Keep Myself Running

 

“Brent! Watch this!” I looked at Jack who was posed in a running stance. He shot from where he was standing to the ledge, where he jumped off into the air. In the air, he did three back flips, and I watched in awe. He then ended by splashing the water perfectly with his feet.

            “That was awesome!” I yelled over the edge as soon as his head came up for water. Brandon and Andrew both agreed with me, and were yelling to Jack how cool it was. Jack waved back to us and he swam to the beach.

            “Here let me try,” Andrew said. He tried to copy the moves too, and only managed to do two. We yelled down to him, and said he encouraged him.

            “I don’t know how Jack can do that,” Brandon said.

            “Yeah, it’s pretty hard to do.” I watched Jack and Andrew go up the small sandy spot that hit the water. They walked up in the grass, and then ran back to where we were. I watched over the ledge and saw the ships in the distance moving. It was an amazing spot to be at. A lot of kids come here, but it wasn’t too crowed today. I wonder why…

            “Brent, you gonna jump?” Jack asked.

            “Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I?”   I wasn’t going to let Jack make me look like I was scared. There was no way that would happen.

            “Maybe because you’re too tired!” He taunted at me.

            “I am not!” I went back some and then sprinted to the other side. My feet dug into the grass, and the ground felt like soft clay underneath me. I jumped, feeling the ground vanish and the air rush past me. I pulled myself backwards and turned, watching the sky and sea switch places many times. Somehow I managed three rotations and then landed. Not as smoothly as I wanted to, but I managed it. “I knew I could do it!”

            “Way to go!” Brandon said. Jack smiled to me but didn’t yell anything to me yet. He must have been jealous.

            “Give it a go Brandon!” I wanted to encourage him too, since he didn’t jump yet. He nodded to me, and disappeared from view. When he came back into my sight he was coming from further to the right of where I came from. He was jumping from way far off, and I wasn’t sure why he was heading onto that side.

            When I watched him fall, I could tell he was going to end up in the shallow part. He didn’t jump far enough from the edge, and where he was jumping to be where the rockier part of the shore was. There were just some medium sized rocks that might get in his way if he wasn’t careful of where he would land. From where I was watching in the water, I couldn’t tell where he was going.

            “Watch out!” Jack yelled down to him. Brandon kept both hands held out, and didn’t attempt a move. He just watched himself fall to the water. His head became submerged and when he came up he gave out a shout of pain.

            I swam myself to the beach, where he went to so he could sit down. I stood up when it got shallow, and saw the pink trail in the sand lead up to him.

            “Jack, come here!” I yelled up. Jack no longer watched what was going on and ran down to us. When he was coming I examined Brandon’s leg. His ankle and feet were scratched up pretty badly. There was blood coming from a specific wound on his left foot, and short scratches leading to where the sock line was.

            “What happened?” Jack arrived right next to Brandon, with Andrew right behind him.

            “I hit the bottom I think,” Brandon said. “I don’t know how it did it this bad.”

            “Jack, get me my shirt.” He ran to get it and brought it back. I yanked it out of his hand, and folded it four times. When it was a good size, I used one side of it to wipe up some of the blood. A few rocks that were smaller than pebbles fell to the sand.

            “That hurts!” I must have dug into his wound too hard.

            “It’s going hurt worse if I don’t help it.” I didn’t think Boy Scouts could actually apply to a situation like this, but it did. I wrapped the clean part of the shirt over the wound, and pressed down to try and calm the bleeding. The shirt that became more of a rag became sticker as I held it. The blood was flowing out more than I thought it would.   “I need another one.”

            Jack grabbed me his own, and I did the same thing I did before. When I wrapped a second one around, I could see the white shirt turn pink, but didn’t feel wetness to it. Brandon was cringing a little, and I was trying hard not to be too tough on his foot. I wanted to make sure he would be fine.

            “Let’s head back and clean that,” Andrew spoke again. I nodded, and tied off the bandage. We got on our clothes, with me helping Brandon into one of his shoes as he was putting on his shirt. I let him lean on me, and partly carried his weight so we could return to the beach where we left our families.

            “Brandon! Honey, what happened?!” His mom came running to us when he saw him limping.

            “Brent?” My mom was at her side.

            “I’m okay, mom.” I assured her that I was just helping him out.

            “Well, I don’t want you boys back there.” Brandon’s mother scolded us.

            “But mom-“
            “No, Brandon, you’re mother is right.” My mom began siding with her, and I knew what was coming. “I don’t want you guys there either. I knew it wasn’t safe.”

            “It is!”

            “Then why did he hurt himself?”

            “That was my fault!” Brandon tried to confess. We wanted to defend our spot, but it wouldn’t work.

            “No arguments, I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

*           *           *           *           *

That was the end of our visits to East Brook Ledge. Whenever Jack and I wanted to talk in a quiet spot, we would go to the beach. I don’t remember ever coming further out before. It was never that hard to find this area either, until the roads disappeared and memories faded away. It was worth the trip, to look out over the edge again and see the sea swirling around ahead. How it extended to the horizon, the sun ready to sink into the water far off from here. The trees behind me opened up to me, and seemed to want to suck me back into them. They wanted me to escape this treasured place and go back to the shadows hovering over me.

The sea on the edge of the rock crashed, making booming noises. They crackled against the rocks jutting out of the shallow water. None of the bottom was yet visible, but I figured it would be soon. The tide was lowering, showing how late in the year it really was. Low tide had never been this early in the summers. It was normally safe to be here, but as it looked now, no kid would jump into that mess.

Flowers not yet dead from the frost were at my feet, still in a bright sunshine clutter. I sat down, with my knees up and my elbows resting on them. I put my face on my hands, and removed one to pick a flower sitting next to me. I twirled it between my fingers, examining its beauty. Whatever structured it to work this way was a master at its work. 

The outside concept of a flower is so simple. The water goes through the stem, and it provides life to the flower. Then it keeps it working, and to the eye it’s a pleasant sight. That’s what anyone would think when they would see me.   I can live easy off of my friends and family, and it’s all okay to me.

The problem is, no one stops to think about what’s in the flower. There’s a system to the plant. It has to have a way to collect the water, with veins and parts to pick it up. Then it has to rely on the sun to help provide its food, since it can’t just do it on its own. And then it has to do the work of using that energy to keep it alive the whole time it’s facing winds, storms, and troubles. 

Some winds end up uprooting plants. Other times it’s a force that pulls it out of the ground. That force feels as if it must inspect it, correct it, and file it for another moment in time. They research it and keep a close eye to it. Some find out it’s a poisonous plant that needs to be destroyed. Proper ecosystems have to live without them, I guess. Others find them to be powerful substances to a cure for a disease. They heal the physical pain, and stop any future sympathetic pains from happening. Any loss or things you must handle no longer show up from the specific problem in question.

Which type am I? I couldn’t know. I guess now I’m the poisonous plant. No one seems to need me in their life, and when I’m sprouted into it, they just want to hit me with gas. They want to get rid of me, because to them I’m not worth the ground I’m gripped into. It’s almost ridiculous that would happen, but I don’t think there’s any need to care about it now. They’re probably right to go about it that way.

I’ve messed up some pretty big things. For starters my brother doesn’t want to talk to me at all. I don’t know why I had to tell Erin about me being gay. I could have denied it better, or taken lying classes… something so that she wouldn’t have known and so that it could be a secret. My life could have retained some of the natural order in life. Maybe if I told Jack first, he would have accepted me. He wouldn’t have been so rash about it, and would have helped me through it. He loved me at one point. I don’t know where I stand now in the grey area of his mind, but I do know where I stood before. We meant a lot to each other, and one of the main priorities on my list had always been Jack, and I know that with all he’s done for me, the same was true of me for him.

At least when my brother was mad, he looked at me. He at least acknowledged I was there when I would make him have a conversation with me. My parents did neither of those things. My mother was trying not to listen to me, and tried to punish me for something out of my control. I didn’t mean to be gay, it just happened to me. It was a quirk I had, and I didn’t want it. God didn’t want it. They sure didn’t want it to be that way either.

My father was so homophobic of it. He hated hearing about it, and I didn’t know what his problem was. Some pastors would accept it and move on, helping the cause and loving everyone. He was one of the old fashioned I presume. An eye for an eye, the Old Testament is law kind of thing. The new age stuff wouldn’t go with him. He couldn’t comprehend that people wanted happiness, and marriage was one of those things they felt would satisfy them. Not like I ever thought about it, but it was one of the things he would ramble about. It was true some things he said were true.

One of them being that there are many gays who just get in bed for a night with someone, and the next night they were with another man. That much was true, but that was human anatomy. Guys are revved for sex and whether you’re homosexual or not, you always want to jump someone’s bones. It just happens to be that way.

He doesn’t get that. Instead he decides to make sure I meant nothing to him. I could still feel the sting resting on my face from his nasty actions. I couldn’t tell from feeling it if it was really bruising there, or if I just felt it from going over the scene in my head so many times. All I know is that the same thing goes through my mind as I think about it.

It’s over with me in their family. It wasn’t right to place myself with that man’s family of three. I didn’t belong there, and not because that’s how he felt. It’s how I felt about it. If he was going to do that to his own, quote on quote, “son” then he didn’t matter to me. None of them did. There was no one here to hold me, or take care of me. No person was here to help me through this or to make me think of the brighter side to it.

With me being on my own to break down the happier things, my brain power could not suffice to think of any on its own. It could only have enough room to be a movie player, nothing else. So with no thoughts of joy or inspiration, I thought of the need to go somewhere where I couldn’t be reached. Someplace I would still enjoy, and soon forget of those around me.

That place couldn’t be a secluded location; this one had shown me that. If I’ve been away the past few days on my own, and am still thinking about them, then going far away wasn’t going to cure that either. It would have to be someplace out of their range, and even different countries might not be. I was going to have to go further than that, where no human can possibly reach with their transportation methods.

I tossed down the flower and stood up again. I leaned over the ledge, this time searching for something. The rocks greeted me again, this time seeming like they had multiplied on their own. It was a marvelous sight to see, as I watched my answer to my escape. This would be a sure fire plan, and anyone who wanted me would have to go to the same extreme to reach me.

I figured from this height, those rocks wouldn’t be merciful. To Brandon they were, simply scratching him up. He recovered in a week, ready to be running on his feet again. If I survived this, well, that would be a messed up sight. I shouldn’t survive this kind of fall. The rocks would destroy my body, and if I even had some breath left the water would end that quickly enough.

I looked out to the water again, and didn’t see any boats. No one would be there to help if I cried out for it. If I made it to the shore, it would be too hard to be spotted there as well. If I had any sense I wouldn’t change my mind and miraculously drive myself to safety. That would not do at all in my plan. There might be a case where that would happen, though. If I was in just enough pain, I could change my mind. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince myself in that kind of state.

Simply landing on the ground wouldn’t be enough. I would have to land some place exactly right to make it short and sweet. As I remembered the effect on Brandon, I thought of what had caused it. That would be how I could do it. If I was in the middle of flipping myself around, and didn’t make it in time, my head would hit the ground.

There would be the end of Brent Evans Lewis at that moment. He would show up on files as a missing child, with posters of “have you seen this boy?” posted in local shops. That is, if my parents had decided to get around to it. It could be a silent operation, where they would pretend that I moved far away, and never speak of it again. The credit for that would go to my dear old dad, who would only pretend to care for me.

I guess it was good I couldn’t get caught up in the aftermath of this. The more I became apathetic about it, the easier it would be to do this. I wouldn’t back out and end up breaking a leg, or two. 

I would just flat line right there, and become a corpse in Davy Jones’s locker. The organisms in the lake could easily eat me up. I’m sure a hungry shark would find me and nibble on me instead of a little child who was wandering on the shore near here. That could redeem me when I reached heaven. That is if it’s true that God can forgive everyone. I would be a hero for saving the life of someone else in replace of my own life.

I almost gave out a laugh from the thought of that. That would be more of a sarcastic lie than anything else, especially if I tried to get into the pearly gates with that excuse. As if He wouldn’t know the background story to it. Even though it’s told that He’s always watching us, I wondered where He was now. If He had the power to, why didn’t He want to stop me from committing this teenage suicide? Did I not matter to someone like Him, and dad had actually been right? 

Dad could never be right; it had to be something bigger. Maybe this was part of His Divine Plan. This could be the end of my life as laid out by Him. It doesn’t sound reasonable, considering His reputation, but everyone in this world tends to believe something different now. Let me believe that as being true. No one can really know what’s going on in His head until they get to fully experience him.

            I walked to the edge of the forest behind me. I looked to the edge, noting that it wouldn’t be too far of a run. It had to be maybe 15 yards, but with the running I’ve done before, that wouldn’t be too long. That was another pro to the choice, since it would help me not change my mind. Not that I would, anyways. I figured I’d change it in mid air, after the decision was made, and as I awaited the final outcome. That’s how it was meant to be.

            I took in another breath, steadying myself. I put my right foot behind me, and planted it. While doing so, I stuck my left knee out, keeping my quads parallel to the ground. I was getting into a running sprint, so I go out fast, and jump higher at the end. The higher I managed to go, the more force I could build up for my landing. Gravity was no longer fighting against me in this situation, but instead was with me. 

            Another breath came, and I felt my eyebrows burrow as I mentally cleansed myself. I got rid of those things that could stop me, even to the slightest. Any double takes or remaining thought of this being a mistake had to jump off before I did. I could meet them later once I reached the ground, but only then. It was hard not to cling on to any thoughts, but breathing helped me go into a sleep mode.

            My brain became more and more relaxed as I focused on the breeze around me. The rustling of the leaves behind me, falling down to crowd the earth’s flooring. I brought back the constant crash of waves that I had toned out until now. Up to the time that I needed to hear it the most. The soft dirt that I could feel between my socks as it caused them to become slightly moist.

            I felt pure again, and closed my eyes. The darkness made the sounds so much clearer and I smelled the air. The last smell I would smell turned out to be the smell of the foam from the sea. The salty taste that the smell left in your mouth became a ravenous thing that I needed to feel. The same salt that I tasted would soon wash through my hair and touch my skin, causing it to grow clammy and cold. So I had apparently felt the pleasant sensation of being dead before, if that was how it truly felt like.

            My left foot then pushed from the excitement. Next came my right sinking into the ground because of the sheer force the thrust gave. I went directly into overdrive, keeping my eyes closed and letting the adrenaline run through my veins. I heard my heart pumping and my breath increasing, getting louder with each exhale. It was coming soon, and all I had to do was to keep myself moving.

            That’s right Brent. Left foot, then right foot. Keep the beat going, let it get faster if you must. Rushing this music would be okay, even better. It would actually make sense, and let the composition grow to a rousing climax. 

Left, Right. Ba-bum, Ba-bum. Go right with your pulsing heart, as fast as the blood flowing through your easily breakable veins. Left, Right. Ba-bum, Ba-bum. sigh, sigh, sigh. A triplet was working itself into my song, an alto choosing to blend into the Bass and tenors. Left, Right. Ba-bum, Ba-bum. Sigh, sigh, sigh. Screech, screech. Ah the soprano, completing all the sections’ jobs that joined in. It was an unrecognizable, higher pitched sound, but just another sound to add to the mix. It was just something to help me finish my life’s composition.

            Now that it was almost completed, I opened my eyes. There were about fifteen more measures left, soon to end with a hovering note. A note that would decrescendo into a easy going rest. It was over soon. I would be at the ledge.   I had no second thoughts. No worries of leaving. No more regrets. No anything.

 

Reviews

[Vesa Lee]

One thing you might consider revising: The flower part.
Although this is a key part of the story on your mind, it sort of trips up the reader with it's length.
Good write either way.