Suburban Loser - Chapter 1 - Screaming At the Wind

The ding-ding-ding of the open car door provides the backbeat as I reach to turn up the volume on the stereo. The band whines and wails my pain, and I squeeze the bridge of my nose to fight off my headache. I step out of the car and fish around in my jacket pockets as I look around the desolate gas station.

Just me and the guy nodding off behind the counter. The wind whips down the empty parkway and slams itself against me. I pull out my pack of smokes, flip it open, and stare long and hard at the last one left sitting alone in the crumpled box. I pull it out, pop it in my mouth, cup my hand and light it up with my zippo.

It's moments like this that I'm glad I smoke. Sometimes you just need a vice to fall back on when everything else is gone. I took a drag and leaned back on the hood. The engine's still warm, helping me fight off the chill. I release the smoke from my lungs and close my eyes. Nicotine rush makes my legs wobbly.

The music roars, pumping from out of the blown speakers, that slight vibrating tick of the soundwaves reverberating the broken pieces. I've never been much to pay attention to lyrics, but something about sadness, doomed relationships, emotional trauma, wraps itself around me. I feel less alone.

Somewhere out in this godforsaken reality lies a promised land, an urban utopia, a metropolitan mecca to experience, where kids just like me are living it up and creating something, anything at all to express themselves, having fun, getting laid and partying til dawn.

But that's beyond me. My time's passed. I'm stuck just on the other side of that impenetrable veil, despite the Long Island Railroad and a few bucks being able to get me there, that life was not to be mine. I was not made for New York City, it would chew me up and spit me out. No way would I survive out there, alone.

I finish my cigarette, flicking it towards the gas pumps, and hop onto my bumper. I walk up onto the hood, denting the metal, not giving a shit, I turn towards the red flashing stoplight and glare angrily out upon the empty streets. I thought about how in an hour or two, the sun would rise, and cars would be rushing about as if these people's lives mattered. As if mine mattered.

I reach deep down inside, take a huge, gasping breath, arch my back, then throw my body forward and scream for all I'm worth. I scream at my family, I scream at my friends, I scream at my girlfriend, I scream at nothing at all.

The music dies down and I collapse on the hood, my arms wrapped around my knees, and I cry at what a pathetic loser I am.