Is it all in my head?
Seeing Red
Days upon days I sit watching the long monotonous hours pass me by. The only thing that
keeps me going is the coffee and the sweat taste of revenge. My hands encircle the
warm styrofoam cup. I draw in the hot black liquid and swallow it down slowly
as I close my eyes. I can feel it coming on strong now. It has to be getting close.
Here I am hunkering down inside my car the fortress of doom. I’m parked in front of the
dormitory. This is where my bike is locked up against the rail next to the exit. I sit here
waiting patiently for the limy bastard who stole the tires off my bike. My eyes are tired
and blood shot. A fog of cigarette smoke clouds the inside of my car. On the dashboard
a heap of cigarette butts reaches up to the windshield.
I have quit going to college in order to devote the rest of my time to catching the thief.
The thief who has already stolen two of my tires. I am going to out smart him. I put
new tires on my bike as bait, and I am now sitting and waiting for him to try and steel
them. My entire life is now devoted to catching this wretched bastard. This is why I
have been sitting in my car for two days straight. Without any communication from
another human being. Totally sealed off from the outside world. Fighting my own
private battle. Living my own private hell.
The entire weekend I have spent inside the cramped confines of my car. My only source
of nutrition has been from the vending machines in the building next to me. Wrappers lay
strewn across the floor boards. I am strung out on potato chips and ding dongs. My
blood sugar level is dangerously low. I am now teetering on the edge of psychosis do to
lack of sleep and listening the radio. “Sugar pie honey bun” echoes inside my mind as
the radio whines on. I never know when the thief might strike. Like a coiled snake
springing from its hiding place to viciously molest my bicycle. Every time I walk out
momentarily to get something to eat I anticipate the crooks return. I constantly visualize
him hunched over my bike steeling one of my tires. This image floats into my mind
every time my bike is out of sight. This obtrusive thought is whipping my mind up into a
manic frenzy. The petty tyrant rules my brain drawing me to the edge. I am at a constant
state of readiness all day long. A sprinter held poised at that starting blocks muscles
tensed waiting for a signal or even an excuse to charge.
Beads of sweat trickle down my face. My hand shakes as I puff away on my cigarettes.
Non-filters, the only thing that can keep me awake. People walk by my car eyeing me
suspiciously. Anyone of them could be Mr. X. Wait a second someone is approaching
my bicycle. He looks nervous. Suddenly in a shifty glance he turns towards the car. I let
out a yelp and then duck my head down to avoid those prying eyes. In my haste I drop
the lit cigarette on my lap. Do I smell flesh burning? I stifle a scream not wanting to give
away my hiding place. Slumped down in my seat I slowly peer over the dashboard. I can
still feel the heat from his eyes frantically searching the car scanning for motion.
Unfortunately he was not the one. I saw him get on his bike nonchalantly and ride off not
even sensing how close he had come to total annihilation. I wish he had just tried to steel
my tire. Then he would have had to learn the law. True, I am the only law in this town.
Replacing the fat egotistical flabby arm of the law that doesn’t even fight the real crime.
Sometimes despite critics you have to take the law into your own hands. When is this
thing going to end? Anyone who passes my bike I silently dare to take my tires. I have
no friends. I can trust no one.
It’s now 2:00 a.m. Monday morning the vigil is still going strong. The entire weekends
been played out like some cheap hooker. I’m completely out of cigarettes ,which
wouldn’t be a problem except that I am too tired and too angry to get anymore. So now I
just sit here silently sucking on a filter. I’ve practically emptied out the vending machine
all they have left is mints and gum. My car has become a giant trash can and I have been
steadily jacking off all night long. The cushioned seats are soaked with perspiration
,which is now cool with the morning air. My eye lids are growing very heavy. I’m using
my fingers now to keep them open.
Tragedy strikes, I really have to take a piss. An enormous pressure is swelling up inside
of me. Quickly, I get out of the car and run to the bathroom. There’s nothing more
satisfying than taking a good piss. Suddenly relieved I walk out of the bathroom. Into
the fresh morning air I go wondering if I will ever catch Mr. X.
On my way back I see a dark figure hunched over my bike. Some fat red neck with a
baseball cap on. My eyes see red and my brain is clouded with anger. At last I have him
inside the web. The moment of capture is fixed in time forever. I have no plan I simply
run on impulse. In a reflexive flowing motion I reach into my pocket and take hold of
my switch blade. In an elegant sweep of surprise and grace I quickly pull out the knife.
With a press of a button the razor sharp blade instantly flashes out gleaming brightly in
the rising sun. My mind is totally empty. Vengeance is mine. “Die you scum bag” ,I
scream. I can feel the knife go in nice and easy the blade slips through his chest. I hear
the crunch of bone and my victim lets out an ear piercing scream. My face is contorted
with rage as I viciously and repeatedly stab him. The man is frightened like a scared
animal. His eyes turn wild and crazy sensing his coming death. He knows it is near. His
life blood gushes out from his gapping wounds as he tries to run while holding his chest.
He leaves a trail of blood a few feet from where he stood. Then he drops head first into
the ground with a loud thud. A lifeless form sprawled out on the side walk. Excitement
and exhilaration runs up my spine like a surge of electricity. I have total euphoria. I look
down at my blood soaked hands. Blood is everywhere. My heart is racing and I close my
eyes and breathe in the sweat smell of victory.