Donny entered his bedroom and opened a small perspex tank which lay at the bottom of his wardrobe, he carefully opened its lid and picked up four crickets, “time for you little guys to meet your maker” he said to himself whilst smiling wryly. The crickets were his pet Bearded Dragon Abaddon's dinner, Donny moved the crickets carefully in his hand over to a grandiose glass tank which sat upon his work desk. Abaddon knew it was feeding time and moved closer towards the glass with suprising pace in anticipation, Donny opened the sliding glass door with his free hand and threw the crickets in to thier untimely doom, it was a matter of seconds before the spiney lizard devoured all of his meal.
*
“Come quick, come quick! Putiel the wise one is making an announcement” a cricket shouted to reuben and semaiah whilst scurrying in the direction of the large crowd that was gathered in the town centre, there was commotion all around whenever Putiel made a speech, he was the wisest cricket in all the land and whenever he talked the crickets listened with great earnest, Reuben turned to his trusted friend Semaiah “lets go friend, Putiel is bound to say something important”, Semaiah nodded in agreement and made way to the thronging crowd.
Putiel was a very fat cricket, he was the oldest in town and over the years he had accumulated a great knowledge of life, death, and all that existed and everybody admired him for that reason. A dead silence fell over the crowd as Putiel the great made his way to the stage, which was a decaying piece of apple. “Good day my friends, i am here before you today to mourn the loss of all our brothers and sisters, they have been taken from us too early i know, but you all must realise they are passing to a greater place called heaven, our god has decided that these crickets are needed more there than in our town, so let us now bow our heads and say a few words for the fallen. Once Putiel the greats speech had come to an end Reuben and Semaiah walked to a secluded area of the town, “my belly is aching Semaiah, how long has it been since we have eaten my friend?, three or four days?” Semaiah was quite intelligent, he had studied in Putiel's private education program for longer than Reuben could remember, Semaiah took a moment to anwser the question, “you are right Reuben, it has been a long time since we have eaten but have faith, our maker will fill our bellies in due time, i am sure of this much.” Reuben laughed out loud, “you really are crazy Semaiah, I hope you are right because if not we will be eating eachother soon!” The pair laughed and talked together until it was time to sleep. Reuben lay in his plot and fell asleep with an empty belly, his mind was dancing with thoughts of glorious food.
*
Donny was chopping fruit hastily, feeding crickets wasn't really a task he enjoyed or cared for, but it benefitted his Lizard so he put up with it. The better the food the healthier the animal and since Abbadon lived on a diet of veg and crickets he had to make sure that he got the fattest crickets possible. The young man had become an amateur at animal husbandry without even knowing it.
*
Reuben was awoken from a restless sleep to the chirps of happy crickets, he ran from his plot over to a neighbour who's name he did not know, “what is all the commotion about?” he asked in earnest, The nameless cricket had a broad smile on his face, “did you not hear? Putiel the great has recieved a gift from the gods, oranges glorious oranges! And banana too!, go to the town centre, he is still handing them out. For a hungry cricket like Reuben that was all he needed to hear, he hopped over to the square where the food was stacked in abundance. Putiel and his two minders were sitting on top of the food monitoring peoples portion intake, this was a hugely important task as they never knew when they were to be fed again, that was a matter for god's to determine, not mere crickets. Before Reuben touched the food he heard the laboured wheeze of Putiel, “Good morning young cricket! Eat and be merry 'til your belly is full” Then his voice lowered, “but remember the god's gifts dont last forever so savour every bite”. Reuben had not heard the last part, he was too busy enjoying the luxury of food, each bite of the moist and juicy fruit was like tasing heaven and he relished every moment, when his stomach was full he decided he would go and find Semaiah and discuss the events of this busy morning.
He found Semaiah beside the well, which in actual reality was just a plastic jar top filled with water by Donny. Semaiah seen Reuben from a distance and made his way past the usual throng of the well and over to the relative calm of the uninhabited plots, which again were just empty egg cartons, the two friends began to chat in the relative calm. “Isen't it a great day brother?” said Semaiah with a wide grin on his face, Reuben scratched his face with his little front leg and said cooly “Yeah.. a great day, the same as any other day that the Lord blesses us with but i just cant shake the worry in my mind”. His trusted friends smile began to fade, “whats the problem Reuben?” said Semaiah with a sound of genuine concern in his voice. “It's just i get this feeling sometimes that Putiel knows something we dont, why does he control who gets certain amounts of food?, and why must he have his own private plot?, its over crowded here enough as it is, you could easily fit 100 or more crickets in his plot.. So why must he insist on it being private?” Reuben felt liberated after his critique of Putiel and was eager for answers. Semaiah's smile had now dissapeared and his tone turned to that of anger, “I would advise you to stop speaking so ill of Putiel the great, He has eyes and ears everywhere you know. The reason he has such a big plot is because he has been here longest, crickets come and go but Putiel remains constant and he is also the only cricket with the power to talk to our Lord almighty so i think thats reason enough for him to have his own plot” He said with a sniping bite. Reuben looked sheepish, “you are right my friend, i am sorry. I realise the good he has done for us, education, food, water and comfort, I, I dont know what came over me at all actually, I am sorry, but i must return home now.” he muttered, he knew his friend was biased as a result of his education, “and i am sorry too, so dont look so down” said Semaiah with a smile, Reuben nodded and made his way home, en route he would pass Putiels plot.
Reuben had decided it was time he enrolled in college just like his good friend, it was time to swallow his reluctance, and the great cricket Putiel ran the only one in town. As he turned past a crowd of busy crickets he could see the overlord's vast plot, It was guarded by two helpers at the front, Reuben did not know why the plot needed guards as there was never violence in this town, but nonetheless he was sure it was for ample reason. As he got to the outskirts he could hear commotion from inside the plot, the commotion was in fact shouting, It was one voice and he knew it well.. It was Putiel.
“They ate how much?” screamed Putiel, Reuben could not hear the other voice as it was much more subdued so Reuben would just have to make do with Putiel's voice, he felt guilty listening like this but it was obviously a worthwhile conversation to tune in to. “Those greedy little scum, taking my food, and how long will it be before that human feeds us again? Hopefully he kills all those ignorant little crickets!”. Reuben's mouth dropped, he could not believe what he was hearing, he knew he had to tell Semaiah, but he was not finished here yet as Putiel was still shouting. “He can come, take them all for all i care, I am safe here and he has never caught me, There is enough food stowed away here for me to live quite happily for as long as i wish!” His voice less angry now and more vehement, “let them rot!” Reuben had heard enough, it was time he got to Semaiah and told him about Putiel “The Great”.
Reuben scuttled to Semaiah's plot as fast as his little legs would allow but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, He asked neighbours of his whereabouts with an immense sense of urgency but they hadn't seen his friend. Reuben needed to see Semaiah, afterall this information was enough to change their little town intirely. He tried the well, the feeding area, and even where Putiel made his announcements but he wasnt there, he had searched for hours and decided to go to bed, there would be plenty of time to find his pal tomorrow.
As night grew near Reuben lay his head down and began to think of the days events. “So Putiel has never really spoken to the lord, it was all a rouse to keep him fat and wealthy.” Suddenly Reuben's stomach sank with dread as a more important question was burned into the fore front of his mind, what was that thing that was picking them out from the sky? It was most certainly not of devine origin that much was for certain, where did these poor crickets go?, he did not know for sure as he had spent his entire life in this cage which he called home and Putiel was the only cricket of other worldly origin, all the others from the old times had died or were picked off by whatever monstosity hunted them, Reuben then wondered if Putiel had somehow dispatched the elder's in an effort to gain dominance and control, It was indeed very possible for he had learned today more powerful information than any other cricket had ever learned, information that proved his leader was only interested in himself, Putiel was in fact the bad guy, and the huge object which picked them from the sky was not god or an angel, it was a Human, what ever that may be. He decided it was time to at least attempt to get some rest for he had a long day ahead of him, tomorrow would be the day he would rally Semaiah to his cause and confront Putiel.
*
Donny was in his bedroom laying down with his girlfriend Christina, He was playing his guitar aimlessly while his girlfriend was trying to vie for his attention. “Seriously Chrissy, i'll be finished soon, im just practicing this pain in the ass song, i can never get it right”, Christina let out a purposeful sigh, “ ugh whatever Donny” she said with exasperation. Donny looked across his room, Abaddon was running around his cage looking for food with no luck. “That lizard is always hungry, im sorry Chrissy i'll be with you in a minute.” He leaned across to his girlfriend to try for a kiss, but was rejected swiftly. “Suit yourself” said Donny as he climbed out of bed and picked out a handfull of crickets from thier tank, Abaddon almost jumped through the glass in excitement of his feed, Donny threw the crickets in, closed the cage door, and ran to the bed to try and win back his hard to impress girlfriend.
*
Reuben was dreaming, In the dream he was the ruler of his town and all crickets respected him, he was the king and Putiel had been dethroned, he was running things dilligently and everbody was happy, when food was supplied he would divide it by the number of crickets in the town, everyone got equal and it was enough to ration until more food was supplied, this way there was no hungry bellies. In his dreamland he lived on Putiels old plot, he had a loyal and loving wife and numerous happy children, he had granted his advisor Semaiah part of his plot and he too lived there happily with his family, suddenly he heard commotion outside his palace, it was a crowd of hundred's and they wanted Reuben dead, he was frightened but decided to go outside and reason with them but there was no one there. By the time Reuben had regained conciousness it was already too late, he was snared by something and couldn't move, he heard screaming crickets everywhere but could not see them, it was at this moment he realised what had happened, he was in the grasp of whatever it was that Putiel had described as human.
There was flashes of light, Reuben had seen things he did not understand and his mind was racing, suddenly it felt as if his body was torn in two, after a few minutes he partially regained his senses although he could hardly see, the light was so bright that he was almost blinded by its brilliance. He now found himself running, he did not know why but felt like it was the best option, there was screams from fellow crickets all around but he did not know where they were. The startled little insect drew in a deep breath and decided to see what was around him, he seen a huge log, he had been told of these by Semaiah, apparently they were relics of the old world, they had never been in his town so this place.. wherever it was, was obviously very old, a mound of stones lay in a pile to his right and then there was the bright sun, he could feel it's heat scorch him. Reuben felt the ground tremble and slowly grew more frightened which he thought impossible, suddenly a huge monster emerged from behind the log, it had spines and scales and it was running straight at him.
Reuben turned quickly and ran for the pile of stones, he could feel the creature gain ground on him, his legs were now tired and he was running purely on fear. A crushing pain coursed through his body, the creature had snapped one of his legs, instinctively he jumped and landed in a gap between the stones, he was safe.. for now. The little cricket spent the night crying and his voice had now gone hoarse from calling for help, there was never a response, his comrades must have been eaten by that horrible beast. Never before had reuben felt so lonely, he missed his home and his friend, he even missed the safety brought by Putiel's regime, he was sure he would die here alone.
*
Donny yawned as he woke up, he turned and looked at chrissy who was reading some nonsensical anti establishment book, “hey babe.” he said with a grin, she put down her book and turned to him, “Donny, i think we should talk”, her demeanor told Donny that this would be a long morning. “Ok, whats up?” he said inquisitively, Christina's voice was serious now. “Well it's just lately you seem distant and im..” She was cut off by the trademark shreek of Abaddon's claws scraping at his glass cage for food, her voice contorted with anger. Donny got out of bed, “im really sorry chrissy i just have to feed this little shit then im with you one hundred percent ok?” he said whilst opening his wardrobe and grabbing some crickets. The gilted lover opened the tank and threw Abaddons meal in
for him, as he turned he seen that Chrissie had hurriedly put on her clothes and had left his room making a b-line for her car. “Babe wait!!” he screamed as he tried to put his jeans on, managing to fall over in the process. “fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” he shouted as he ran downstairs after his fleeing girlfriend, The scene was a comical one, Donny with his pants slowly falling down trying to barter with his frustrated partner in the middle of the street, little did he know that Abaddon's cage door had been left open during all the comotion.
*
Semaiah was afraid, he too was now in the scorched desert, and his friends were being eaten by this mysterious leviathan but he could do nothing as he was paralysed with fear. Reuben seen Semaiah but knew he had to be careful, this manoever needed to be timed to perfection, the wounded cricket had seen that there was now an escape route and it was imperative that this move was made with absolute perfection . “Do or die” he said to himself, he took a deep breath and emerged from the pile of rocks and moved as quick as he could. “Semaiah! He shouted, but there was no answer from his startled friend, Reuben knew he had to think fast as he was approaching Semaiah quickly and if he stopped they would surely both be eaten alive, “come with me Semaih!, come with me!” shouted Reuben as loud as he could, alas there was still no response from his dazed friend so the brave cricket decided courageously to tackle Semaiah mid spint in an effort to get him to move. The charging little cricket hunched into his friend with all the might he could muster, Semaiah tumbled across the floor, he looked up at Reuben with a scared look. “what, what is this place?” he said with fear in his voice, “no time to talk, lets go!!”. Reuben's leg was bleeding badly, the running had caused it, but thankfully he had five more and the pain would just have to be forgotten about until they escaped this hell hole, “im with you friend!” yelled Semaiah, who was just behind Reuben. The weak cricket could now see the opening, it was close now so he braced himself for impact and leaped with his very last ounces of strength. The two crickets had escaped the dragons den and were now in a new and alien world.
The pair had found a hiding place in a dark corner, both were dazed and it had taken a lot of time for them to grasp the situation at hand. They were in a strange environment with no food, no warmth and no safety, despite all this there was something that strangely enticed Reuben, he knew the likleyhood of death was very high, and worsened still because of his wounded leg, but he felt a burning curiosity in his mind to explore this new world, the wounded cricket daern't tell Semaiah because he had already made it apparent that he wanted to go home, this much was to be expected of him, he thought, as they had both seen sights of horror that no cricket had ever seen.. It was turning to night time now, the air had grown desperately cold, so the two crickets huddled together for warmth. Reuben turned to Semaiah, his colour was draining from blood loss, he knew at the back of his mind that he didn't have very long left to live, “what do we do now friend?” he whispered weakly, Semaiah thought to himself for a moment before he opened his mouth, “i think we should get back to the town.. wherever it may be, Putiel must be wondering where we are.”, he paused for a moment and decided to continue as Reuben looked like he needed convincing further still, “I mean we have seen the other side my friend, and that side wasn't heaven but hell, this leads me to believe our brethren and us are living sinfully, we must improve out faith so god is appeased”. Suddenly all the memories of Putiels rant coursed through Reubens mind, it had seemed as if those events happened years ago as they were instantly over looked when he had looked upon the great demon, but it was certainly time to tell his friend, if he died then no one else would know and he could not let that happen. “Semaiah, do you remember the day we had our last feast?, and when i walked home after our talk?”. His friend looked confused but nodded in acknowledgement, “well, i over heard Putiel and he said that our god was in fact something called “human”, i do not know what this means but he doesnt seem to be looking after our interest, as u have seen for yourself, the fiend doesn't stop there though, he is taking food secretly and keeping it for himself.”, Reuben was out of breath, he waited for his friends reply. Semaiah looked at Reuben angrily, he looked as if he was about to attack his friend, “how dare you say that?, shame on you Reuben, you really dont understand it do you?, and you never will, you are weak willed, and a heretic!”His furious friend made his way out of the crack in the corner, Reuben was taken aback by the malice in Semaiah's voice, “stop friend, you cant leave its too dangerous out there” he shouted with anguish, “ i would rather die a hero than keep company with a heretic!” and with that Semaiah took off into the darkness. “Wait!” screamed Reuben, but it was too late. The wounded cricket was alone in the dark once more.
Dawn had broken and Reuben had not slept, there was too many noises, whether it be the demon or the human he did not know but he didn't fancy investigating. He worried about Semaiah, he had left and gone deep into the unknown, his safety concerned him greatly. The injured little creature felt a small amount of respite from the pain caused by his leg from resting, it was now time for him to follow in Semaiahs footsteps. During the night he had made the decision that he would return to the town to start a revolution against Putiel and his regime so he drew in a deep breath and stepped out into the alien world.
Reuben could see the human clearly, he was sitting in a chair and reading, this of course was entirely foriegn to a cricket but Reuben knew well enough to stay away. He scurried across the floor as quick as he could and found a shadowy place not too far from where he had came, This was the perfect opportunity for him to take in his vast environment, everything he could see was bizarre, but somewhere in the distance to the north of him was a familiar structure. It was home. Reubens injured limb was throbbing but not badly enough to hinder him as he now had his eyes fixed on his target, he found himself moving rapidly and as if he was on autopilot. After some hours he was at the foot of a cliff, he had to scale it because his town was on top. Reuben jumped with what little energy he had left, he would never have been prepared for what lay before him.
Semaiahs corpse was directly at Reubens feet, he had almost landed on top of him. The sense of loss overwhelmed him. “I am sorry brother.” he said solemnly, “but your death will not be in vain, i promise you that.”. Reuben said some final words and crawled slowly to the outside of his town, he had no way of passing through the geart barrier, it was see through but impassable. Reuben banged his body against the barrier to gain help, there was none. The town was eerily silent. The cricket decided to walk further down the line of the boundary to see if he could find any signs of activity. Reuben could see a mound which had never been in his town before there was something going on around that general area too, he tried to make out what was going on. His mouth dropped in horror when he got a better view.
There was a mound of dead crickets stacked hastily at the edge of the town, and on top of it was Putiel. He was eating the same crickets that had loved and supported him, he was much fatter now. Reuben was taken aback by this sight, there were too many questions to ask and no one to answer them, he banged against the barrier furiously, “Putiel you pig! Come here! I will kill you!” he shouted with venom, but Putiel did not even see him let alone hear him, he was too busy feeding, the greedy leader had consumed all fruit, and when that was done he had eaten his own kind without remorse. Reuben felt weak again, he knew he would never get back into his town and even if he did what would he do?, there was nothing there for him, no cickets to help him build a better life and no food save for that which was provided by the human. He decided to scale back down the cliff and find somewhere to sleep, why he wanted to sleep he did not know. Why he wanted to live was just as big of a question, he had nothing anymore and was entirely alone so what was the point? He pushed it away from his thoughts and moved instinctively. The dying cricket crawled along the floor until he found some soft material, “this is as good a place to die as any.” he thought to himself morbidly. He layed down and felt his body slow down, it wasnt long before the darkness came.
*
“Ok Chrissie, i'll be over soon” said Donny as he put his mobile phone back in his pocket. He was now a happy man, his turbulent relationship had been calmed.. at least for the moment. He picked up his shoes and tee from the ground and put them on. Little did he know that there was a passenger hidden away on the back of his shirt. The summer sun felt comforting on Donny's face, it was the warmest it had been in weeks and he was looking forward to a day hanging out at the beach with his girlfriend.
*
Reuben did not know where he was but he felt that he was moving fast even though his legs werent moving, he was clinging on with all his might but his strength had diminished greatly and after a few minutes he was forced to let go and fade into the abyss.
It was a fresh breeze which awoke Reuben. He was in a paradise, it was beautiful, there was food as far as the eye could see, glorious shades of blue radiated over head, all around him was lush vegetation full of greens, reds and yellows and there was musical noises coming from the trees above him. This was the first time that the little cricket had felt joy for as long as he could remember, it soon subsided however, he could probably regain strength here and rescue survivors from the town, if there was any. Reuben looked up and seen two alien creatures swirl and dance together, it was a beautiful sight, it was at this moment that he realised there was no saving those crickets, they could not understand freedom and probably never will, they were too caught up in self importance and routine, besides they would only ruin this paradise with the same rules that killed them all. Reuben decided it was time to let go of the past and hopped through the grass with ecstasy.
END
Epilogue
I did this crazy little story when i was looking at a box of crickets which i was feeding to my Bearded Dragon. I suppose this story contains a lot of my beliefs as well as opinions, Growing up in Catholic Ireland it wasn't really until i was eight-teen or nineteen that i felt comfortable in my beliefs so i used Reuben as a vehicle for my own experiences to come to literal fruition!!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Blogging all over the world
Hello all
I am new to this blog malarkey but i thought it would be a good way for me to post up some crap im writing as well as my thoughts on various subjects.. However unimportant or irrelevant they may be.
Thats the beauty of a blog i suppose, It's my universe in which i can talk as much shite as i wish and i guess it's up to you guys to decipher if it's interesting enough to read.
Thanks for reading this far...
Rob
"I think there's a difference between intelligence and knowledge. There are plenty of people with letters after their names who only know figures and dates. It's possible to know a lot of facts but not know anything at all." Richey Edwards
I am new to this blog malarkey but i thought it would be a good way for me to post up some crap im writing as well as my thoughts on various subjects.. However unimportant or irrelevant they may be.
Thats the beauty of a blog i suppose, It's my universe in which i can talk as much shite as i wish and i guess it's up to you guys to decipher if it's interesting enough to read.
Thanks for reading this far...
Rob
"I think there's a difference between intelligence and knowledge. There are plenty of people with letters after their names who only know figures and dates. It's possible to know a lot of facts but not know anything at all." Richey Edwards
Sunday, June 6, 2010
My Creation
The following is a story i churned out one night after watching a documentary called "Home". I was appaled at what that show showed me and was inspired to do a little story. I cant talk about it without ruining my story so just read on and enjoy..
***
My eyes strained to take in my surroundings, the view was one I have seen millions of times, one bright light forever burning my face and complete darkness surrounding that ever scorching light. I cant escape it and yet I have tried so many times. Where I am has no sound, only faint groans which come and go. It is complete solitude and I crave company, “too much thinking” “I’m so lonely” “please help me” these are the thought’s I’ve uttered to myself over and over again and even though I decided years ago that I couldn’t go on I am still here. “why is that?” I hear you ask, Well the reason is because my self inflicted exile has allowed life to flourish and create absolutely beautiful things beyond my wildest dreams. There where great times, when I was in harmony with my body as well as my mind, but gradually those times have disappeared.
I have tried multiple times to end my life, and my body carries the scars. I can feel them every day and they mock me, why? Because I have never done it right, they mock my immense failure. I am being so selfish but I don’t care anymore, I have spent what seems like centuries creating a cancer to kill myself, one that will slowly strip me of my flesh from the inside out and drain me of my very life force. It is beautiful, almost perfect, it will spread quicker than plagues of locust and consume everything healthy in my body until it has taken all my life, once it has finished it’s task it will fade without a trace or a memory, a scream or a sigh.
The cancer has begun to spread, I feel myself growing ever weaker, It is now almost absolute. Quite poetic in a way, As I get weaker it gets stronger yet when I die it die’s too. As I have grown older my sadism has grown more wicked. I’ve often laughed to myself thinking about my cancer consuming me, Growing more and more confident with every space it takes over, probing into new unknown territories with great satisfaction at the ripe pastures it see’s. Little does it know that this will end, It’s conquest will be over before it has time to rejoice over it’s spoils, The stupid thing. It can be clever at times I must say, It targets and desecrates my organs with pinpoint accuracy and lets no good go to waste, I feel it everyday. What a beautiful creation.
“A name, That’s it! I need a name for this magnificent disease….“ Ok I’ve got one, One that is as twisted as my mind But allow me to introduce myself first, I have been so rude. My name is Mother Earth and I shall call my disease Mankind.
***
My eyes strained to take in my surroundings, the view was one I have seen millions of times, one bright light forever burning my face and complete darkness surrounding that ever scorching light. I cant escape it and yet I have tried so many times. Where I am has no sound, only faint groans which come and go. It is complete solitude and I crave company, “too much thinking” “I’m so lonely” “please help me” these are the thought’s I’ve uttered to myself over and over again and even though I decided years ago that I couldn’t go on I am still here. “why is that?” I hear you ask, Well the reason is because my self inflicted exile has allowed life to flourish and create absolutely beautiful things beyond my wildest dreams. There where great times, when I was in harmony with my body as well as my mind, but gradually those times have disappeared.
I have tried multiple times to end my life, and my body carries the scars. I can feel them every day and they mock me, why? Because I have never done it right, they mock my immense failure. I am being so selfish but I don’t care anymore, I have spent what seems like centuries creating a cancer to kill myself, one that will slowly strip me of my flesh from the inside out and drain me of my very life force. It is beautiful, almost perfect, it will spread quicker than plagues of locust and consume everything healthy in my body until it has taken all my life, once it has finished it’s task it will fade without a trace or a memory, a scream or a sigh.
The cancer has begun to spread, I feel myself growing ever weaker, It is now almost absolute. Quite poetic in a way, As I get weaker it gets stronger yet when I die it die’s too. As I have grown older my sadism has grown more wicked. I’ve often laughed to myself thinking about my cancer consuming me, Growing more and more confident with every space it takes over, probing into new unknown territories with great satisfaction at the ripe pastures it see’s. Little does it know that this will end, It’s conquest will be over before it has time to rejoice over it’s spoils, The stupid thing. It can be clever at times I must say, It targets and desecrates my organs with pinpoint accuracy and lets no good go to waste, I feel it everyday. What a beautiful creation.
“A name, That’s it! I need a name for this magnificent disease….“ Ok I’ve got one, One that is as twisted as my mind But allow me to introduce myself first, I have been so rude. My name is Mother Earth and I shall call my disease Mankind.
Falling Asleep In A Hollywood Dream
I wrote this story after reading one of those nightmarish glossy celeb mags, I find it disgusting how both people and celebs get drawn into the pure crap that these so called "journalists" produce.
***
The stifling heat awoke Dave slowly. Clumsily he pushed the bed covers off him in an attempt to cool down slightly, turned over on his side and stretched his arm out to his bedside locker. His hand fumbled to find his cigarettes. After a few seconds of pawing around he found them, slowly drew one from its box and lit it. Dave inhaled fast and let the smoke fill his lungs, slowly exhaled and watched it flitter into nothingness. It had been three weeks since he had slept for any longer than three hours. “I need to stop this; can't function anymore; mind becoming erratic.” he told himself with conviction. With that he sat up at the end of his bed, scratched his head and looked around. His large bedroom was in a bad state of neglect. Dirty clothes were strewn about the floor and dishes were turning green with mould. The stench was putrid. “Ah, there it is, damned thing”, he muttered as he snatched his maroon dressing gown from the floor and slipped into it.
As he quickly stubbed out his cigarette Dave stood up, blood rushed to his head and his pupils dilated. His vision was blurry now. He thrust his left arm against the wall to support himself, “Oh God, I feel like shit” he thought in self-pity. His stomach tightened and groaned and with that Dave ran to the en-suite and as he did so he slipped on the glossed black tiles and violently hit his head off the hard surface. Waves of pain pulsed through Dave’s body, “Not again, I cant take this,” he muttered to himself but as he finished his inner monologue he felt a warm burning sensation rising up his oesophagus, His mouth automatically opened to let the vomit pour out as Dave’s nostrils filled with the sickly smell. He felt the warm thick liquid stream down his chin and cheeks. For a moment he just lay there still and mused to himself, “How can I even vomit anymore? I haven’t eaten in three days.” The room filled with a cackling laugh; the laugh of a man who had stooped so low that he could even make hurting himself amusing in his head.
After about fifteen minutes of lying there and laughing at his own sorrows Dave slowly stood up, turned on the faucet and splashed water over his face to wash off the vomit and the water felt good on his skin; it was a small amount of relief in comparison to the mishap he'd endured. He looked up from the sink and into the murky mirror overhead, “God, man, you look horrendous” he said to himself with disdain whilst feeling his face. Dave was a good looking man of twenty-six but the past few weeks had taken their toll on him. His usually immaculate short cut brown hair now hung over his brow and was matted to his scalp. The area surrounding his eyes was composed of various shades of purple, black and yellow and the eyes themselves were almost entirely bloodshot. Wrinkle lines had carved their way deep into his brow and he had now grown an unbecoming beard. This was completely out of character for Dave as he'd always been obsessive about his appearance.
Dave took one more quick glance at himself before he fastened his robe and shambled into the living room. As he opened the door light flooded through his eyes, squinting as they struggled to take in the strong midday sun, “Christ, I need to clean this shit up,” he thought to himself. Magazines were strewn across the floor, his couch was broken in two and empty vodka bottles had taken over the kitchen to where Dave proceeded and boiled some water to make himself a green tea. He struggled with the kettle as he tried to pour water into a cup, “SHIT!!!,” he screamed in agony missing the cup and scalding his feet he cursed again, “Goddamn it; need to focus; need to regain composure.” Dave took in a deep breath and stirred his tea, limped back across the living room and stared out of the huge window. “Hollywood hills: The symbol of celebrity, status and culture.” Pausing for a minute he made a puzzled expression and thought “But what does it all stand for? What does it mean? It’s entirely shallow. Everyone who lives here is a blood-sucking whore who'll cut you down in the name of their public image.” He clenched his fists and his cheeks turned claret. Picking up a glossy magazine from the floor he gazed trance-like at it for some time. “How could they do this to me? The tabloids and their fucking see-saw morals, it's all a show. Ha! 'Natalie Goldman set to marry new hunk.' ” His hands began to shake and scrunching up the magazine in his fist he threw it at the stack of empty vodka bottles and sent one of them crashing to the ground, exploding into hundreds of tiny shards. His mind filled with hate.
“How could that goddamn bitch do this to me? It’s only been two months and she’s engaged, is she for real?” Tears streamed down Dave’s cheeks and his head became heavy with emotion, “Does she have no feelings for me at all anymore? All I ever did was give that girl everything I could and then she cheats on me with some stranger in a nightclub. Not only that but she didn’t have the tact to do it away from cameras? I don’t know who’s worse, her or me. I spent 3 years of my life with her after all but I never thought she was capable of something of that degree. Got to stop thinking like this; I’m going around in circles.” Dave turned away from the window and went over to his answering machine and pressed play. “Hey Dave, it’s Troy. How are you doing, man? Sorry I couldn’t ring sooner, just been really busy. Anyway, get to the point, I’ll drop by at three, see you soon. Oh yeah, I‘ve got what you asked for.” Dave glanced at his watch. It was two-thirty so he'd have just enough time to shower before Troy, his agent, called over.
The broken actor opened the fridge, “Ah, the Devil's brew!!” he said to himself with a grin on his face whilst reaching in and grabbing a fresh bottle of vodka from the seven that were in there. He opened a cupboard above and grabbed a pint glass, placed it on the table and with shaky hands filled it half way. Dave picked up the glass and idly watched the vodka swirl around before downing it all in one go. He felt his stomach warm and his throat burn, It was a feeling he had grown well accustomed to over the past few weeks. In the en suite the smell of vomit almost turned Dave's stomach but he didn’t care as it was the least of his worries. He dropped his robe and stepped into his shower, the warm water was comforting. He closed his eyes and let the alcohol take over.
Dave was woken by the doorbell ringing, he'd fallen asleep standing in the shower having succumbed to the vodka; “One second” he shouted out while stepping out of the shower and putting his robe back on. Staggering down the hall he opened the door sharply. Troy was standing there with a full bin liner. He was a well preserved forty-five year old and had mousey coloured hair which was cut tight to his head, aviator sun glasses sat on his long nose, which he peered over with a sombre look on his face, “Hey Man, how are you holding up?” There was a grave sense of sympathy in Troy’s voice. “I’m good Troy , real good. Come in.” Troy knew in his heart that Dave was not OK, but decided to indulge him for fear of enraging his long-term client. The pair walked down the hallway, Dave turning to Troy with a smile: “Do you like the new look? I’m trying out something new, a kind of New Age hippy thing.” Troy looked up at Dave with a false grin, “Yeah, You look great kid.”, “Thanks”, replied Dave with a big smile but Troy could see that Dave’s teeth had yellowed severely since they'd last met and that his breath smelled rancid. He loathed seeing Dave like this. The pair went into the living room and Dave turned to Troy with an earnest in his eyes, “Empty the bag” he said with a bitter tone in his voice. “Are you sure Dave?” countered Troy with an air of reluctance. Dave moved forward, intimidating, “Just empty the bag” almost losing his temper, feeling his heart beat rising and his stomach flutter with anticipation.
Leaning forward Troy picked up the bag, tipping its contents on to the white marble floor. “Here they are, just like you asked. This is pretty much every article either you or Natalie have appeared in since things went bad.” But Dave wasn’t listening, he was on his hands and knees frantically pawing through the magazines. He looked up at Troy with wild eyes, flailing a magazine in his hand, “Have you seen this? I mean, come on!” The article's title read “Naughty Nat up to no good!” and underneath was a picture of her straddling a unknown man in a glitzy nightclub. Troy’s heart broke for Dave, he looked at him and saw the hollow shell of the man he once was. His hair was filthy, eyes sore and vacant, finger nails crusted with dirt, cheeks sunken and taught and a straggly beard. It was a far cry from the man who'd been awarded two Oscars and had been to Africa on numerous aid missions. “Yeah I saw it, Dave. She isn’t worth thinking about anymore. I mean what she did to you was disgusting.” But Dave wouldn’t answer, rather fixating on the brightly coloured trash on the floor.
Troy moved away from Dave, sat in an armchair, gazed out of the window and reflected. Four months ago his client was the hottest property in Hollywood and now the media had raped him, sucked him of his integrity, and spat him out. It wasn’t long before both Natalie and Dave had become targets, Natalie for obvious reasons and Dave because he'd 'Let himself go.' Troy’s mind grew heavy. How could they do that to people? Didn't they realise that actors are just human too? Just people like anyone else except their lives are in the spotlight and that in itself makes the ridiculous amounts of money they get paid justifiable. Suddenly Dave hopped in front of Troy, flicking through the pages of a magazine, “Sorry Troy I’m being rude, how are you? Have I had any job offers?” That put Troy on the spot; there hadn’t been any studio calls regarding Dave at all but he knew he couldn’t offend him either so tried to skirt the issue , “Ah I’m ok, same old story as always” Dave who was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of Troy peered up at him with an eager look, “So what about jobs?” Troy shifted uneasily in his seat and placed his hand on the side of his head, “Well there haven’t exactly been many man”, Dave looked up from his magazine confused, “What do you mean?” since Dave‘s first big movie he'd gotten used to rejecting hundreds of offers. Troy sighed “I mean there's been no acting offers, only tabloids wanting your side of the break-up.” The afternoon's visitor hoping not to offend his trusted charge accepted there was no way to avoid it. Dave was a passionate actor and the thought of talking to the tabloids about his private life apppalled him,so Troy cringed in anticipating Dave’s reply.
Looking up from the magazine Dave stared blankly at Troy and an uncomfortable silence followed. The actor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, “I cant do that” he said calmly while looking back down at the magazine. Troy was surprised by Dave’s nonchalant answer which encouraged him to further understand his reasoning, “Why not?,” he asked in plain honesty. Dave put the magazine to one side and uncrossed his legs, “Why not? Why not?” Dave let out a quiet chuckle, “I’ll tell you why not. Because all my life I’ve taken the path of honesty, integrity, and dignity and even though I’ve adhered to that philosophy I’ve ended up on the bottom you know?” Dave leaned forward in his chair, “And I’ll tell you why.” He grabbed the magazine he had been holding and began to shake it and point at it, his voice rising, “These people have killed me inside, and for what? To sell more copy. It’s despicable.” Dave started to flick through the pages frantically, “Ah here it is, 'Dave West’s Meltdown!'” The article contained various pictures of the fallen star of which some were taken during his brief public appearances, while others were clearly taken from the hills surrounding his apartment, highlighting the various states he had been in. Pictures of him pushing paparazzi away or standing at his window semi-clothed with a bottle of vodka in hand. He read out snippets of the article, “ 'Dave west has wasted away'. 'Delusional'. 'A broken man.' ” Troy cut him short as Dave was about to say more, “Don’t listen to that garbage, it’s all sensationalised nonsense. It‘ll do you no good believing it.” Dave was biting his fingernails hard, still reading the article unphased. ”Ok, ok! You wont believe this” and drawing a deep breath proceeded to read the article aloud: “ 'Meanwhile his glamorous ex, Nat, lives it up in Spain with her new hunk. Turn to page 49 for her exclusive interview'. ” Dave put the magazine down and walked over to the fridge, “Why do people believe these lies? And why is she making money by selling me out?”, he asked while pulling out the already half empty vodka bottle. Before troy had time to answer the questions Dave took a large gulp directly from the bottle and continued talking, “Does that girl have no dignity? Or is she just playing their game? Do they forget what she did to me? Or are they glad she did it to me? I just don’t know anymore and I cant believe she is feeding their ever hungry venomous mouths like this. That isn’t the girl I loved, but it seems she is full of surprises these days.” Dave was eyeballing his favourite stimulant. He let out a sorrowful sigh and downed some more.
Troy got up from his seat, walked over to Dave and hastily tried to grab the bottle but he pulled away from him, “Come on, man, just give me the bottle” he said with his arm stretched out as if trying to beckon it to him. Dave cowered backward, cradling the bottle. “ I'm fine,I’m fine. I don’t see what the problem is.” He snapped and Troy grew impatient with his friend, “You don’t see the problem? Really? You believe that, do you?” He felt himself growing angry, Dave stepped back again, surprised at Troy’s remarks. He put the bottle on the counter saying “No I don’t see the problem. Not at all, in fact.” Troy’s hand slid down his face with frustration, “What 's happened to you Dave? Come on, lets be honest here, you’re a complete wreck. What's gotten into you? Four months ago you were the great David West, two-time academy award winner, What she did to you was inexcusable, I know, but you've got to forget her, I mean she isn’t wasting any time getting on so she doesn’t even deserve the thoughts in your head.” Dave began to laugh hysterically which completely puzzled and angered Troy, “What? What’s so funny?” Troy snapped at Dave and whilst buckling over with laughter the actor looked up and replied, “It’s a new look, I’ve told you that already and as for that daughter of a whore, well I’ve told you already I loathe the ground she walks on.” Dave regained composure, stood upright and said with a smile, “I’m fine Troy, really.” Troy had reached boiling point and knew that his long-term client and friend was blatantly telling lies to his face. He lost all composure and grabbed Dave by the collar of his robe, little resistance was offered and before he knew it Troy had him up against the wall, “Don't you see what you’ve done to yourself? You’re a wreck, You look like shit, And it’s all because of her, Just let go, You let that Bitch out;. of your head because you can reassure yourself that you have kept your dignity, Your pride, And Your self worth, What does she have? Nothing, Its all a lie, All fucking smile’s and rainbows for the public but I guarantee you that when show time is over so are her smiles.”, Troy looked into Dave‘s eyes, He was staring back at him timidly, Almost in tears, It was at this moment that he realised what he had just done and let go of Dave, “I’m sorry, I,I, Didn’t mean to do that, I don’t know what came over me, I’m just trying to look out for you”, Dave collapsed to the floor and curled himself in a ball, The adrenalin flowing through his body made him feel weak and sick. He looked up at Troy with blood red eyes, “Get out now,”he said slowly through clenched teeth and Troy took a step back holding his hands up as if to signify innocence, “Look I’m sorry Dave, It just angers me to see you like this because I know there’s nothing I can say or do to help.” Dave’s head lay on the cold marble, he was staring seemingly at nothing, “Get out and leave me be”, he said, this time with no conviction but more of a hollow tone; Troy’s head hung low, “Ok, I’ll leave then, but you call me if you want to talk.” Dave lay still and expressionless, he did not answer Troy, nor looked at him, just listened to the sound of footsteps and then heard the door slam shut. He was alone once more.
An hour had passed and Dave was still lying on the ground, his finger tracing idly along the lines of the tiles whilst thinking about Natalie. He thought about the good times they'd spent together in this very apartment; the days when they would curl up together on the couch and talk about each other’s hectic lifetyles; the nights when they lay in bed together where not even the paparazzi could get their claws into them. A sentimental smile crept across his face but as always the tragedy seeped into his mind. The betrayal, the disregard for his emotions, the soiling of his once sacred memories which she regurgitated to the tabloids for money. He grew angry, slamming his fist repeatedly on the marble whilst writhing on the floor as if his mental anguish had manifested in him physically, but he decided enough was enough and slowly rose to his feet. The old familiar blood rush kicked in once he stood up, but he didn’t mind, “Time for me to get back on track”, he said with conviction whilst making his way to the bathroom. This time he stepped into the main bathroom, unable to face the smell of vomit in his en suite. It was a grand room filled with all the sterility of modern design. The fading daylight gave the room a comforting orange hue and Dave dragged his feet along the cool floor then stood in front of the large mirror. He decided it was time to shave and at least look semi-respectable if he was to find his acting feet again. He filled up the sink at the foot of the large mirror and applied some shaving foam to his face, finding it difficult to shave through his scraggly beard. “Fuck!”, he muttered to himself whilst wincing from the pain of cutting his face. Twenty minutes after finishing and his face looked like it had been attacked by a small animal, he then decided that shaving whilst drunk was not the greatest idea in the world, however he was pleased at how he looked. He was beginning to see remnants of his old self.
Dave stepped into the living room with a smile on his face, feeling small signs of progress for the first time in months. He sat on an armchair, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Tomorrow will be the day: The day I throw my problems away, start fresh, change my direction and start that goddamn screenplay I’ve been harping on about for the past few years. Get away from the camera. Get away from the limelight and be myself again, he thought to himself optimistically as his smile grew wider. Dave pulled a loose cigarette from his gown pocket, It was bent and crumpled but it would have to suffice as he didn’t want to look for the box. He grabbed a lighter from the floor and lit up his cigarette. He stretched out in his arm chair, gazed out of the window and thought about nothing in particular, which made him happy. He hadn’t had a clear mind space in a long time. Dave let the peace blanket him and lost consciousness.
After what seemed like days Dave woke up with a groan, He checked his watch it was 10:00 pm. His eyes focused on the half bottle of vodka sitting invitingly on the kitchen counter top, He had a playful grin on his tired face, “One last night of debauchery wont hurt, I must have a fitting goodbye to my old comrade, The great vodka!.”, He rose from his seat sporting a look of lust on his face and half danced over to the bottle picking it up quickly and downing it all, He let out a gruff grunt and wiped the excess away which had dribbled down his chin, His stomach was on fire but he paid little attention because tonight was his last night of fun. “Music, That’s it, I need music!.”, His reaction to his thoughts suggested he had a great epiphany, In reality it was in fact more mundane. He walked to his sound system and fumbled with the buttons for a while, He stood back from the machine, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” echoed through the apartment, His father had instilled a good knowledge of classical music in him, And Moonlight sonata always invoked a deep sense of nostalgia in him. Dave turned away from the stereo whilst humming his favourite composition, The alcohol had taken over and he was staggering and hiccupping, He ambled to the fridge and took out another bottle of vodka, He most certainly didn’t need it but that didn’t cross his mind, There was a magazine on the floor which caught his eye, The headline read, “Natalie’s wedding plans.”, It didn’t hurt anymore, The articles, The loss, The loneliness, He had reached his emotional thresh hold and was at a comfortable level of numbness so he awkwardly picked it up off the floor and sat back in his arm chair, Slugging from the bottle and flicking through the pages. Dave read through the article, It detailed her lavish wedding to her new man, involving all sorts of grandiose amusements and over the top furnishings, Natalie’s husband to be was a sickly rich Wall street business man by the name of Michael Anshel, so there was no doubt in Dave’s mind that she would be spoiled rotten by him, He never knew her to be like this but then again he doubted if he ever really knew her to begin with or if it was all just for the media, He exhaled deeply and took another swig of vodka.
Dave sat in his chair looking at pictures of his ex frolicking on a boat in some tropical waters with Michael, she looked so happy, and so did he. Dave flung the magazine to the ground, He could feel emotion and sentiment creep back into his head so he made the conscious effort to snub them out, alcohol had always been good for that, He looked at the bottle and mumbled “Good for you Natalie, good for you.” sarcastically whilst taking another large slug, He was now severely inebriated and his train of thought had been derailed. Dave felt a warm sensation trickle down his leg, He had soiled himself but he didn’t care, He feebly raised the bottle to his mouth and drank the bottle until there was no more, He missed his mouth several times and was now covered in vodka, He looked around the room as if he was looking for someone, His eyes opened and closed slowly, “More.”, He said aloud, no reply, only silence, He let out a loud scream as if was a distressed gorilla and slid off his seat. The ground was cool and refreshing, Dave crawled on hands and knees to the fridge, It was a painfully slow affair but he didn’t care much for time in his current state. The cool white light of the refrigerator made his pupils shrink, He winced for a moment and pawed around until he produced yet another bottle. Dave reached up and placed the vodka on the counter and clumsily rose to his feet using it as support, He could barely see anymore as his vision was severely blurred, “Bed.” He said to himself like a Neanderthal, It seemed so far away yet it was only a few metres, He zig zagged out of the living room and into the hall which was pitch black, He considered finding the light switch but it seemed like too much effort at the time, he took three steps into the dark, while lamely trying to feel his way around he fell hard, forcefully hitting his head off the ground but the pain didn’t register, there was only a dull ringing in his ears. Dave had managed to make it to his bed, He lay still looking into the darkness and drank his vodka slowly, He closed his eyes and confronted his conscience, His arm’s dropped limp by his side spilling vodka on himself and soaking the mattress but he didn’t care, He was past that and all the pain of the day was dissipating, Dave felt so cold but there was no relief, He could feel his heart beat slowing and his breath was getting more shallow, His mouth opened slightly, “I love you.” He whispered, It was barely audible. Darkness consumed his head..
Saint Tropez, France. A champagne flute falls to the ground and fragments into pieces, Natalie Goldman lay still on a deck chair, Her right hand closed over her chest, there was a stand beside her, on it lay a magazine, It was open on the centre page which read as follows, “David West, R.I.P. 1983-2009. Last week world renowned actor David West passed away tragically in his luxury Hollywood apartment due to acute alcohol poisoning, police are treating the case as non suspicious, meanwhile hundred’s of fans have paid tribute by laying bouquets of flowers outside his apartment. On going tribute’s are being paid by his fellow colleagues and employers. This is a tragic case of a talented young man who didn’t deserve such a short life. Natalie Goldman has not been available to comment on the passing of her ex boyfriend, it is thought she is finalising wedding plans in France. Our deepest sympathies go out to all of David’s family.”. Beside the article stood an empty Ritalin container, underneath it was a scrap of paper, there was a messily written paragraph on it which said, “To Michael, I am so sorry. This was all a mistake that got out of hand and I wrongly involved you, what I have done is inexplicable and I cant live with it. Once again I am sorry, I hope you find happiness.”. In her right hand was another scrap of paper scrunched up in her palm which read, “ I didn’t mean it. I love you. I’ll be with you soon.”.
Tahiti, The South Pacific. Troy walked along the sun kissed beach feeling the warm sand between his toes with every step, He was in paradise and was relishing every minute of it. The reason Troy had been distant with Dave during the scandal was because he himself had also been in turmoil, He couldn’t bare to watch the media savaging his friend and found it very unnerving, after Dave and Natalie passed he decided it was time for an early retirement and relocation, the show business wasn’t all it cracked up to be after all. Troy found a nice spot on the fringe of the tropical forest and sat on the sand. He looked out at the blue sky and ocean, his phone began to ring which disrupted the tranquility, he pulled it from his pocket and answered; “Hello Troy this is Sarah here with star weekly magazine we..”, Troy hung up before she had time to finish, he looked out at the ocean once more and smiled, “this is for you Dave” the former agent said to himself before launching his phone into the ocean with all his might, he was at peace finally.
***
The stifling heat awoke Dave slowly. Clumsily he pushed the bed covers off him in an attempt to cool down slightly, turned over on his side and stretched his arm out to his bedside locker. His hand fumbled to find his cigarettes. After a few seconds of pawing around he found them, slowly drew one from its box and lit it. Dave inhaled fast and let the smoke fill his lungs, slowly exhaled and watched it flitter into nothingness. It had been three weeks since he had slept for any longer than three hours. “I need to stop this; can't function anymore; mind becoming erratic.” he told himself with conviction. With that he sat up at the end of his bed, scratched his head and looked around. His large bedroom was in a bad state of neglect. Dirty clothes were strewn about the floor and dishes were turning green with mould. The stench was putrid. “Ah, there it is, damned thing”, he muttered as he snatched his maroon dressing gown from the floor and slipped into it.
As he quickly stubbed out his cigarette Dave stood up, blood rushed to his head and his pupils dilated. His vision was blurry now. He thrust his left arm against the wall to support himself, “Oh God, I feel like shit” he thought in self-pity. His stomach tightened and groaned and with that Dave ran to the en-suite and as he did so he slipped on the glossed black tiles and violently hit his head off the hard surface. Waves of pain pulsed through Dave’s body, “Not again, I cant take this,” he muttered to himself but as he finished his inner monologue he felt a warm burning sensation rising up his oesophagus, His mouth automatically opened to let the vomit pour out as Dave’s nostrils filled with the sickly smell. He felt the warm thick liquid stream down his chin and cheeks. For a moment he just lay there still and mused to himself, “How can I even vomit anymore? I haven’t eaten in three days.” The room filled with a cackling laugh; the laugh of a man who had stooped so low that he could even make hurting himself amusing in his head.
After about fifteen minutes of lying there and laughing at his own sorrows Dave slowly stood up, turned on the faucet and splashed water over his face to wash off the vomit and the water felt good on his skin; it was a small amount of relief in comparison to the mishap he'd endured. He looked up from the sink and into the murky mirror overhead, “God, man, you look horrendous” he said to himself with disdain whilst feeling his face. Dave was a good looking man of twenty-six but the past few weeks had taken their toll on him. His usually immaculate short cut brown hair now hung over his brow and was matted to his scalp. The area surrounding his eyes was composed of various shades of purple, black and yellow and the eyes themselves were almost entirely bloodshot. Wrinkle lines had carved their way deep into his brow and he had now grown an unbecoming beard. This was completely out of character for Dave as he'd always been obsessive about his appearance.
Dave took one more quick glance at himself before he fastened his robe and shambled into the living room. As he opened the door light flooded through his eyes, squinting as they struggled to take in the strong midday sun, “Christ, I need to clean this shit up,” he thought to himself. Magazines were strewn across the floor, his couch was broken in two and empty vodka bottles had taken over the kitchen to where Dave proceeded and boiled some water to make himself a green tea. He struggled with the kettle as he tried to pour water into a cup, “SHIT!!!,” he screamed in agony missing the cup and scalding his feet he cursed again, “Goddamn it; need to focus; need to regain composure.” Dave took in a deep breath and stirred his tea, limped back across the living room and stared out of the huge window. “Hollywood hills: The symbol of celebrity, status and culture.” Pausing for a minute he made a puzzled expression and thought “But what does it all stand for? What does it mean? It’s entirely shallow. Everyone who lives here is a blood-sucking whore who'll cut you down in the name of their public image.” He clenched his fists and his cheeks turned claret. Picking up a glossy magazine from the floor he gazed trance-like at it for some time. “How could they do this to me? The tabloids and their fucking see-saw morals, it's all a show. Ha! 'Natalie Goldman set to marry new hunk.' ” His hands began to shake and scrunching up the magazine in his fist he threw it at the stack of empty vodka bottles and sent one of them crashing to the ground, exploding into hundreds of tiny shards. His mind filled with hate.
“How could that goddamn bitch do this to me? It’s only been two months and she’s engaged, is she for real?” Tears streamed down Dave’s cheeks and his head became heavy with emotion, “Does she have no feelings for me at all anymore? All I ever did was give that girl everything I could and then she cheats on me with some stranger in a nightclub. Not only that but she didn’t have the tact to do it away from cameras? I don’t know who’s worse, her or me. I spent 3 years of my life with her after all but I never thought she was capable of something of that degree. Got to stop thinking like this; I’m going around in circles.” Dave turned away from the window and went over to his answering machine and pressed play. “Hey Dave, it’s Troy. How are you doing, man? Sorry I couldn’t ring sooner, just been really busy. Anyway, get to the point, I’ll drop by at three, see you soon. Oh yeah, I‘ve got what you asked for.” Dave glanced at his watch. It was two-thirty so he'd have just enough time to shower before Troy, his agent, called over.
The broken actor opened the fridge, “Ah, the Devil's brew!!” he said to himself with a grin on his face whilst reaching in and grabbing a fresh bottle of vodka from the seven that were in there. He opened a cupboard above and grabbed a pint glass, placed it on the table and with shaky hands filled it half way. Dave picked up the glass and idly watched the vodka swirl around before downing it all in one go. He felt his stomach warm and his throat burn, It was a feeling he had grown well accustomed to over the past few weeks. In the en suite the smell of vomit almost turned Dave's stomach but he didn’t care as it was the least of his worries. He dropped his robe and stepped into his shower, the warm water was comforting. He closed his eyes and let the alcohol take over.
Dave was woken by the doorbell ringing, he'd fallen asleep standing in the shower having succumbed to the vodka; “One second” he shouted out while stepping out of the shower and putting his robe back on. Staggering down the hall he opened the door sharply. Troy was standing there with a full bin liner. He was a well preserved forty-five year old and had mousey coloured hair which was cut tight to his head, aviator sun glasses sat on his long nose, which he peered over with a sombre look on his face, “Hey Man, how are you holding up?” There was a grave sense of sympathy in Troy’s voice. “I’m good Troy , real good. Come in.” Troy knew in his heart that Dave was not OK, but decided to indulge him for fear of enraging his long-term client. The pair walked down the hallway, Dave turning to Troy with a smile: “Do you like the new look? I’m trying out something new, a kind of New Age hippy thing.” Troy looked up at Dave with a false grin, “Yeah, You look great kid.”, “Thanks”, replied Dave with a big smile but Troy could see that Dave’s teeth had yellowed severely since they'd last met and that his breath smelled rancid. He loathed seeing Dave like this. The pair went into the living room and Dave turned to Troy with an earnest in his eyes, “Empty the bag” he said with a bitter tone in his voice. “Are you sure Dave?” countered Troy with an air of reluctance. Dave moved forward, intimidating, “Just empty the bag” almost losing his temper, feeling his heart beat rising and his stomach flutter with anticipation.
Leaning forward Troy picked up the bag, tipping its contents on to the white marble floor. “Here they are, just like you asked. This is pretty much every article either you or Natalie have appeared in since things went bad.” But Dave wasn’t listening, he was on his hands and knees frantically pawing through the magazines. He looked up at Troy with wild eyes, flailing a magazine in his hand, “Have you seen this? I mean, come on!” The article's title read “Naughty Nat up to no good!” and underneath was a picture of her straddling a unknown man in a glitzy nightclub. Troy’s heart broke for Dave, he looked at him and saw the hollow shell of the man he once was. His hair was filthy, eyes sore and vacant, finger nails crusted with dirt, cheeks sunken and taught and a straggly beard. It was a far cry from the man who'd been awarded two Oscars and had been to Africa on numerous aid missions. “Yeah I saw it, Dave. She isn’t worth thinking about anymore. I mean what she did to you was disgusting.” But Dave wouldn’t answer, rather fixating on the brightly coloured trash on the floor.
Troy moved away from Dave, sat in an armchair, gazed out of the window and reflected. Four months ago his client was the hottest property in Hollywood and now the media had raped him, sucked him of his integrity, and spat him out. It wasn’t long before both Natalie and Dave had become targets, Natalie for obvious reasons and Dave because he'd 'Let himself go.' Troy’s mind grew heavy. How could they do that to people? Didn't they realise that actors are just human too? Just people like anyone else except their lives are in the spotlight and that in itself makes the ridiculous amounts of money they get paid justifiable. Suddenly Dave hopped in front of Troy, flicking through the pages of a magazine, “Sorry Troy I’m being rude, how are you? Have I had any job offers?” That put Troy on the spot; there hadn’t been any studio calls regarding Dave at all but he knew he couldn’t offend him either so tried to skirt the issue , “Ah I’m ok, same old story as always” Dave who was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of Troy peered up at him with an eager look, “So what about jobs?” Troy shifted uneasily in his seat and placed his hand on the side of his head, “Well there haven’t exactly been many man”, Dave looked up from his magazine confused, “What do you mean?” since Dave‘s first big movie he'd gotten used to rejecting hundreds of offers. Troy sighed “I mean there's been no acting offers, only tabloids wanting your side of the break-up.” The afternoon's visitor hoping not to offend his trusted charge accepted there was no way to avoid it. Dave was a passionate actor and the thought of talking to the tabloids about his private life apppalled him,so Troy cringed in anticipating Dave’s reply.
Looking up from the magazine Dave stared blankly at Troy and an uncomfortable silence followed. The actor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, “I cant do that” he said calmly while looking back down at the magazine. Troy was surprised by Dave’s nonchalant answer which encouraged him to further understand his reasoning, “Why not?,” he asked in plain honesty. Dave put the magazine to one side and uncrossed his legs, “Why not? Why not?” Dave let out a quiet chuckle, “I’ll tell you why not. Because all my life I’ve taken the path of honesty, integrity, and dignity and even though I’ve adhered to that philosophy I’ve ended up on the bottom you know?” Dave leaned forward in his chair, “And I’ll tell you why.” He grabbed the magazine he had been holding and began to shake it and point at it, his voice rising, “These people have killed me inside, and for what? To sell more copy. It’s despicable.” Dave started to flick through the pages frantically, “Ah here it is, 'Dave West’s Meltdown!'” The article contained various pictures of the fallen star of which some were taken during his brief public appearances, while others were clearly taken from the hills surrounding his apartment, highlighting the various states he had been in. Pictures of him pushing paparazzi away or standing at his window semi-clothed with a bottle of vodka in hand. He read out snippets of the article, “ 'Dave west has wasted away'. 'Delusional'. 'A broken man.' ” Troy cut him short as Dave was about to say more, “Don’t listen to that garbage, it’s all sensationalised nonsense. It‘ll do you no good believing it.” Dave was biting his fingernails hard, still reading the article unphased. ”Ok, ok! You wont believe this” and drawing a deep breath proceeded to read the article aloud: “ 'Meanwhile his glamorous ex, Nat, lives it up in Spain with her new hunk. Turn to page 49 for her exclusive interview'. ” Dave put the magazine down and walked over to the fridge, “Why do people believe these lies? And why is she making money by selling me out?”, he asked while pulling out the already half empty vodka bottle. Before troy had time to answer the questions Dave took a large gulp directly from the bottle and continued talking, “Does that girl have no dignity? Or is she just playing their game? Do they forget what she did to me? Or are they glad she did it to me? I just don’t know anymore and I cant believe she is feeding their ever hungry venomous mouths like this. That isn’t the girl I loved, but it seems she is full of surprises these days.” Dave was eyeballing his favourite stimulant. He let out a sorrowful sigh and downed some more.
Troy got up from his seat, walked over to Dave and hastily tried to grab the bottle but he pulled away from him, “Come on, man, just give me the bottle” he said with his arm stretched out as if trying to beckon it to him. Dave cowered backward, cradling the bottle. “ I'm fine,I’m fine. I don’t see what the problem is.” He snapped and Troy grew impatient with his friend, “You don’t see the problem? Really? You believe that, do you?” He felt himself growing angry, Dave stepped back again, surprised at Troy’s remarks. He put the bottle on the counter saying “No I don’t see the problem. Not at all, in fact.” Troy’s hand slid down his face with frustration, “What 's happened to you Dave? Come on, lets be honest here, you’re a complete wreck. What's gotten into you? Four months ago you were the great David West, two-time academy award winner, What she did to you was inexcusable, I know, but you've got to forget her, I mean she isn’t wasting any time getting on so she doesn’t even deserve the thoughts in your head.” Dave began to laugh hysterically which completely puzzled and angered Troy, “What? What’s so funny?” Troy snapped at Dave and whilst buckling over with laughter the actor looked up and replied, “It’s a new look, I’ve told you that already and as for that daughter of a whore, well I’ve told you already I loathe the ground she walks on.” Dave regained composure, stood upright and said with a smile, “I’m fine Troy, really.” Troy had reached boiling point and knew that his long-term client and friend was blatantly telling lies to his face. He lost all composure and grabbed Dave by the collar of his robe, little resistance was offered and before he knew it Troy had him up against the wall, “Don't you see what you’ve done to yourself? You’re a wreck, You look like shit, And it’s all because of her, Just let go, You let that Bitch out;. of your head because you can reassure yourself that you have kept your dignity, Your pride, And Your self worth, What does she have? Nothing, Its all a lie, All fucking smile’s and rainbows for the public but I guarantee you that when show time is over so are her smiles.”, Troy looked into Dave‘s eyes, He was staring back at him timidly, Almost in tears, It was at this moment that he realised what he had just done and let go of Dave, “I’m sorry, I,I, Didn’t mean to do that, I don’t know what came over me, I’m just trying to look out for you”, Dave collapsed to the floor and curled himself in a ball, The adrenalin flowing through his body made him feel weak and sick. He looked up at Troy with blood red eyes, “Get out now,”he said slowly through clenched teeth and Troy took a step back holding his hands up as if to signify innocence, “Look I’m sorry Dave, It just angers me to see you like this because I know there’s nothing I can say or do to help.” Dave’s head lay on the cold marble, he was staring seemingly at nothing, “Get out and leave me be”, he said, this time with no conviction but more of a hollow tone; Troy’s head hung low, “Ok, I’ll leave then, but you call me if you want to talk.” Dave lay still and expressionless, he did not answer Troy, nor looked at him, just listened to the sound of footsteps and then heard the door slam shut. He was alone once more.
An hour had passed and Dave was still lying on the ground, his finger tracing idly along the lines of the tiles whilst thinking about Natalie. He thought about the good times they'd spent together in this very apartment; the days when they would curl up together on the couch and talk about each other’s hectic lifetyles; the nights when they lay in bed together where not even the paparazzi could get their claws into them. A sentimental smile crept across his face but as always the tragedy seeped into his mind. The betrayal, the disregard for his emotions, the soiling of his once sacred memories which she regurgitated to the tabloids for money. He grew angry, slamming his fist repeatedly on the marble whilst writhing on the floor as if his mental anguish had manifested in him physically, but he decided enough was enough and slowly rose to his feet. The old familiar blood rush kicked in once he stood up, but he didn’t mind, “Time for me to get back on track”, he said with conviction whilst making his way to the bathroom. This time he stepped into the main bathroom, unable to face the smell of vomit in his en suite. It was a grand room filled with all the sterility of modern design. The fading daylight gave the room a comforting orange hue and Dave dragged his feet along the cool floor then stood in front of the large mirror. He decided it was time to shave and at least look semi-respectable if he was to find his acting feet again. He filled up the sink at the foot of the large mirror and applied some shaving foam to his face, finding it difficult to shave through his scraggly beard. “Fuck!”, he muttered to himself whilst wincing from the pain of cutting his face. Twenty minutes after finishing and his face looked like it had been attacked by a small animal, he then decided that shaving whilst drunk was not the greatest idea in the world, however he was pleased at how he looked. He was beginning to see remnants of his old self.
Dave stepped into the living room with a smile on his face, feeling small signs of progress for the first time in months. He sat on an armchair, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Tomorrow will be the day: The day I throw my problems away, start fresh, change my direction and start that goddamn screenplay I’ve been harping on about for the past few years. Get away from the camera. Get away from the limelight and be myself again, he thought to himself optimistically as his smile grew wider. Dave pulled a loose cigarette from his gown pocket, It was bent and crumpled but it would have to suffice as he didn’t want to look for the box. He grabbed a lighter from the floor and lit up his cigarette. He stretched out in his arm chair, gazed out of the window and thought about nothing in particular, which made him happy. He hadn’t had a clear mind space in a long time. Dave let the peace blanket him and lost consciousness.
After what seemed like days Dave woke up with a groan, He checked his watch it was 10:00 pm. His eyes focused on the half bottle of vodka sitting invitingly on the kitchen counter top, He had a playful grin on his tired face, “One last night of debauchery wont hurt, I must have a fitting goodbye to my old comrade, The great vodka!.”, He rose from his seat sporting a look of lust on his face and half danced over to the bottle picking it up quickly and downing it all, He let out a gruff grunt and wiped the excess away which had dribbled down his chin, His stomach was on fire but he paid little attention because tonight was his last night of fun. “Music, That’s it, I need music!.”, His reaction to his thoughts suggested he had a great epiphany, In reality it was in fact more mundane. He walked to his sound system and fumbled with the buttons for a while, He stood back from the machine, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” echoed through the apartment, His father had instilled a good knowledge of classical music in him, And Moonlight sonata always invoked a deep sense of nostalgia in him. Dave turned away from the stereo whilst humming his favourite composition, The alcohol had taken over and he was staggering and hiccupping, He ambled to the fridge and took out another bottle of vodka, He most certainly didn’t need it but that didn’t cross his mind, There was a magazine on the floor which caught his eye, The headline read, “Natalie’s wedding plans.”, It didn’t hurt anymore, The articles, The loss, The loneliness, He had reached his emotional thresh hold and was at a comfortable level of numbness so he awkwardly picked it up off the floor and sat back in his arm chair, Slugging from the bottle and flicking through the pages. Dave read through the article, It detailed her lavish wedding to her new man, involving all sorts of grandiose amusements and over the top furnishings, Natalie’s husband to be was a sickly rich Wall street business man by the name of Michael Anshel, so there was no doubt in Dave’s mind that she would be spoiled rotten by him, He never knew her to be like this but then again he doubted if he ever really knew her to begin with or if it was all just for the media, He exhaled deeply and took another swig of vodka.
Dave sat in his chair looking at pictures of his ex frolicking on a boat in some tropical waters with Michael, she looked so happy, and so did he. Dave flung the magazine to the ground, He could feel emotion and sentiment creep back into his head so he made the conscious effort to snub them out, alcohol had always been good for that, He looked at the bottle and mumbled “Good for you Natalie, good for you.” sarcastically whilst taking another large slug, He was now severely inebriated and his train of thought had been derailed. Dave felt a warm sensation trickle down his leg, He had soiled himself but he didn’t care, He feebly raised the bottle to his mouth and drank the bottle until there was no more, He missed his mouth several times and was now covered in vodka, He looked around the room as if he was looking for someone, His eyes opened and closed slowly, “More.”, He said aloud, no reply, only silence, He let out a loud scream as if was a distressed gorilla and slid off his seat. The ground was cool and refreshing, Dave crawled on hands and knees to the fridge, It was a painfully slow affair but he didn’t care much for time in his current state. The cool white light of the refrigerator made his pupils shrink, He winced for a moment and pawed around until he produced yet another bottle. Dave reached up and placed the vodka on the counter and clumsily rose to his feet using it as support, He could barely see anymore as his vision was severely blurred, “Bed.” He said to himself like a Neanderthal, It seemed so far away yet it was only a few metres, He zig zagged out of the living room and into the hall which was pitch black, He considered finding the light switch but it seemed like too much effort at the time, he took three steps into the dark, while lamely trying to feel his way around he fell hard, forcefully hitting his head off the ground but the pain didn’t register, there was only a dull ringing in his ears. Dave had managed to make it to his bed, He lay still looking into the darkness and drank his vodka slowly, He closed his eyes and confronted his conscience, His arm’s dropped limp by his side spilling vodka on himself and soaking the mattress but he didn’t care, He was past that and all the pain of the day was dissipating, Dave felt so cold but there was no relief, He could feel his heart beat slowing and his breath was getting more shallow, His mouth opened slightly, “I love you.” He whispered, It was barely audible. Darkness consumed his head..
Saint Tropez, France. A champagne flute falls to the ground and fragments into pieces, Natalie Goldman lay still on a deck chair, Her right hand closed over her chest, there was a stand beside her, on it lay a magazine, It was open on the centre page which read as follows, “David West, R.I.P. 1983-2009. Last week world renowned actor David West passed away tragically in his luxury Hollywood apartment due to acute alcohol poisoning, police are treating the case as non suspicious, meanwhile hundred’s of fans have paid tribute by laying bouquets of flowers outside his apartment. On going tribute’s are being paid by his fellow colleagues and employers. This is a tragic case of a talented young man who didn’t deserve such a short life. Natalie Goldman has not been available to comment on the passing of her ex boyfriend, it is thought she is finalising wedding plans in France. Our deepest sympathies go out to all of David’s family.”. Beside the article stood an empty Ritalin container, underneath it was a scrap of paper, there was a messily written paragraph on it which said, “To Michael, I am so sorry. This was all a mistake that got out of hand and I wrongly involved you, what I have done is inexplicable and I cant live with it. Once again I am sorry, I hope you find happiness.”. In her right hand was another scrap of paper scrunched up in her palm which read, “ I didn’t mean it. I love you. I’ll be with you soon.”.
Tahiti, The South Pacific. Troy walked along the sun kissed beach feeling the warm sand between his toes with every step, He was in paradise and was relishing every minute of it. The reason Troy had been distant with Dave during the scandal was because he himself had also been in turmoil, He couldn’t bare to watch the media savaging his friend and found it very unnerving, after Dave and Natalie passed he decided it was time for an early retirement and relocation, the show business wasn’t all it cracked up to be after all. Troy found a nice spot on the fringe of the tropical forest and sat on the sand. He looked out at the blue sky and ocean, his phone began to ring which disrupted the tranquility, he pulled it from his pocket and answered; “Hello Troy this is Sarah here with star weekly magazine we..”, Troy hung up before she had time to finish, he looked out at the ocean once more and smiled, “this is for you Dave” the former agent said to himself before launching his phone into the ocean with all his might, he was at peace finally.
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