Withered Trees

- Where it all began

Part I

Withered Trees

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were two paths to choose from yet I was forced into one

Unbeknownst to me it was the road where the least damage had been done

By the footsteps of travellers whose imprints still soiled the ground

Of the other road to which once you are lost, will never be found

And the difference between who I am and who I will be

Is the path I was forced into, and what it will make of me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1:

An Introduction to Tyler Maverick

 

 

 

Most people I know wear their scars on their sleeve for one or two reasons. Firstly as a reminder of who they were and what they have been through and secondly as a guide on how to avoid any further scarring. Tyler Maverick however was not most people and instead wore his in a fashion most estranged to others. His scars did not remind him of a person he once was, primarily because he is the same person who received those scars, never changing, learning or healing from them (either emotionally or physically). Neither did they act as a template for how to avoid making the same mistakes twice. The truth is, and what everyone around him thought would always be, with Tyler Maverick is that scar or no scar, if he could benefit, wether it be at the expense of another or not, he would be enthusiastically obliged to do so. And at least, unlike many others who wear their scars on their sleeves, if Tyler chose to wear his in that fashion, they would be positioned on one expensive set of cufflinks.

Tyler was an important man with an important position in an important company. The work required him to wear suits of only the greatest calibre from only the most renown tailors. Anything less than the best was truly a felony in this world, and although he obviously couldn’t go to actual prison for wearing the wrong suit, he could easily be imprisoned in the impoverishment both he and his co workers looked down upon all day from their high rise buildings in their executive offices. Tyler’s suits, paid for by Gambit and Matthews Attorney’s at Law, were not the only thing he possessed of the highest calibre. He was quite a good looking man, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so. He was fairly tall, about 6ft 3, with well distinguished features and a medium build, a face where imperfections became perfections and perfectly styled hair. He also liked to keep exceptionally clean and presentable. So apart from his weekly manicure and pedicure, he wore the most expensive cologne on the shelves and used only the best hair and facial care products money, or in reality, Gambit and Matthews, could buy. Along with his perfect suits and unflawed appearances, the company cars, frequent flyer miles and late night stays in hotel rooms were but another aspect of his perfect life. Well, what he believed to be perfect. However, Tyler Maverick believed his life to be perfect because his sight was limited to the black and white spectrum, and the shades of grey which filled nearly everyone else’s lives, were invisible to him. In this very shade of grey, the one that Tyler had abandoned so long ago, lived three other Maverick’s. Three other Maverick’s who were unaware of the late night hotel room stays, and for the most part, the whereabouts of their husband/father. Amalie Maverick, whom was medium height and every bit as attractive as Tyler with long blonde hair, perfect skin and shape, and her two sons Jason and Brendan, whose apples did not fall far from the tree when it came to appearances, lived off Tyler’s money, when they would have much preferred to be poor and live of his love. However, they had learned to get by with an absentee father and husband, whom lived on their sidelines and in his own game ,and moved on. On the other hand, on the rare occasion that the Maverick’s were reunited with their lost prodigy, the fight that became of it would always end with yet again his disappearance where his time was spent combined between local pubs and local mistresses houses. A series of several hour long reservations at seedy motels and back alley hostels followed up with a series of hour long reservations above a toilet bowl, spilling his guts in the wrong kind of way.

It was in this cycle of life, and this path that Tyler had chosen to travel, like so many before him, instead of choosing the road less travelled by, where Tyler had slowly but surely, lost himself, and the Tyler he once knew had been consumed by money, power and greed. He could have literally been a walking talking advertisement for the seven sins if god was so willing and in need of a poster boy of what not to become or of who not to be. It was here, down this road, that Tyler and his perfect suits, appearances, job and life, burned every bridge he ever built. It was here that Tyler left everything but himself behind, and cut off every chord, only to find that one day, someday in the near or distant future he would need or like to reattach that very same chord and pick back up the pieces of the life he so willingly destroyed. It was here, were Tyler Maverick’s story began.

****

 

There’s a dream I have where I see myself through the eyes of another

And like what I see

But if the dream is in anyway true then the eyes I am being seen through

Surely Can not be looking at me

Because in no shape or form

Am I a person who can be seen

As a martyr, a saint, or even a real person

And in this, I and everyone else still believe

 

****

 

From down below, the building looked as if it had been painted bright white, yet it was merely the snow that had fallen throughout the previous night rendered upon it. Each window was caked in a cocktail of snow, ice and fog making it impossible for any of Tyler esteemed colleagues to look out upon the beautiful haze in which was the cold winter morning, and for any of those down below to picture the luxury in which these same colleagues were in with their expensive sweaters, rain coats and heating bills. This was therefore, in the eyes of those indoors and outdoors, a win-win situation for both groups involved as neither had to live with the inconvenience of the other. It was nearly ten to nine that morning, when Tyler pulled up in the buildings car park, carefully manoeuvred through it and positioned himself in his usual parking space, greeted by a sign bearing his name. His drive in to work could of coupled as his walk of shame for the day because he was running late and did not have time to shower. This meant that the remnants of his one night stand (lipstick stains, the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke coupled with that of a hookers and unironed clothes) bore witness to his escapades, following him around almost as closely as his own shadow, stalking his every move around the various hallways and office floors of the building. To put it blatantly, he was a mess. Shirt untucked, tie not done up correctly and for the first time in his entire working life, he smelt worse than those who littered the streets down below.

The announcement suggesting this sounded over the P/A system within the building, “Will Tyler Maverick please report to the fifty second floor immediately, I repeat will Tyler Maverick please report to the fifty second floor immediately”

Although he had not picked up on the extent of his demeanour, his co-workers, associates and Gambit and Matthews themselves had recognised the stench of a commoner as soon as it had entered the building, and as a result, for the first time ever, Tyler had been summoned to the penthouse level where he would finally meet Gambit and Matthews.

To ascend to the penthouse level, one had to go through a series of obstacles, which Tyler began to do in a less than impressive manner. Firstly he reached the elevator, pressed the button and waited for the glass doors to open,

“Much like Moses parting the red sea”, he mused to him with his egotistical god complex taking the reigns.

As he waited he began to tidy himself up, firstly by tucking his shirt in, fixing up his tie and collar and straightening up his jacket and hair. He finished this process while stepping into the elevator and pressing the button labelled 47. The forty seventh floor was the highest you could go in this elevator, and was designed as a precautionary safety measure to keep Gambit and Matthews from harm. Once he had reached the forty seventh floor, Tyler being the only one left, stepped out of his solitary confinement and approached the desk. Their was an attractive girl sitting behind the desk, Jenifer Daniels, a name he learned by glancing at her name badge, conveniently located on her breast pocket, as he walked passed. She glanced up slightly from her papers as he walked past, and with a flicker of her eyelids, returned her full concentration to the abundance of papers in front of her.

Tyler, after getting another good look at Jenifer’s ‘name badge’, reached a golden door, which was guarded by two extremely large men, with muscles protruding from every gap of clothing.

Before Tyler even had a chance to open his mouth one of the guards asked,

“Are you Tyler Maverick, the Tyler Maverick whom has been summoned to see Gambit and Matthews”

“Yes sir,” Tyler replied shakily, still shocked by how quickly the guard had picked up on the situation.

As soon as he had responded, both guards pulled out their security cards and swiped the machines on either side of the door at exactly the same time, resulting in the door jarring open slightly with an almost silent squeak. The guards then continued to push it until it was completely open. Tyler, with nerves swelling up in his throat now not knowing the reason for his summoning, slipped past the guards quickly without so much as a thankyou or goodbye and began ascending the staircase. As it was only five levels from the top, he managed to climb them quickly and found himself knocking on the penthouse office doors within five minutes of his absurd encounter with the guards. The gentle rapping on the door was welcomed with a voice bellowing from what seemed to be miles away,

“Come now, come in,”

Tyler twisted the knob, all the while noticing that as he did so, their were no marks of fingerprints left, and pushed open the door softly. The room was the most elegant yet simple room he had ever see. It was an enormous loft with white tiles, white walls, a fireplace to the left hand side of the room, a brown rug in the middle of the room and two absurdly large desks in either corner. The left hand side was home to Matthew Gambit whilst in the right hand side sat Damien Matthews. Tyler walked sheepishly to the middle of the room, noticing the seat placed between both Gambit and Matthews desk. He exchanged glances with Gambit who gestured for him to sit at the seat he had only just noticed.

As he sat, not knowing which of the two to look at, Gambit began to talk.

“As you know Tyler, here at Gambit and Matthews, we work hard to be a cut above the rest, the best of the best and that means that every single member of staff has to be able to fulfil this everyday that he is a member of our highly exclusive team. Now take a look at yourself and the manner in which you entered the office today and tell me if you believe your actions today equate to the great expectations of Gambit and Matthews?”

“N-n-n”

But before Tyler could finish his sentence Matthews stepped in,

“No, that’s the answer I believe you were looking for isn’t it”

“Y-ye”

But again before he could finished responding Matthews cut in again,

“And that is the reason we are going to have to let you go, you have ten minutes to pack up your belongings and get out before security throws you out to the commoners to which you belong with”

And without another word exchanged, Tyler stepped up and made his way towards the door, his egotistical god complex shattered, like glass, into little pieces. He couldn’t help but think how strange the meeting had been and how quickly he was in and out. He had served Gambit and Matthews for ten years and had been thrown out in a matter of ten seconds. An effective means to and end.

The whole way down Tyler felt his heart sinking in unison with his movements, and instead of facing his fellow co workers, decided to leave his belongings and get out of their as quick as he could. Realising he no longer had the luxury of a company car to drive in, he had no other choice but to walk the homeless infested streets, in the freezing cold of what was a normal winter morning, and although It was early, decided upon heading to the nearest bar to drown away in his sorrows.

****

 

It was approximately a five mile stretch to the nearest bar, and in this five miles Tyler noticed things about the town he had lived in for so long that he had never noticed before. In the snow covered sidewalks their were not boot prints or shoe prints but foot prints. The homeless who walked the streets could not afford shoes and instead felt the icy pinch of winters morning on the feet, watching on as they turned black from frost bite. Every car that passed these sidewalks had tinted windows so that those on the streets could not look in on the driver and judge but the driver could look out on those staring so he himself could judge. The entire way Tyler felt as if every car passing was somehow judging him, placing him with the homeless people he had for so long judged like the people in the passing cars.

Every now and then, the stride in his step was halted by a homeless mans leg or arm, really any appendage that was loitering amongst the snow on the footpath, just searching for warmth. There were people walking the busy sidewalks on either side of the road, and not one of them appeared to have even one sixth of the money Tyler was receiving a fortnight up until ten minutes ago when he was effectively cut of like the chords he had cut with his life so long ago. They were clearly all homeless, cold and starving, with any money received being spent on alcohol. An efficient provider of inner warmth and protection from the cold. Every so often, one of the people passing would beholding a glass bottle or a can in this fashion, gulping it down with the warmth following the liquid through their oesophagus as their skin changed from a pale blue to a more natural tone. The buildings, much like the people walking the streets, were worn down and impoverished. There were broken windows and graffiti (mostly likely provided by the rich uptown kids), rats and insects running in and out of doors and over all a real sense of abandonment. Inside these buildings, the only inhabitants were the crammed in homeless people escaping the cold and setting up camp for the night, and the ghosts of memories past, re-enacting and reliving life as it once was before all was lost. It was these several observation that filled Tyler Mavericks mine until finally he was standing beside a door, on top of which hung a half illuminated sign reading BAR, where only the B and R shined bright red.

 

****

 

As the door swung open the bar went silent, and unshaven heads swirled around to look at me. All you could smell was vomit and dirt, and the germs were clearly visible to the naked eye. Their was no need for a microscope here. Tyler without realising why he was being stared down by almost everyone in the bar, sat at a stool near the front and put up his hand, gesturing for the bar tender to make her way to him. Everyone in the bar was still staring at him when she came over, a slight hesitation in her step as she did so, and asked, “What will you be having today mister?”

Staring into his wallet and noticing he only had twenty dollars left to his name, ordered whatever was cheapest and on tap and passed her the twenty. He received sixteen in change, and started chugging down his beer as if he hadn’t drunk a sip for years. Within three minutes he was onto his second but was abruptly halted when a man wearing a dark brown coat and jeans, gloves and a beanie walked towards him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Now how’s come I aint seen your face round here before mister, and how comes is it that you be wearing such a nice fancy coat, when we be freezing in our boots” the man said in a raggedy voice, with a hint of croup within every word he spoke, and finishing with a rough cough or two.

“Now now Charlie, leave the poor man alone” cut in the bartender before Tyler could dignify the mans comments with a response.

Although he was denied this luxury, he came to realise why everyone had been staring at him when he first arrived. He was still wearing the Gambit and Matthews appropriate attire which was easily a cut above what everyone else in this bar was wearing, and it dawned on him that coming to this bar might not have been in his best of intentions. Although he had become a tad weary about his surroundings, he figured that another beer or two couldn’t hurt, and so proceeded to purchase another two before using the rest of his money as a tip for the bartender before packing up and leaving. Tyler bid farewell to the lovely lady who had helped him from having to answer Charlie the drunks question and then walked outside, were he was greeted with not the crack of a closing door, but two. He turned around and saw that Charlie had followed him out side holding the glass which appeared to once contain his beverage.

“So you know fella, you never did quite answer my question. Now I know you important folk who work in those important buildings up in uptown aint got no time to answers the questions of common folk like myself, but I would like an answer, and I would like to hear it now if it so pleases you as much as it does me,”

Instead of answering like he knew he should have, Tyler proceeded to turn his back to Charlie, and walk in the opposite direction. After about several feet, Tyler could hear Charlie’s heavy footsteps trailing him from behind, and in the remnants of a shattered window could see the line of heavy footprints Charlie had left in the snow covered sidewalk with Charlie standing at the end of the trail, holding the glass high in the air. Tyler immediately swang round but before he could do anything to defend himself had already been clobbered over his head with the glass, the little pieces shattering to the floor, several stained with blood. Tyler fell to his knees and placed his hand on the top of his head, withdrawing after a second to be welcomed with a handful of blood. He was feeling woozy and the injury mixed with the intoxication was not helping his chances. However he managed to get to his feet and get a good clean hit on Charlie. Charlie fell to the ground, much like Tyler had, however spitting out a tooth and a mouth full of blood. Tyler hit him again but this time Charlie caught his hand in mid flight and pulled underneath his weight so that Tyler would be stuck. Charlie then picked up a piece of the shattered glass from the initial hit with his free hand and with a quick jerking action stabbed it straight into Tyler’s neck. Tyler fell to the ground and lay still. Suddenly, the sound of sirens pulled Charlie away as he ran for his usual hideout. It had been the bartender who rang the hospital as she now ran towards Tyler’s body. Their was a fair amount of blood seeping into the snow, staining it bright red but Tyler’s chest was still slightly heaving in and out which the bartender took as a good sign.

It was five minutes until the ambulance arrived, closely followed by two police cars and as they each halted, they were each followed by an inevitable skid caused by the ice which had been collecting atop the roads. As the paramedics lifted Tyler’s body on the gurney, his eyes flickered in and out, as he slowly drifted of into sleep. How long he would be asleep for, know one knew, but what would happen to him while he was asleep, no one could guess.

****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the trees grow thicker and the woods grow ever darker

we sail our boat upstream to find that I cannot row any harder

And all though my boat is sinking to a brand new all time low

I have no remorse or emotion, not a single scar to show

 

And even if this place is scary, it can be no worse than what I am

A parasite that lives and breathes as if it really were a man

Yet I prey on unsuspecting victims, ruining live’s that are not deserving

Of such an ill fate that I deliver to those who are already hurting

 

And their hearts no longer bear the burden of all of my convictions

As they moved on long ago when I was not the person they had envisioned

Reviews

[Casper Cross]

This is a very good opening chapter but it is missing a really powerful opening paragraph. I think if you take this one and put at the beginning, you will give the start of your book a little more punch from the very beginning.

It was in this cycle of life, and this path that Tyler had chosen to travel, like so many before him, instead of choosing the road less travelled by, where Tyler had slowly but surely, lost himself, and the Tyler he once knew had been consumed by money, power and greed. He could have literally been a walking talking advertisement for the seven sins if god was so willing and in need of a poster boy of what not to become or of who not to be. It was here, down this road, that Tyler and his perfect suits, appearances, job and life, burned every bridge he ever built. It was here that Tyler left everything but himself behind, and cut off every chord, only to find that one day, someday in the near or distant future he would need or like to reattach that very same chord and pick back up the pieces of the life he so willingly destroyed. It was here, were Tyler Maverick's story began.

You will obviously have to reword it some, but I really liked this paragraph.