The Abandoned Child

A man recounts his selfish and evil life only to discover he has a heart that bleeds. Please find the letter Jack wrote titled "Heart of Broken Glass" in my writing list.

Jack sat in Lous Tavern, Hotel California was playing, fitting the dark and dank hideout reminiscent of a hell. The lighting was poor, the wretched smell of vomit and stale beer and cigarettes filled each nauseating breath. One would be left to wonder when the table had last been wiped clean. Lifting his glass of Makers Mark, the ice rattled the tumbler as he took a swig. The cool ice numbed his lips as he wiped his moustache dry. Stretching his legs, his tanned leather boots were worn and scuffed, a sign of the man he was. He lit his cigarette with his silver lighter, the one that matched his ring. He had placed his jacket at the side and rushed his fingers through his short and curly hair, he was anxious and breathing quicker than normal. His eyes were sunk, a phantom and though once tanned his skin was now pale and patched. He stroked his moustache as his thoughts became clear, he knew what he needed to do. He took a silver pen out of his jean pocket and laid paper out on the stained and sticky table. He closed his eyes as he collected his words. He revealed his dark brown pupils symbolic of an unearthly werewolf. Upon opening his eyes he took a deep breath and began to write the letter.

Born in 1954, Jack grew up in a rural village, his family and the community weren't rich. They had the bare necessities for clothes, shelter and food. Meat on the menu was seen as a treat otherwise it was just lentils, rice and beans on the dinner plate. The village had a small population and everyone knew each other well. He was known to the community, mainly for stealing often. As a result he was constantly reprimanded by his parents and the village elders. Frequently blood would drip from his flesh, each beating made him more resentful towards those around him. Each hit stung wounded his ego more than any other part. At the age of 14 he was able to hold his own and began to fight back. No-one could discipline him, any decision against his beliefs would be tested through shouting and clenched fists clashing with bone. It wasn't long before he made his way out of the village, unwanted and unmissed he had no need for any of them and left with a heart he believed would never bleed.

Renting flats and shift work kept him fed and clothed as his tale took him to large towns and cities in the 1970's. It was here in the city of Nottingham that he would settle to have a family of his own. Working as a rubber injection press operator, he wasn't well paid but had enough to pay his own way. Income was used to feed his addiction to alcohol, cigarettes and his Friday night white lines. He had "friends", guys he'd meet for his fix and have a couple of bottles with. There was no honour or loyalty amongst them, they were argumentative and would fight over the most minuscule of disagreements. He knew it was time to settle though, he found a girl a couple of years younger and wooed her. Although violent, irrational and immature he was a true wolf in sheeps clothing. To get his way he had mastered manipulation and seduction, he used these skills to ensure he got his way.

It was the Jubilee celebration and the World Trade Centre in New York had just finished being built. It was a time of many achievements and revelry, among them was the wedding of Jack to Suzetta. The wedding was small, Jack didn't have anyone to invite, Suzetta only brought her close family which consisted of her brothers, sisters and parents. Jack had proven to be polite, hardworking and claimed to have lost his parents at a young age. As they danced in the courtyard, they felt the cool wind in their hair. You could tell by looking at Suzetta that she was in love with Jack, he was protective and full of alpha male characteristics. They bought a house together as she too worked and had saved well to put towards her future family. Jack had hidden his alcoholism and drug addictions from her, now they would be living together do you think he would change?

Staying out late and coming home drunk, Suzetta had not expected this type of life. As she confronted Jack she had no idea of where he had been or how much he had taken. Questioning him, he laughed at her and brushed the queries off. His lack of empathy infuriated Suzetta as her voice rose, wondering how he had changed so suddenly, not realising this was the real Jack. Suzettas voice became a broken scream, Jacks fists became clenched, he grinned as she awaited his answers. As his knuckles cracked her jaw her whole face and body collapsed to the floor. She wasn't moving as Jack stepped over her body to make his way upstairs to sleep.
It was envisioned that by having a family Jack would become more responsible, a year after the wedding a daughter was born, three years later there was a son called Nate. Jack continued his lifestyle of not coming home, being drunk and high. He regularly tortured his wife and struck fear into their daughter. The only one untouched was his son, Jack didn't love him but he had no reason to hurt him yet.

During the next couple of years police had been called, Jack had been arrested multiple times but never charged. One time...one time he wrapped his hands around his wifes throat until she was unconscious, her pulse could barely be felt and she had been moments away from death. It had become too much for Suzetta now, often beaten and mistreated, her children at risk of a madman. She filed for divorce and would cut all ties with him. During the divorce Jack was only concerned with the house and money, in the end he won neither and in showing a lack of affection for his own flesh and blood he would not be granted time with them. Upon knowing he had lost everything he made arrangements to leave.

Working for Trinity Industries in Beaumont, Texas, Jack had been wondering the planet for somewhere to lay his head permanently. He had no purpose in life, no ultimate goals. Work, drink, sleep. A daily cycle, his face pale, his eyes sunk, looking like death and without friends or family. He didn't care, he had alcohol, coke and smokes, what could be more important in life? It had been a few years since the divorce, something that never crossed his mind, he was unconcerned with the past and lived only for the present. Jack was free from the bonds of fate, no responsibility and no-one to tell him what he should do or how wrong he is.
As the years rolled on he would find comfort, particularly in Bourbon, his job was simple and his body was now accustomed with alcohol to the extent he would not suffer from hangovers. But, you can't run from yourself forever, sooner or later a man has to be held accountable for his sins...what goes around comes around.

Now 36, alone, miserable and unloved. Jack began to think about his son as he felt the cold on his neck. As the hairs on his arms began to rise he shivered and breathed heavier. His apartment was murky and somber, most of the light was provided by the TV. His armchair had cigarette and drink stains, the fabric was torn and shabby, the room reeked of stale cigarettes and dampness. He made his way over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Makers Mark. No tumbler needed, he sat and drank from the bottle as waves of emotions and thoughts hit him. Unable to stop the thoughts or change them he chopped some lines and lit up a smoke, turning the radio on to drown out the voices in his head.
Had he made the wrong choices in life? He began to ask what if and started to wonder what life could have been like if he was still married and had his children. Is this what life is? Loneliness and regret? He kept asking himself questions as though he had found his soul and conscience. His pain began to grow and he began to realise what kind of a man he was.

It was a hot Saturday afternoon, Unforgiven had just premiered and the sun was in full force this August. Clear skies and no breeze, eeveryone was trying to keep in the shade, a smell of sweet summer sweat filled the air. On this day Jack made his way to Lous Tavern, it was around 2pm and he had a lot on his mind. His hands were shaky as he sipped his Makers Mark. Had his son Nate been in his place, would he have made the same mistakes as him? He wanted his son to know not to follw his example. He had so much to tell him, lessons, regret, a desire for forgiveness. Jack finally knew he had failed, he had picked up the shvel as a child and ran with the devil his entire life. Now he knew he'd done wrong, he knew he'd wasted his life and the opportunity to make something of himself. But it was too late now wasn't it? He'd had 11 years to contact Nate and had never bothered, would his son even recognise him or want anything to do with thim? Jack was a monster, a beast of the old age....but today he did not want to fight. He had a first and final gift for his son, words of advice in the form of a letter and his treasured silver watch. The letter would warn Nate of what not to be, Jacks heart skipped beats and his breathing quickened at the thought of Nate being an alcoholic and abusive person....to be aone and without love or hope. He had abandoned his son, he had failed and as he became aware of how much he had wasted a tear built up in his right eye and slowly ran down his cheek. Unsure if his son would accept the gift or throw it away. Can sins be forgiven, would Nate know how much it was hurting Jack? Time to find out.

He folded the letter and sealed the envelope. Ordered another shot of Makers Mark, sparked up a cigarette and grinned. He was quite pleased with the letter, an olive branch and form of redemption. Lifting his glass of Makers Mark, the ice rattled the tumbler as he took a swig. The cool ice numbed his lips as he wiped his moustache dry. The cigarette tasted harsh and sickening, a result of smoking too many and a sign of his anxiety regarding the letter.
He made his way out of Lous Tavern, placed his hat on to protect against the sun. Walking to the mail box with the envelope and a gift box the heat was strong and he began sweating. He was finding it harder to breathe as though his lungs couldn't take the dry air in. Feeling dizzy, his vision began to blur. Envelope and box in hand he stumbled towards the mail box. Suddenly he felt a crushing pain in his chest causing him to keel over. He looked towards the sun as his body collapsed to the ground. Gurgling and convulsing laying sideways on the street. The envelope had fallen out of his hand and found its way towards the gutter. Jacks head grew heavy and his sight grew dim reaching towards the letter. There was darkness and the sound of a few voices. Then there was darkness and silence.