The Story Known as Damnit

 “The Story Known as Damnit”: Submitted by Mrak Ramosian Schmrak Daddypops

(written about 9 years ago)

Spencer Renotos ran down the sparkling pathement. That’s the way everyone liked their pathement. They really did. They thought they did. He smiled at his sick slanting reflection in the clear thick plastic wall on the phone booth. He liked his shaved eyebrows. That’s the way everyone liked their eyebrows. They really idd. They thought they did. He had to make a call. This call was to someone special. Someone not special to him but they all made him think that the person was. So he believed and just followed what they said. He dialed the number…slowly and kept repeating hello to himself to make sure his voice was ready.

“Hello?” answered an unknown voice on the other side of the line.

He quickly rambled off the words, “Is Janna there?”

She picked up the phone that had been carefully balanced on a wooden side of a changing table used as a pen and paper holder. She didn’t even notice how nicely it was placed. She cleared her voice and began to speak. Nothing important was said and nothing true. Just lots of surface talking. How are you? What’s up? A certain I love you was thrown across the line by a certain boy named Spencer. This was not true. He thought it was true but it couldn’t have been.

They decided to meet by the large fake plastic tree near the fake plastic pond. They had a fun day in their opinion. They kissed. While they were sitting trying hard to converse, a paper rolled over to them. Litter, something long gotten used to. For some unseen reason Spencer decided to read what was written on the paper. It said “Petition to save the parking lot”. He read on it that they were tearing down an abandoned parking lot to put in a real forest. He showed it to Janna and they both began to cry.

“I hate trees, there is nothing useful about them,” sobbed Janna.

“I know, and just after we had finally gotten rid of the last ones.”

They walked along the sparkling pathement, they didn’t think to think. Someone worked on this path they were walking on. It probably took days. Instead they were paying too much attention to judging people spiritually.

“Hey, look at that creepy tall figure over there.”

“Ya,” said Spencer, “he’s a real dork. Look at what he is wearing.”

Meanwhile the nice tall boy was thinking. Look at those posers wearing all their trendy clothing falling into the sick twisted trap of “in my mind I’m everyone but me”. They constantly think it but never hear it go through their mind.

The two kids quickly forgot about the forest mostly because it didn’t really matter to them. Sure they didn’t want any real fresh air. But they just didn’t care enough to remember. If it’s really important you almost never forget. And if you forget, when you remember you try twice as hard to do that thing.

The two decided that maybe they should go get their friends from their air-conditioned houses where they are sitting, watching tv, and consuming sugar products. The walk soo slowly, they just seem like they never want to arrive. This gives the boy plenty of time to follow them. He likes to do this it’s fun to him. He follows them to a house where they go inside.

He lies down in the yard and covers himself with grass one blade at a time. Just a test of his will. He likes to test his will a lot. Then he takes off his shirt and pulls an orange out of his left pocket. He did this with his right hand for something to do. He rolled the orange on his face somewhat thanking it for trying too hard to grow. Suddenly he gets a thought of disgust. Why do people change perfect things to make new shit? He peels his orange off in small erratic chunks. This isn’t like him, but he’s not all well today.

The two come out with their supposed friends. They stand and laugh, on the inside at first, then it just came out. The boy didn’t care, to him he was better than them all so it didn’t matter. No, he was no better in the way he was made, he was just a better person. He got up and walked away.

Spencer left for home. He ate his same dinner. Stew with extra beef and 20 oz of Coke. This is what he liked, it was what all his friends liked. He went to bed. He had a dream that he fell asleep and started dreaming. In hi dream inside a dream he felt himself rip his eyeball out screaming “I DID IT TO BE COOL”. In his bed a smug smile went across his face and slowly faded out. As it faded he woke up from his dream inside a dream and was in his first dream alone. He saw the boy jump high from a real tree. He gracefully fell deep into the ground. Spencer ran away. And ran and ran, but he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t talk.

He woke up at his regular time. A fly bit his arm after he woke up, that made him get out of bed. He took a long shower, not because he wanted to, but because the temperature of the water was the same every day which made him fall into a pattern. Patterns make people not think. Not thinking makes them lazy. He finally got out and got dressed. He liked his clothes his mom bought for him. He never had to work for anything in his whole life. He still wanted more.

Spencer suddenly remembered his dream he had. He went downstairs mindlessly thinking about his dream. He poured into his bowl Lucky Charms. On these he poured whole milk. He ate slowly, slowly, milk dripping from every spoonful before it reached his mouth. He eventually finished eating. He walked outside; it was a sunny 81 degrees. A little too hot for his comfort, but he needed to find the boy. He walked to the site of the parking lot. They had already torn up all the old cement and had planted a few trees. There was the boy sitting smiling, a real smile by the smallest tree. Spencer walked over.

“You know, this will grow just as big as the rest if it tries. Just as you will grow if you try,” said the boy.

“What?” snapped Spencer.

“I hate short people,” said the boy to Spencer who was taller than him.

“What? I don’t get you, but I need to talk to you about a dream I had. I couldn’t breath, think or talk.”

“Very interesting dream you had there. What would you like me to do about it?” asked the boy.

“Well, I was wondering if you maybe knew what it meant.”

“Well, you can’t breathe, think, or talk for yourself because everything you do is what other people do. Try to be different. Do something new. Work hard, try harder, have an opinion.”

“I have an opinion, you’re a fucking weirdo, I’m outta here.”

Spencer ran and ran down the sparkling pathement. After all it was the way everyone liked it. Then, he just stopped. He realized that what the boy had said was true. He climbed the fake plastic tree and dove, headfirst into the sparkling pathement. Another death of someone who was never to be themselves. Nobody will really miss him because he was just the same as everyone else.

One Response to The Story Known as Damnit

  1. jimmie says:

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