Chapter Two-Darin (Part One)

Darin is Jared's younger brother. He's a rather troubled kid, trying to learn how to cope with his loss. Edited

 

                                    Darin

 

 

           

           

            It had been two days since the funeral of my brother Jared, and his friend Bobby. The plate before me contained pancakes soaking in syrup, and a glass of fresh milk. The aroma was beckoning my taste buds, but I still couldn't manage the simple task of picking up a fork. I had a hole at the seam of my left sleeve, and my hair wasn't spared the wrath of bed-head.  My eyes were like lead, and my body resonated pain throughout me.  My mind was in a convoluted swirl, with a strange urge to be drunk. Shapes before me were blurry with no definition.  Perhaps I am drunk, I thought. Or maybe dreaming. I hit my hand on the table in attempt to take my glass, and my nerves screamed, sickening my stomach. I couldn't recall much of anything two days prior. The fire cracked, and the flames twisted, maneuvering in directions of variation. My grandpa Murphy's bug-eye glasses reflected the light, sitting low on his nose while reading the newspaper. The chair across from him was the chair Jared always sat in. The last time I saw him, he was sitting there. His book was open on the page he'd never return to.  I kept thinking he'd show up. Like if I looked away, and back again he'd be sitting there, reading one of his dull old books. It was almost as if he made himself invisible. It seemed like a trick he'd pull.  Grandpa's head turned, and faced me.

           "Good morning Darin. You haven't eaten your breakfast...It's usually gone within a minute!" I shrugged, messing with the hole on my sleeve.

            "I guess I'm not hungry." I replied.

            "Oh, that's okay. Save some for me, you know I'll eat it." I was surprised he hadn't commented on my poor appearance. "Your parents are out this morning. They went for a hike, in case you were wondering."

            "Oh." I had seen that their bedroom was abnormally messy, and they were nowhere in the house. I already had figured they left someplace. Grandpa slowly stood up, and set the newspaper down on the end-table next to his red coffee cup, that was still releasing it's hot temperature. The grandfather clock struck 7:30, catching his attention.

            "You better get going. You'll be late for school!" I poked and jabbed at my pancakes feeling the sulk forming, weighing down my jaw.

            "I was thinking about skipping." Which, most likely wouldn't fly.  Grandpa  looked at me with surprising indifference instead of a cold, stern stare.

            "Just get it over with." he replied. I groaned, and grabbed my bag off the coat rack. He smiled at me, "See you later son."

            "Yeah." I  said shortly with a small wave. As I walked to the front door, I noticed something missing from the foyer walls. What was once filled with pictures from the past was now white and barren. A sheet of liquid filled up in my eyes. I briskly walked out the door, and was greeted with the sun awakening my senses.  The inside of my truck was warm and comfortable. I keyed the ignition, and the old machine sputtered itself to run. It didn't have much more time to live.  Jared and I went to buy the old Chevy together from some old man near Durango when it was my sixteenth birthday. The paint at the bottom of the doors had been chipping since we bought it, and the rust continued to eat away at the light blue color. Jared never fixed it like he had promised. I thought I hated my brother before I discovered he was gone forever. He'd always mess up my projects for school, or tell a girl that I had a crush on I wanted to hook up wit her before I could say anything. When we were younger and shared a room he climbed up to my bunk on our bunk beds and shoved me out, then I fell onto a bunch of plastic old toys. Occasionally we got into some fist fights over stupid stuff. It was befuddling  to me when he'd take me fishing, or skiing. It showed me he actually did care. Something had just overcame me when I lost him. As if some wave of suppression crashed down, and was drowning me. Good memories filled my mind, and my surroundings seemed to disappear. I never thought remembering good things, would ever hurt. The fact that I had to go to school reminded me what my parents still expected from me. And that was too much. I'm bullshitting today, I thought.

            "Today is going to be hell." Mom always told me that saying that sort of thing to myself was never going to help make the day any better. It'd probably be just as how I predicted. She always had an opinion on every single thing I did, and judged me harshly on every decision I made myself. I was tired of getting her stupid disapproving looks. She didn't want me to be motivated into what I wanted to do with my life. Mom always wanted me to be like my dad. A hierarchy in the attorney business, and a debater. She wanted perfect grades, attendance, and behavior from me. If I put in less than she wanted, she would give me a less amount of anything and everything. She'd be embarrassed about me if one of her country club friends asked about my GPA.

            As I pulled out of the driveway, I saw Jared's old Jeep sitting in the backyard. My chest began to hurt. Stop now, I thought shaking my head. I sped down the street. The mountains' shadow loomed over the street, and transitioning from glaring sun to darkness messed with my eyes. A human figure appeared in the middle of the street. My heart stopped, and I slammed on the brake pedal with more force than I ever had before. The car lurched and my chest hit the steering wheel hard, and I bumped my head on the windshield.  I had hit plenty of animals before. Nothing else. I hoped and prayed that my eyes were playing tricks on me. Hesitant, and shaking violently, I looked up. The figure was gone, and all I saw was pavement that stretched on into the horizon.

            "Oh God, Oh God...Oh no, no, no. S**t!" I yelled.  I threw the door open, and bolted to the front of my truck, afraid to see a bloody body. And the body was Rhia.

            "Rhia...Oh my God I'm so sorry!" She was sitting up, and blinking abruptly with her eyes forward. Her jacket was hanging from one arm, and her bag was a few feet from her. She wasn't bleeding, and appeared to be in a daze, but overall she seemed fine.

            "I fell before you hit me. I'm...I'm okay." She raised an eyebrow, studying the loose grill of my truck. "You should probably  do something to fix that. It looks like you ran into a tree in that condition."

"Well I nearly ran into you." I reached down, and picked her up to make her stand. "Are you sure you're alright? Nothing's broken? Are you hurt at all? I am so sorry." My words flew out as I spoke. Rhia winced a little when she took a step.

            "Slow down. I may have twisted something. Don't worry, I'm shaken up a bit, but I'll be fine. I think my bag may have ripped."  She looked at the floral bag with disappointment. I sighed with relief, and continued to hear pulsing in my ears. I felt light and shaky.

            "That's good news then. And there hasn't been much of that lately."

            "Yeah..." She stood on her toes, looking behind her. "Hey... do you think that maybe-"

            "I can give you a ride if you like. Really, would you like a ride to school?" Rhia's pink lips formed a small smile.

            "Yeah. That'd be great. Thank you."

            Not many words were exchanged between us. I was honestly disappointed. Her presence kept me from breaking down and going crazy. She was dressed nicely, and she smelled good, unlike most of the girls I knew at my age. They usually wore those ugly bug glasses like my grandpa, and had their hair all strange looking with weird curls or was feathered back and stuff. Her hair was smooth and straight, and she actually knew how to apply makeup without looking like a clown that got all those colors painted on it's face. She was just nice.

             After we went our separate ways at school, to almost every person I passed in the hall, I became pessimistic to in my thoughts. Things like: I hate you, you're a dunce, you're annoying, and you're a sleaze went through my head. At lunch, I did the same thing.  When my gaze fell to Rhia, my negativity ceased.  I looked down at my food, and all of it's goopy meat glory. For the second day that week, I didn't eat.  Lunch food was usually terrible anyway. Jonathan Bale decided to sit next to me, and I got goose bumps, and I almost left instantly. We were best friends in Elementary school, but since then we never really talked anymore. We used to mess around with GI-Joes and army men, creating battle scenes and blowing things up. He became weird as years passed, and didn't care about anything he did. Just his drugs, his beer and his w****s. Well, he didn't really care about what happened to his w****s. One of them could be pregnant with his kid and on the street, and he wouldn't think anything of it. It was unfortunate for his happy, kind girlfriend.  She was pretty naive to think he didn't have several of her in town.  I couldn't even understand why he bothered coming to school. He was stupid, excelling in no subject, and was like a walking vegetable.

            "Hey man, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for ya?" Just his breath gave away his use of various drugs and alcohol. "I got some beer in my trunk- maybe even some Mary Jane if you're lucky. You might actually eat something if you have some of that."

            "Nah, I don't care for weed," I confirmed. He looked confused, like I was out of my mind. "However...The beer is another story. I'd rather not drink at school, if you know what I mean." With my luck and how I was feeling then, I would have probably gotten wasted at school if I had a drink.  Jonathan kind of bobbed his head in an up and down motion for a minute or two.

The question that kept repeating in my mind was that of, how in the hell did he get any? How in the name of God, did any girl want to be around something like that? How was he in anyway, shape or form, attractive? Those girls must have been pretty desperate.        

            Hippies like Jonathan  never really seemed with it.  They all were in their own fantasy world of how things 'should be'. My sixteen year old younger sister Michelle was one.  While I was sitting with Jonathan, I overheard people gave her pity about our brothers death, she told one of her republican peers,

            "See, I told you. Guns should be banned. They kill people, and are horrible, horrible weapons. Whoever owns a firearm should burn in the depths of hell." Now before this phase, Michelle was a gun enthusiast and a republican, like most of my family. One day she randomly quit wearing bras, and didn't shave her arm pit or leg hair. Thus I had to suffer being around her in public. Everyday. She'd yell out and protest the dumbest things. Michelle always sang songs, and she probably could have broken glass if she tried hard enough. Especially when she sang "Seasons in the Sun" and "Go Ask Alice".  Anyone who had to hear that nonsense at Thanksgiving would cringe at the reminder. Michelle ranted about the government and praised Earth and "being natural". Dad had caught her with some guy, and I assume they were going to do the hanky panky, because she yelled at dad about how 'sex was natural', and said, 'your generation is so uptight and annoying about everything. Leave me alone. I am my own person and you can't change who I am.'  Funny, because she preached so much about peace. All she did around the house was wreak havoc. Michelle would dance and put dandelions in her hair, and would give flowers out to people. Her skirts were ugly, going to her feet, and her hair was to her waist, sometimes put back in a head band to keep it out of her face. I couldn't stand being around her and all of the dumb unrealistic beliefs she spoke of. My mom and dad were more ashamed of her than me, which was absolutely understandable.

Jonathan woke me from my deep meditation,

            "Hey. Hey. Bobby. We could go some place fun tonight if you like instead of just me giving you my beer. I have a better idea."

            "It better not be some druggie joint." He smiled at me with food in his teeth.

            "Don't worry yourself, I think you'll like this place. It's about five miles from here, it's called Wilhelm's. It's a nice bar, they'll let anyone in." I pondered over his suggestion for a minute or two. I could get in a lot of trouble, but then again I could have a night I would never forget. Jared would be so upset with me though. But he did the same things.

            "What time?"

            "Nine is the prime time. Drinks on me."

            "Deal."             

Author's Note

This is Darin's POV in my story. Feel free to add the good points, and the bad points of this chapter :)

Reviews

[KillerWithWords]

Excellent job. Perhaps re-read and give it an overall edit.

I feel like this chapter is telling a similar story as Rhiannon's.
That doesn't make it any less enjoyable to read though.
...You have a nack for creating interesting characters. They're funny, obnoxious and very much alive.
I'm about to read Rhiannon (New One) so i'll save my further critique for that.

[KillerWithWords]

Okay, i understand now!

Same story, 2 different perspectives....

How foolish of me....

Okay. Now i understand....



!

[Rachel Hanne]

haha no I understand, don't feel silly! Thank you, I always look forward to your reviews. They always help :D They are similar because it's still the exposition, you will see some differences later on (at least that's what I am aiming for)

[InsanityWriter]

This one was really good. :D Darin has so much depth! The ending was really good too. (; I love it. Keep writing!! :)

[Rachel Hanne]

Darin was difficult at first, since I am not a boy, but seems like its going well! Thank you!

[s y e]

I love how this is in a different POV. I think it is great to hear the different characters side of it.

[Rachel Hanne]

Good, that's what I like to hear. It's hard doing it from a guys POV, but he's coming along okay. Thanks!

[s y e]

Ha-ha! I bet it is hard but you done great!

[Rachel Hanne]

Aww shucks :3

[s y e]

:P Ha-ha!

[Phillitup]

Okay, I have a few things I want to say. Do you do character questionnaires or is all this stuff about them on a whim? I'm interested to know because I have never really been so intrigued by so many characters at once. You leave all of your readers with their own opinions to form and let them think what they might while still presenting a character as who he or she truly is from your perspective. That is a very hard and rare thing to do. I compliment you in your work of characterization. Darin is very interesting...against things one moment, confused another, and for it the next. In a lot of cases that doesn't work to well. However, this does not happen to be one of those cases. I liked the part when you talked about how embarrassed he was because of his sister. I also liked how you mentioned how much he would have hated Jared but then he lost him forever. My mom always says that siblings are "all that you have" and so you should love them while you have them. This book is a great example of that. I am very happy that someone besides me writes cooks from different perspectives. Read the beginning of my book Nana's Farm and you'll see what I mean. Next, I enjoy change in perspective because it sheds light on situations and often provides better explanations then a one-sided book. You know more about what people are thinking which allows for you to find better characters and relatability. Nicely penned.
Best regards,
Dell

[Rachel Hanne]

I just kind of come up with them. Their characteristics are based off of people are already know. Like one character can have traits or say different things from five different people I know in real life. I will go check out your work :D

[Phillitup]

Thanks

[Rachel Hanne]

No problem!