The Lifeline of the American
This short story tells the life of a pill head who learns a valuable lesson about drugs on his way home from an excon hobo.
The sound of a gun going off made me jumped as I walked along the streets of New York City on the way home from work. I am a construction worker with a low pay check that is gone at the end of the week due to the bills, rent and pills I sent it on. I am a depressed pill-head with a seven year old boy and a beautiful wife. It normally takes me about half an hour to walk home, but that day it took me a few hours. The gun-shots are common to hear in these streets, but something told me to look for where it was coming from. At first I only saw the normal things you see in New York; hookers on the streets and taxis going by. Then my eyes fell on an area surrounded by cops and Medics. Cops had their guns out pointing up at an apartment at a man who was holding a gun to himself. A few steps away Medics was caring an injured girl. It broke my heart to see this, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the crime scene, as I grew afraid for the girl's sake. Then a man sitting on the curve spoke to me, bringing my attention to him.
"She was trying to run away from him again," his voice was deep and mellow. I looked down seeing his eyes focusing on the girl being carried away. I sat down beside him, trying hard not to breathe in his odor. I took a look at him carefully; his clothes were covered with a vial smell. His hair was as long and greasy as his thick beard. His eyes switched onto me, "No one bothers to help her as her father beats her to death; people can hear her screams and cries, but no one seems to care." I took another look at her, she was laying there on the ambulance's bed; she wouldn't leave. I could hear her shout out to the Medics that she wanted to see her father get down safely first, so they kept her there for a few more minutes. I turned back to him seeing that his gray eyes were still on me.
"Why didn't you help her when she needed it then? It is very hypocritical to say something like that if you don't at least try either." The man looks at me with a bit of shame on his old and wrinkled face.
"Because I am too old to face a man that size; tempting to help her could end my life," He fiddled with his wrinkled hands, looking down at them. My eyes flipped off the old man and onto the crime scene, hearing another gun-shot hit the hair; the girl's father was on the concrete bloodless. They must have shot the gun off to scare him down; instead he fell forward, hitting the ground. Though the girl's father wasn't dead or bleeding, his right leg seemed broken along with a few more bones in his middle aged body. The world seemed to pause as the Medics took them both away. For a moment all I could see was the girl with her little head looking towards me with a smile. I smiled back, I prayed she will be okay and end up in a better home soon, but my prayers don't help much. As the Medics drove away with the little girl and the dad people's eyes turned away. I looked at the old man; he had tears rolling down his gray eyes. He took a deep breath in then out, while wiping his tears away. He looked down at the ground then at me. "I used to be like that guy; cruel, crazy, hooked on drugs and abusive. I was worse though, I really did beat her to death." My eyes widen; I looked at him puzzled. This wasn't your normal old folks' kind of story you hear them tell over and over again.
"Her?" I asked with curiosity. He kept his eyes down, fiddling with his hands.
"My ex-wife," he said to me. "I was addicted to Morphine back in my day. I took it so much that I put my family in debt. She knew about this, it hurt her so bad, but I couldn't help myself. She begged me to get help, but I just couldn't. I use to hit her, put her in the hospital a few times. She and I had children together a three year old boy at the time and two 7 year old girls, but after what I did they denied me as their father," His voice began to crack as he quietly cried. "One day I came home and her bags were packed, she was grabbing the kids as I walked in. she kept telling me she's sorry and she loves me so much but she couldn't take the abuse. I snapped and pulled out a gun on her. I killed her right in front of my children," My eyes widen at his story of shameful past. Why was he telling me this? Was it to teach me some lesson that would change my life forever, or was it to kill his guilt hidden inside him? "It was the Morphine that turned me into a killer. I just couldn't control myself that day. I will forever hate myself for the sins I did," then he quickly changed the subject. "Do you have a family waiting for you at home Sonny?" I nodded with a smile.
"I'm married to my high school sweetheart; we have a nine year old boy." He looked up at me with a smile.
"This may be forward Sonny, but do you take illegal medications or drugs," I began to shake and fiddle with my hands. I randomly began to feel sick to my stomach; I guess I was nervous or just afraid to tell him the truth. Yet as my mouth open to feed him a lie he smirked. "No need to answer now, I can tell what your answer is by your reaction to the question. You don't seem like a drug addict, so what pills do you take," I looked down onto the ground with great shame in myself, then pulled out the pills in my coat pocket. I held out a few pills in the palm of my left hand without taking another look at him. I felt his dark gray eyes on me as I place them back into my pocket. "Why?" He asked me. I stumbled upon his question then took a deep breath in then slowly I let it out.
"I'm losing everything I have. My job gives me a low pay and my bills are high. I'm losing my home and I can't afford the things my son wants little alone food and clothing for him and my wife. My son deserves a better life then this, a life that I can't afford to give him. So I take these pills to make me go numb, so that when I come home from work I can put a smile on my face and seem strong." He huffed then put his wrinkling hands on my shoulder then spoke,
"Do you really think your son and wife deserves this kind of man in their life? Do you think they'd want this? They wouldn't Sonny. Pills may take the pain away now, but soon it will cause you even more pain in your life." His words were wise and it made me feel even more ashamed of myself then I already am. I looked at him; tears came rolling down my face "You're right," I mumbled to him, he gave me a smile. "This isn't the kind of man I want to be. This isn't the kind of man id want my son to be." He smiled once again then gave me a look old people seem to give quit often.
"Get rid of them," he said to me. I fiddle with the pills in my coat pocket staring back down at the ground. "Sonny it's for the best." I held the pills once again in my hand then took a look at them. I thought of my wife, Sarah and my son, Jacoby; this isn't what I want to be. I took the pills threw the pills down them stomped on them. A smile came to my face as I stood up to begin to walk home. I took out a five dollar bill then handed it to him and began to walk away.
"Thank you." I said to him.
I reached the front door to my trailer thinking of that life learned lesson a stranger in the streets taught me. I peeked through the window seeing Sarah with her arms wrapped around Jacoby watching TV. I stepped inside with a real smile onto my face. Sarah's beautiful face lit up with a gorgeous smile. "Baby," She said to me with her sweet angel like voice. "You're home finally." I smiled then kissed her lips.
"I'm sorry, I love you Sarah." She smiles then curls herself into my arms.
"I love you too." I said to her honesty.
I laid there in my bed beside my beautiful wife thinking to myself; what is the point of living if you're not who you want to be if you are the one person standing in your way of becoming who you want to be and create a life you want to live? Drugs may make you forget your pain, turn you numb and make you happy but it all ends after a few hours. Soon what made you feel good for a while will crash and turn you into a monster and cause you to lose the things you do love about your life. Life is what you make it. You are what you made yourself become. So take the things that matter to you and make it your whole world and avoid the drugs. You don't want to become a monster. It's funny that I learned all this from a stranger on the streets, maybe you'll take his story and pass it down and teach someone a lesson that can change their life.
Inspired by: "Lifeline" by Papa Roach and Ben!
"She was trying to run away from him again," his voice was deep and mellow. I looked down seeing his eyes focusing on the girl being carried away. I sat down beside him, trying hard not to breathe in his odor. I took a look at him carefully; his clothes were covered with a vial smell. His hair was as long and greasy as his thick beard. His eyes switched onto me, "No one bothers to help her as her father beats her to death; people can hear her screams and cries, but no one seems to care." I took another look at her, she was laying there on the ambulance's bed; she wouldn't leave. I could hear her shout out to the Medics that she wanted to see her father get down safely first, so they kept her there for a few more minutes. I turned back to him seeing that his gray eyes were still on me.
"Why didn't you help her when she needed it then? It is very hypocritical to say something like that if you don't at least try either." The man looks at me with a bit of shame on his old and wrinkled face.
"Because I am too old to face a man that size; tempting to help her could end my life," He fiddled with his wrinkled hands, looking down at them. My eyes flipped off the old man and onto the crime scene, hearing another gun-shot hit the hair; the girl's father was on the concrete bloodless. They must have shot the gun off to scare him down; instead he fell forward, hitting the ground. Though the girl's father wasn't dead or bleeding, his right leg seemed broken along with a few more bones in his middle aged body. The world seemed to pause as the Medics took them both away. For a moment all I could see was the girl with her little head looking towards me with a smile. I smiled back, I prayed she will be okay and end up in a better home soon, but my prayers don't help much. As the Medics drove away with the little girl and the dad people's eyes turned away. I looked at the old man; he had tears rolling down his gray eyes. He took a deep breath in then out, while wiping his tears away. He looked down at the ground then at me. "I used to be like that guy; cruel, crazy, hooked on drugs and abusive. I was worse though, I really did beat her to death." My eyes widen; I looked at him puzzled. This wasn't your normal old folks' kind of story you hear them tell over and over again.
"Her?" I asked with curiosity. He kept his eyes down, fiddling with his hands.
"My ex-wife," he said to me. "I was addicted to Morphine back in my day. I took it so much that I put my family in debt. She knew about this, it hurt her so bad, but I couldn't help myself. She begged me to get help, but I just couldn't. I use to hit her, put her in the hospital a few times. She and I had children together a three year old boy at the time and two 7 year old girls, but after what I did they denied me as their father," His voice began to crack as he quietly cried. "One day I came home and her bags were packed, she was grabbing the kids as I walked in. she kept telling me she's sorry and she loves me so much but she couldn't take the abuse. I snapped and pulled out a gun on her. I killed her right in front of my children," My eyes widen at his story of shameful past. Why was he telling me this? Was it to teach me some lesson that would change my life forever, or was it to kill his guilt hidden inside him? "It was the Morphine that turned me into a killer. I just couldn't control myself that day. I will forever hate myself for the sins I did," then he quickly changed the subject. "Do you have a family waiting for you at home Sonny?" I nodded with a smile.
"I'm married to my high school sweetheart; we have a nine year old boy." He looked up at me with a smile.
"This may be forward Sonny, but do you take illegal medications or drugs," I began to shake and fiddle with my hands. I randomly began to feel sick to my stomach; I guess I was nervous or just afraid to tell him the truth. Yet as my mouth open to feed him a lie he smirked. "No need to answer now, I can tell what your answer is by your reaction to the question. You don't seem like a drug addict, so what pills do you take," I looked down onto the ground with great shame in myself, then pulled out the pills in my coat pocket. I held out a few pills in the palm of my left hand without taking another look at him. I felt his dark gray eyes on me as I place them back into my pocket. "Why?" He asked me. I stumbled upon his question then took a deep breath in then slowly I let it out.
"I'm losing everything I have. My job gives me a low pay and my bills are high. I'm losing my home and I can't afford the things my son wants little alone food and clothing for him and my wife. My son deserves a better life then this, a life that I can't afford to give him. So I take these pills to make me go numb, so that when I come home from work I can put a smile on my face and seem strong." He huffed then put his wrinkling hands on my shoulder then spoke,
"Do you really think your son and wife deserves this kind of man in their life? Do you think they'd want this? They wouldn't Sonny. Pills may take the pain away now, but soon it will cause you even more pain in your life." His words were wise and it made me feel even more ashamed of myself then I already am. I looked at him; tears came rolling down my face "You're right," I mumbled to him, he gave me a smile. "This isn't the kind of man I want to be. This isn't the kind of man id want my son to be." He smiled once again then gave me a look old people seem to give quit often.
"Get rid of them," he said to me. I fiddle with the pills in my coat pocket staring back down at the ground. "Sonny it's for the best." I held the pills once again in my hand then took a look at them. I thought of my wife, Sarah and my son, Jacoby; this isn't what I want to be. I took the pills threw the pills down them stomped on them. A smile came to my face as I stood up to begin to walk home. I took out a five dollar bill then handed it to him and began to walk away.
"Thank you." I said to him.
I reached the front door to my trailer thinking of that life learned lesson a stranger in the streets taught me. I peeked through the window seeing Sarah with her arms wrapped around Jacoby watching TV. I stepped inside with a real smile onto my face. Sarah's beautiful face lit up with a gorgeous smile. "Baby," She said to me with her sweet angel like voice. "You're home finally." I smiled then kissed her lips.
"I'm sorry, I love you Sarah." She smiles then curls herself into my arms.
"I love you too." I said to her honesty.
I laid there in my bed beside my beautiful wife thinking to myself; what is the point of living if you're not who you want to be if you are the one person standing in your way of becoming who you want to be and create a life you want to live? Drugs may make you forget your pain, turn you numb and make you happy but it all ends after a few hours. Soon what made you feel good for a while will crash and turn you into a monster and cause you to lose the things you do love about your life. Life is what you make it. You are what you made yourself become. So take the things that matter to you and make it your whole world and avoid the drugs. You don't want to become a monster. It's funny that I learned all this from a stranger on the streets, maybe you'll take his story and pass it down and teach someone a lesson that can change their life.
Inspired by: "Lifeline" by Papa Roach and Ben!
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