Suburban Loser - Chapter 1 - Screaming at the Wind

The ding-ding-ding of the car door provided the backbeat as I reached to turn up the volume on the stereo. The band whined and wailed my pain, I squeeze the bridge of my nose, fighting off my headache. I stepped out of the car, fished around in my jacket pockets as I looked around the empty gas station.

Just the guy nodding off behind the counter. The wind whipped down the empty parkway and pressed itself against me. I pulled out my pack of smokes, flipped it open, and stared long and hard at the last one left sitting alone in the crumpled box. I pulled it out, popped it in my mouth, cupped my hands and lit 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 was still warm, helping me fight off the chill. I released the smoke from my lungs and closed my eyes. Nicotine rush made my legs wobbly.

The music roared, 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, wrapped around me. It made me 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, to have fun, to get laid and party.

But that's beyond me. My time had passed. I was stuck just beyond 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 finished my cigarette, flicked it towards the gas pumps, and stepped up onto my bumper. I walked up onto the hood, denting in the metal, not giving a shit, turned towards the red flashing stoplight and gazed 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.

I reached deep down inside, took a huge, gasping breath, arched my back and threw my body forward as I screamed for all I was worth. I screamed at my family, I screamed at my friends, I screamed at my girlfriend, I screamed at nothing at all.

The music died down as I sat on the hood, my arms wrapped around my knees, and I cried at what a pathetic loser I was. Trapped in suburbia.