Hell Frozen Rain July M.E

Donovan was home by himself this night… no woman to keep him company and no friends to do the same, but in a rather different manner. Having a quiet place to oneself really gets the mind running. He found himself sitting on his beat up couch holding the very few photos he had possessed. His parents were never big on taking pictures of their children… Why should they? They hated them… so yeah… What pictures they had were take by others. This picture was a day at the park. A nice woman took it….

-Six-Years-Old: If Life were Like T.V-

I was six… early seven and I was sitting in the grass with Lex and Livi who had just turn eight. I remember we were arguing over which characters we would be in a cartoon we would love to watch before mom and dad woke up on a Sunday morning. I was lucky because I always got the character I wanted me being the boy. So it was more Lex and Livi having a little squabble about the character they had both found interest. While they bickered on and on my eyes wondered around. If I can recall my mother was sitting under the tree with a lit cigarette. She had brought us there or a front and to hide the suspicion of any abuse that had occurred at home. I think she was telling the unfortunate tail of how Olivia broke her leg that previous weekend. According to her she was being careless and fell out of a tree she had been climbing. I knew better not to object stating it was none other than our fathers fault (I didn’t want any broken limbs for myself).

I turned back to see that Olivia had one the battle over the character with both a guilt trip over her broken leg and a noble game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. We then ventured to the play ground of course Lexi and I were not being mindful for our currently crippled sister. While I played with Lexi atop the play ground where Olivia couldn’t climb.. She was down playing in the wood chips with an older boy who was about ten. He was much taller than me and the twins… And well… just like any other kid Olivia started getting frustrated with the boy because he kept making fun of her pig tails and leg cast.

“My sister says they are pretty! You are just a big poopy head!” She would stick her tongue out and the boy would push her… I remember getting so mad and jumping off the jungle-gym to approach him while Alexis tended to their crying sister.

“Oh look! Limpy has a dweeb-clone! Ha-ha! And she has four eyes!” My fists were in tight little balls… I remember hearing Alexis off to the side…

“Donnie… We can just go play over there… Leave us alone!” I didn’t listen… I should of, but something in my wanted to defend my two older sisters. I just threw a punch right into the kid’s eye. He cried to his mother who just so happened to be the one talking to ours… Now our mom was furious… and the next thing I know she was storming over to me… What did I do?

“Lexi told me to do it!” it was something all three of us did… Just so we can avoid the beating… so at an extent we forgave each other for fending for ourselves….but hated each other for it. Later that night I remember going into Alexis and Olivia’s bedroom… I approached the bed to see a beaten Alexis still whimpering… She had been dealt with when Olivia and I had been sent to bed. I felt bad and I wanted to calm her down so her crying would anger dad… and before I went back into my room…

“Thank you, Donnie…” she thanked me for sticking up for her and Olivia.

--------------------------

Donovan sighed as he put the picture aside and then laughed when he saw the next one. He was dressed up in a tee-shirt that was meant to look like a tuxedo and he was at a dance with a girl he had a huge crush on.

-13-years-old: Fuck Puberty -

I was lanky and had just gotten rather tall.. I was the tallest in my class and I started growing peach fuzz on my face. No body had hit puberty except me and maybe two other boys and a small handful of girls. Some girls liked that I was able to grow facial hair, some weren’t used to the fact…. And some just didn’t like the acne that was growing on my face at the time. Well, it was our dance and no girls or boys had asked anyone for a date… we all kind of just went with a handful of friends… Though they all were stumped when a slow song came on. It was like all the boys gravitated to one side and the girls the other… Some boys had the courage to ask a girl to dance with them. I was one of them. I asked Jessica. I always had a crush on her and I was slouched and awkward still… She said yes. I put my hands on her hips and she put her hands atop my shoulders… there was at least five inches between the two of us give or take. A teacher came by with a Polaroid camera snapping pictures and she took two, giving one to both of us. As I went to go put mine in my pocket my hand grazed Jessica’s newly umm… sprouting…um… booby. When I did this I fumbled over my apology and held my hand up to hold her breast as if to steady her if she were about to fall.. I knew you weren’t supposed to do it, but it was a reflex as if I were to grab onto her arm… Then I freaked right out to the point I froze, my hand still on her chest. She fumed at me and slapped me across the face… I stood there and everyone was laughing at me for doing what I did. I remember running to the bathroom tripping over myself… when I got into the bathroom and looked down… I realized that wasn’t the only thing they were laughing at…
-----------------------------

He set the photo aside with a small chuckle. It embarrassed him even now to think about it. He had gotten a lot more smooth since then which was good. Last he picked up his Point Hope Student I.D.

-fifteen-years-old: The mistake-

I think I came home from exercising at the school gym. Yeah…I was in a wife beater drenched in my sweat and out of breath…. After all that working out I was pumped and very energetic. When I got home… I saw blood on the floor. It was a normal occurrence, but it never failed to strike fear into my mind… I remember I was really scared, because it had been dad’s day off and Livi was home sick and Alexis was off in Alaska serving some time for the crimes she had committed… so Olivia was home alone with dad. Not only all this… it seemed different… It was quiet. I rampaged through the house trying to look for her when I found my dad in the bathroom wrapping up his bloody knuckles.

“Where is Olivia…” I remember thinking right then and there he killed her.. Though he finally killed her… until he answered half heartedly

“Out back… She was bleeding all over the carpet… Reckon she will have to clean that up before your mother gets home. She will be pissed.. Maybe you should do it, boy?” if he was getting asked to do it,.it only meant that it might not be likely Olivia would be able to do it soon enough… so I ran out back to check on her… She had been passed out… her skin cold.. I was afraid for her life… I hurried her to the hospital…I was full of rage.. I returned home and stood in front of my dad whom was sitting watching the news…. That’s when I picked him up by his shirt and threw him into the wall. He was a lot bigger than me…. And he got a lot of works beating on me and Olivia…so I was quite crazy for doing this… but I fought him… I suppose mom got home and saw the brawl through the window and called the cops.

I was blamed for beating my sister and my father… My mother as the witness… I was shipped off to Alaska without being able to say bye to my sister… I wish I had gotten help rather than turn to violence…
--------------------

Donovan rubbed at his temples….. He set down all three pictures and pushed them off to the side where he wouldn’t be able to see them. He could have avoided all those situations… but he didn’t…He wish he did… Could have had Lexi if they hadn’t pushed her away for making the blame land on her… Donovan wouldn’t be so disrespectful towards women if he wasn’t so humiliated… Olivia would have been alive if she had her brother to protect her…. But now.. The past was the past… and nothing could be changed… he was who he was because of it and hopefully he learned something…

Word count: 1582 without colour code.

This is a subchapter to Chapter 1: Enter San Diego happening immediately afterward



Chapter 1a: Broken Memories

I feel my vision burn, I feel my memories fade away, but I'm too young to worry.

I was leaning against the wall of the school, surveying, observing, considering. I looked at my wrist... still no watch, so back into my pocket I found my phone. it was now 9:36. or at least Verizon said so. I took out a cigarrette and lit it. yeah it was my second one in 2 minutes, but thats actually really good for me... I can usually go through 3 packs in a day. I still had my phone out so I began to flip through the texts I had recieved. the first was from sean.



Excellent, looks like I found my day plan in the hands of the young and the restless. the next was from that hayli girl



I flipped open the phone, the little keypad laid out before me. I could only wonder how kids with big fat fingers worked these things, but luckily I was not one of them and my skinny thumbs jumped around the keyboard as easily as a frog.

I texted back quickly, a little smirk on my face. hayli had been one of the many girls that rejected me, however that wasn't going to deter me from continuing to try. there was a third text, but I recognized the number and decided to just delete it. one day my dad would understand why I didn't want to come home... either that or I'd realize what an incredible mistake it is to not spend my formative years with him. either way, no regrets. of course, thats not to say I'd never had a good time with my father, or that he isn't a good person. he is incredibly kind, and knowledgable, but he just wasn't what I needed...

***

October 13th, 2000

"Happy sixth birthday!" my parents shouted in unison. my ears rang for a moment before I got the chance to actually open my eyes. crystal clear vision was before me, before I started fucking myself up with drugs I had excellent eye sight. so I grumbled and rolled over. aren't you supposed to let someone sleep in for their birthday? either way they where here and wheren't going away. I leaned up, they where so close. my mom had that same docile look on her face, ever since she had been on medication for her bipolar disorders she always seemed a little mechanical. of course I much rathered her like that then when she came barging in one day with a knife threatening my fathers life. of course like a good holy man, as he was a pastor, he forgave his wife for having a fit of being controlled by the devil. I suddenly wondered if everyone in washington was that dumb. one would suppose that a six year old would be excited to recieve presents on their birthday, but I was far more worried about going to school again... those bullies that picked on me where simply not worth growing another year older. even if they did pick on me for all the right reasons. also idiots, if they only realized that with me on their side they could be making real money and not just stealing kids lunch money, I could make a whole system of ripping people off. I drew myself out of my greedy thoughts for a moment and followed my parents out into the living room. there where two presents, one was large, and wrapped in a box, the other was tiny, like a letter, or a card. my father handed me the card first. I got the poiunt, I'm supposed to read the card to show my appreciation for the gift, but really, what if I don't appreaciate the gift? the only way to know is if I open the gift first... right? anyhow, I opened it to see it was not a card, but actually a brochure of jiu jitsu lessons. "I signed you up for jiu jitsu cause you wanted to take self defense classes" my father said with a soft worried smile, like his heart was teetering on the edge, waiting for my happiness to push it back to safety. luckily he had managed to make me truly happy with his gift, though I had been hoping for muay thai, this would certainly do. I then looked at the big gift and then back to my father. he nodded his approval and I went to it. it was a little shorter than I was, but it was intruiging. I tore off the wrapping paper, enjoying its frailness beneath my hands to uncover a box. upon opening the box I was the beholder of a brand new gibson les paul, which had a reciept taped to it. I pulled the reciept off and noticed that it was not a reciept for the guitar, as I had originally thought, but rather a reciept for the lessons I would be starting tomorow. "Thank you... really, I really like it" I said, with honesty in my words as I looked to my dad. we smiled at each other. one of the only times we had ever shared such a moment. it was easily the happiest day of my life

***

I walked around the school, in a daze, I pulled out my phone again, was it really already 11? how do things pass so quickly when you're high? of course it was stupid to think of trivial things like that. the more important question is have I done anything useful yet? the answer of course was no. on my sixth cigarrette I started actually observing the people who went to this school, scoping out possible customers. there was a punk kid who walked by, but he didn't seem like much of a stoner... and then a preppy guy, who was probably a stoner in his free time, but with that thought he was probably also already hooked up with his preppy buddies, or someone. still it didn't hurt to try.

"Hey pal, you got any bud by chance?" I asked smoothly as I walked up beside him. at first he was a tad startled, especially with my appearence, but he could see where I was coming from... just like I thought. "Nah bro, sorry" he said, continuing to walk, I kept pace. "Would you like some? you look pretty stressed man" I asked him, concern dripped from my voice in the most pleasently fake way imaginable. lying was a gift for me though. he looked at me, considering his options. "I'll hook you up fat cause its your first time with me" I said with a little smile, it only took a few favors for someone to come around. he smiled and looked around. "you got a 10 sac?" the boy finally asked, I smiled in turn, delightfully. "But of course" I said, pulling 2 plastic baggies of weed I gave them to him, he handed me the money, and right on school grounds... oh how I love intuition. he smiled and I handed him my card. not an actual business card, but a little note with my number and the letter M written on it. "Give me a call" I said with a little tip of my hat before backing off. if the kids around here where that easy this was going to be a cakewalk... it all brought me back to the first time I sold any weed.

***

July 7th, 2006

being the big bad almost teenager that I was, I was a considerable force in the middle school. in fact I was the only dealer of my middle school, and I got all my stuff from this thirty year old man who was apperantly homeless and just wandered around from place to place selling weed... what an excellent life that seemed like. adventure, full on, never a day unspent, almost romantic in a sense, like an old tyme adventure. except with more drugs, and violence. at this point I was fairly close to running away from home, but washington still had me. all the grunge kids who wanted pot came to me, even older ones, I felt so important, like my life had some shallow meaning behind it. it was a fragile facade, but it was mine, so I held on to it like it was my last breath. still, I started fairly small. I had already started smoking cigarrettes, it seemed cool, not to mention I would do anything my father didn't like, I loved the negative attention, it was the only thing that kept him from disowning me. so one night when I was out and about in seattle I ran into my middle aged dealer selling some to the local bunch of hooligans, they where much older than I was, but nothing could daunt me, I've always kind of liked danger. I approached them all. "Excuse me... I've got ten bucks... anyway I could join in on this?" I asked, my pre-pubescent voice pitiful, but solid. the man looked at me, examining me as if I was some kind of science expiriment gone wrong. his face got very close to mine, I instinctively flinched, and then I drew my face closer to his. some sort of intensity must have radiated from my eyes but he suddenly smiled and pulled back. "You got a lot of spirit kid... you like talking to people a lot?" the man asked. I nodded my head, he still hadn't answered my question. I had yet to learn that if you want something you just need to take it. he laughed, the boys laughed as well. "What's your name boy?" he asked, his toothy grin seemed incredibly disgusting in the dim streetlamp's glow. I coughed, the smoke on his breath was so intense I simply had a hard time handling it. "You didn't tell me if I could buy any" I said stubbornly, also to take his mind off of my name... it seemed like a really bad idea to tell him my real name. he laughed even harder, the stench worsened as I realized that was not just his mouth that stank. "I like you kid" he said, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a plastic container filled with nug. "have you ever smoked pot before?" he asked me. I was apprehensive, but in a rare twist of fate I told the truth, and was rewarded. he smiled at me, pulling off his backpack, which I realized was not a backpack at all but a giant case for a bong. "Boys... we're gonna show our young new friend a great time, huh?" he asked the high schoolers who all agreed quite readily. that night they smoked me out for free, and the old man gave me a jar of nug, telling me I should be a dealer. he said that if I could come back with the empty jar and one hundred dollars he'd refill it for me, he said he thought I had what it took. in a strange way he became my mentor, and I loved the feeling of it. I went out of my way to talk all of my friends into buying some, then I talked all of their friends into it, and so on and so forth. the very first person though, he was the hardest. I told him all about how awesome it was, but he had this problem cause his dad was a deadbeat because he did too much pot and nothing else... I convinced him though, I said "look at me... I get straight A's, I make tons of money, I do lots of extracurriculars, just cause you smoke pot doesn't make you a deadbeat" and all of these things where true, and he knew it, so he did it. I didn't feel bad at all. it was one of the best sales I've every done.

***

It was almost 2... a rather rare time of day, usually I begin to feel pretty sleepy right around now, but all of this reminiscing had my mind on hyper drive, thinking about everything I'd lived through, all the stupid stiuations I'd put myself in. at least I had done one thing right... I lived everyday to its fullest, and with no regrets. I conceivably could die happy. sometimes I wished I still believed in atheism, then I wouldn't feel so bad trying to kill myself the way I am...

***

January 23rd, 2009

"NO ONE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS, GODDAMMIT!" I shouted, the top of my lungs, my chest felt like it was going to burst, I threw whatever I was holding into a wall, I think it was a bong, all I reemmber was that it shattered into a million pieces. I had just taken way too much speed and was having a very nasty bad trip you see. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT DAMMIT" I continued, kicking a sofa over, with the people still on it. of course I was at a party, and being super immature, but I suppose drugs was the only way to relive my childhood. too bad my inner child is so goddamn piss off. Everyone was afraid of me, they knew what I was capable of, so no one tried to stop me, they simply watched in slight shock and awe. I was 15, and ever so restless. I had also just started doing coke recently, and smoking heroin, so I wasn't sleeping well, it was quite the experiance. I jumped off the couch, walking toward the exit, no one tried to stop me, no one cared. I was walking into the night from this wild party toward the pier of huntington beach. as I walked a few people started to follow me, but not because they cared, but just to see what I was going to do. I hate people like that. I'm like that. I hate myself. fuck this shit. I walked faster, breaking into a run. the only nice thing about those hard drugs is it makes you feel like you can do anything, so after I ran the mile and a half to the pier, I simply jumped right over the edge to dive into the water. unfortunately bolted to the other side of the pier was a large metal trash can. I couldn't even believe my luck, I freaked out more, punching the can I was in, screaming violently, I'm sure my face looked like a contorted child that needed anger management, and I'm certain that was funny to all the dipshits watching, as they had finally caught up. and all of the suddenly I felt something shift. a sick creaking as the bolt supporting the trash can began to rip through the wood it was screwed into. I jumped to my feet by instinct, the can fell beneath me. it was like a bad bugs bunny cartoon where I was just standing on nothing for a second. I reached out, again, pure instinct, my body didn't want me to die as badly as I did. I latched onto the edge and considered letting go until one hand rested on top of mine, then gripped and pulled me up. it was a girl, older than me by quite a lot, and definately not my type. but it was curious... that feeling that someone else truly wanted me around. but then I realized she probably only did that to make herself feel good about herself. I nodded at her, that was all the thankyou I'd give, and then I stormed off, looking for something else to waste my time with. worst. attempted. suicide. ever.

***

It was now 3:30, I was in the car that would be headed up toward the epic party. perhaps I'd try to kill myself again? perhaps I would just get harmlessly fucked out and screw someones brains out. perhaps I'd just have a really good time and do whatever comes natural. I could already forsee the rest of the night.

I get there, I smoke, I smoke a bunch of people out, get a whole shit ton of numbers, and start adding them up in my head for how much money I can make off of them later. I enjoy myself for the most part, and no... I don't try to kill myself, not that night. instead I fall asleep aimlessly in the arms of some girl, or her in my arms, whichever you want to put it, I'm really not that picky

tonight, is a good night.

Word Count: Not precise but I imagine about 2800 without coding or the preamble stuff

Reira was all about being financially stable so planning her career path wasn’t exactly a new aspect to her early mornings. So here she was surfing the net with Excel open and many websites and tabs on the computer screen. Although Reira knew she would probably spend another year in high school due to her many absences, she was just checking out which colleges she would apply to. Reira was planning how much she had to save, which school she is capable of being accepted into, how much dorm and food fees with be along with tuition.

She had started saving money and investing money into educational saving plans and planned to apply for student loans but there is no such thing as being too safe.
Leaning back in her chair she stretched her arms back and looked up at the ceiling as her thoughts drifted off to her childhood. What did she want to be when she was a kid again?

-5 Years Old-

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” cheered a horde of children along with Reira’s family.

There she was sitting at the end of the table with a pink party hat on with a pink boa around her neck like a little diva. Yes, she was super girly and loved the whole princess look and she wouldn’t be judged for the very reason that it was her birthday and she had just turned five years old. It’s funny how when you were little birthdays in many families were the most important day in the whole year. At the time of your infancy and toddlerhood it was even more important than the day one got married!
Reira clapped her hands together when the giant chocolate cake with ice blue frosting was brought to the table. The children “OOhh-ed” and “Ahh-ed” at the sight of the giant cake as Reira’s mother beamed with pride, because after all she was the one that baked the cake. Reira’s father brought the candles and placed five into the spongy softness of the cake. Nathaniel, Reira’s brother only ruffled Reira’s hair messing it up before he dimmed the lights and the candles were lit.

A whole chorus started when suddenly the whole group of Reira’s kindergarten friends started singing happy birthday. The candlelight created an eerie glow that illuminated the various faces that sang to her with smiling faces. However, as eerie as they were Reira could only view them to be full of great cheer as she beamed while Nathaniel snapped pictures to save the moment.

When the song was done there was clapping before Reira’s mum made a comment,

“Okay now honey, make a wish!”

Reira clasped her hands together tightly and dramatically before she blew out the candles in one big breath. More clapping ensued and the cake was cut and passed around.

“So baby, now that you’re one year older you must have an idea of what you would want to be when you are older.”

Reira’s dad was asking the good old question of “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Adjusting her little pink party hat Reira flashed her pearly whites in time for a picture when she stated, “A Princess of course!”
--
Reira refocused her eyes and blinked a few times before she realized she had totally zoned out. Leaning back forward to face her computer screen she let out a soft chuckle in amusement. Oh how naive and cute she was to actually want to be a princess, just like any other girl around the age of five to seven. Grabbing her empty mug she went into the kitchen to make some lunch but caught sight of her mom napping on the couch. Slowly and quietly Reira stepped towards the couch and pulled the blanket closer to her mother face before entering the kitchen.

Reira made a quick jam sandwich and filled her tummy before she headed out into the backyard of her house. Sipping her home-made mocha cafe she sat down on the lawn chair stretching out and relaxing before her thoughts drifted once more.

--16 years old. You’re Hired. Now get to work!—

“Yes sir! This is my portfolio...I-I know it’s not professionally done but I assure you that I am capable of producing flawless work!” Reira urged as she leaned in closer to the large oak desk where a man in his thirties sat behind.

Reira was greeted by silence even though her eyes were speaking louder than the all but evident hum in the background. The man flipped through the small binder, looked at Reira, sighed then closed the book. Reira’s heart dropped because it seemed as though he did not even have the interest of looking at her photos. He took off his glasses and held them with his left hand while he rubbed his eyes wearily with his right.
Taking in a deep breath Reira prepared herself for the worse as the man opened his eyes once more, filled with a professional spirit as he leaned in closer towards Reira.

“Tell me little girl, what do you want to achieve. What is your goal...your dream? Why should I hire you.”

Reira sat up straighter in her chair and looked at the man straight in the eyes.

“I’m confident in my abilities and I am sure that I can improve even more. I have many years ahead of me to establish my name and my skill but in order for this to occur, an opportunity is what I need. To work for you...no to work in this industry to have the chance to experience the life of an artist... it would be a blessing. I know I am young but like many others I have a dream. What makes me different is that I would do anything in my power to achieve my dream to become the most famous and skilful make-up and hair designer in the world.

To be known internationally and work for the most prestigious companies is my dream. I won’t let you down, I can swear that I will not complain when there’s hardship and that I will not overstay my welcome if my work is no up to your expectations. All I’m asking for is a chance, Mr. Anderson.”

The man stared at Reira’s chocolate hues for a good minute before he leaned back in his chair. Another moment passed before he smiled and extended his hand.

“I have great expectations and I hope you do not disappoint me Reira, I do hope that you achieve your dream. Your determination is admirable...and I have to admit you show much potential for someone your age.”

Reira beamed as she returned the gesture, giving the man’s hand a firm shake.

“Thank you...thank you so much!”
--
Reira had to admit she was far from achieving such a title as a well-known and received make-up artist or hair designer, but she was getting there. Although she continued to work for Mr. Anderson till this day she wanted to expand her knowledge and go to college for a professional education in commerce, and business. That is to say that she would like to make a business in such industry once she establishes her name.

It was now dark and dinner time came closer but Reira was oblivious to that fact because she was fully immersed in lala-day dream back to the past land.

--Two nights ago—

Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I please speak to Ms. Reira Nikolov please?”

“Speaking, may I ask who is calling?”

“Ah, this is Covergirl Agency and we were very impressed by your work. We want to book you for one of our model’s Trisha Lee Marciano.”

Reira’s heart dropped. Adrenaline kicked in and joy just filled her body. What was this? CoverGirl was actually giving her a chance! It couldn’t be happening, but it was! Reira could not be happier because with this opportunity and growth she would start networking with professionals and be able to kick-start her career if she were to perform well.

“Yes...yes of course, wow, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me...”
--
Reira opened her eyes and laughed at her predicament. She surely was living up to what she said she was going to do. Princess and artist combined! How weird it was to remember that she wanted to be a princess and in some ironic way was still yearning to become one. Artist entrepreneur and internationally known? Yeah. Reira would call that being a princess.

“Reira?”

“Yes mum?”

“Dinner!”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Let’s just see what the future holds for her.