up and parking, it's still raining. Ice cold rain tormented my body and clothes, swing around I opened the back door of my car and quickly reached into my backseats, collecting my bag and retrieving my umbrella. In a smooth and quick motion opening my umbrella, providing me much-needed cover. Its wings spread above me, catching the rain.
Quickly, I closed and shook my umbrella to clear off the rain. Down the walkway was my door, it sat at the end. It was a simple enough structure, a raised and covered walk way. It had no lights so, I had to be careful while fumbling around in the dark. Producing the key from my pocket I swiftly dispatched the lock and walked into my abode, closing the door behind me. Another clicking sound came when I locked it or rather myself inside. Carefully I placed my umbrella down in its designated spot, wiped my shoes on the mat and put down my bag, a briefcase thingy. Sweeping my arms I closed the curtains of all of my windows and turned on the lights.
This place is quite nice, not too big yet still plenty of space to live inside. A clean modern aesthetic, with dimmer lights, I prefer it that way, not bright and revealing. A one-bedroom, two-bathroom, one kitchen, space. I outwrite own it, no renting or leasing. Which is pretty rare for someone of my age, it wasn’t overly pricey either which was a pleasant surprise. Location-wise it is also nice, not far from several ports and several beaches, yet near to the shops and entertainment that the local area has to offer. Think of it as a coastal town that exists within a city. Our crime statistics, addresses, and the rest are shared with the city, yet there is a different air around here compared to everywhere else. It’s, cleaner, neater. A beautiful little window of the world, maybe. Yet to me, it seems not that different from everywhere else, the world like space, is homogenous, an even mix of clean and dirty.
Flicking the switch the white lights buzzed on above me. Illuminating the bathroom. I went up to the mirror and pressed the surface causing it ring light to turn on. It is a useful and interesting design, when the mirror was on it also heated the surface, removing any fog or mist that would otherwise obscure the use of the mirror. I left the bathroom, went across to another door, the door to my bedroom, pushing the handle down and turning on the light to a well-made bed, and clean and tidy table, an organised shelf and a door that led to my closet. Picking up the little bundle of clothes that lay on my bed, and taking off my tie and hanging it up. Hanging my trousers and my coat on their hangers. The light above my head buzzing like a glowing moth, casting its rays onto my neat, clean room. I meander back to my bathroom. Reaching past the glass partial door, turning the knob smoothly to the right, not touching the temperature. The water fell like rain from the head. It cried tears of clean, beautiful water down, as if it were the heavens themselves. The rain was still thick and fast, I could see it hitting the window, emerging itself from the dark haze beyond.
Stepping into its path it washed over me, through me. It seeped deep into me, its lukewarm heat running through me. I raised my face up, tilting my head back, my hair stuck to my skin as if it was ordered to. Now the soft water was striking down on my face. I opened my eyes, the water flooded my eyes, washing me out. Cleaning me out, flushing out my very soul. And washing away the dirt that existed within me. It clouded my eyes, filling them, clearing them. Doing this, it clears me, empties me. Well… not really, but this is what I imagine it could do. Who knows, who cares. I sweep my hair back, I can now fully feel the water hitting my forehead. I started by washing my body, then washed my hair, and finally washed my face. I follow this routine, every day, every night. The same temperature, the same steps. Reaching forward with my left hand, I swiftly turned the knob left. Cutting the water off, some small drips still fell, but soon after the sound was gone, it was silent once more.
I walked out, stepping over the gap and onto the mat. I had wiped myself off with my hands just after shutting off the water. Plucking the towel from the radiator, that stood to attention besides the wall. I started by drying my hair, quickly and thoroughly. I don't know if my hair is unique in this way or not, but when dry-wet it clumps, into fine small spikes or strands. Yet when dry it is large, loose, it does not clump but it lays. I wiped and rubbed the rest of my body dry. Slipping into my neatly folded clothes, like a monster slips and slithers under a bed.
Stepping through the bathroom door, my hair still damp, I grabbed the remote form the table and flicked on the TV. Spitting noise and light, the news channel buzzed on. The headline racing along the bottom. The bedraggled presenter standing in the rain, fighting against the galling wind. The rain had clearly permeated the thin coat he was wearing, he looked soaked. His hair was dark with water, it stuck to his forehead, in all exposing his thinning and receding hairline. I basked in the irony of it all. I had the choice to be dry but chose not to and he had no choice at all. The flashing blue and reds lit his face and body as if he was in an action movie, in truth I paid very little attention to it. Instead I went over to the island and fixed myself a glass of water. I slumped down into a seat and looked at the glowing screen. I was only half focused on the channel, the man spoke about a woman’s body - 34 years 58kg, that had been found in a wooded area. My ears perked up at the sound of this. The man gave loose details of the whole affair, she was reported missing a few days ago after a home invasion, it would appear that she died on that same night. I think that it is useful to know what others are doing in cases like these, it could yield some useful information. Then it flicked back to the station. The two anchors began babbling about something or other. I grabbed the remote again and silence and extinguished the TV. I got up, walked and placed my now empty glass on the counter. Went to the other side and washed it. I placed the glass back in its place. I went to my bedroom, closing the door behind me, the handle making a metallic clink as it closed.
The light orange-yellow light lit the room in a hazy way, this was the lamp next to my bed rather than the overheads that I had used before. It gave the room a cozy air about it. Slipping into bed and lifting a book from my shelf, I began reading to kill the time. Closing the book and marking the page in my mind. Flicking the light off, as the clock struck 2200. Perfectly in order as all things should be. Some Things may seem to be chaos, but there is both order in chaos and chaos in order, to accept one and reject the other would be like accepting one face of a coin and rejecting the other. Or that's what I think at least. Laying my head back onto my pillow, drifting off to sleep waiting for tomorrow.