As the screaming and commotion all around grew with intensity, I smiled to myself, feeling thankful to be the driver. My small, white, toaster-shaped car, aptly referred to as the Toastmobile, was not equipped to handle more than a small group and with eight people crammed tightly in, continuously fighting over radio stations and seat positioning, it was somewhat unstable. Yet, as she slowly plodded along, rocking on her axis, due partly to the enduring game of twister in the back seat and partly to the deafening, distorted rock music blaring from her fragile speakers, I applied pressure to the brake pedal, ensuring that her four wheels all remained firmly on the ground as we tilted around a corner. Although not the most spacious or sturdiest of cars, the Toastmobile was tough and we had tremendous faith in her. We had spent many memorable evenings in such a manner, under her protective watch, and this was certainly no exception.
It had come to our attention that one of South Africa's local, apparently extremely talented, rock bands was to be playing a concert at one of our local bars and, perceiving ourselves as somewhat insightful music experts, it was this information that had enflamed a desire, deep within our adolescent psyches, to pay homage to a place, no doubt, infested with the most dangerous of vagabonds. Thus it was that our pilgrimage led us to the heart of the beast's lair.
Somewhere, within the midst of the ensuing chaos, there seemed to emanate a growing sense of excitement, which seeped though the tangled bodies and slowly began to saturate the air. I could feel the excitement emitted from my fellow crusaders, permeate my skin, creeping tacitly along my spine, playfully tempting me. An overwhelming desire to completely embrace such an emotion engulfed me, yet, a familiar, perhaps despised, feeling of apprehension, whispered silently into my soul, evaporating all traces of contentment. I felt uneasy and slightly frightened, yet remained calm and placid, praying that none of my comrades would sense my vulnerability and seize the opportunity to unwittingly humiliate me.
The road along which we traveled was, by no means, straight, nor was it narrow and, as bodies tumbled around in the back, it took great effort to follow the desired path, yet, through many, barely discernible directions, volunteered by those who had previously travailed, we reached our destination.
The scene which greeted us outside was, doubtless, a representation of the horror which awaited us within the pit of darkness. With much trepidation, I guided our troupe through the raging torrents, searching for an area from which we could safely disembark. Discovering that such a place was housed only within the shallow desires of the carnal mind, I navigated our way through the bedlam to the most secure place that I could find and, as we drew to a stop, doors burst open, enthusiastic buccaneers tumbled free and the Toastmobile's protective sheath vanished. My associates glided swiftly into the den. I was, however, more cautious, deliberately dawdling in my dismount, slowly gathering my thoughts and emotions, while simultaneously attempting to appear calm and relaxed, even though all inklings of such composure had long since fled.
We ambled into the labyrinth and, as my apprehension grew, I felt that all were staring at me. Just barely eighteen and still enrolled in high school, it was not illegal that we were there; however, our presence was not entirely kosher. As I looked around the smoke-filled room, feeling nauseous and certainly unwelcome, a scantily clad woman grabbed my arm, stamping my hand as she glared at me, no doubt wondering my age. Along the left wall ran a counter, full to capacity, where damnation, in liquid form, could be purchased. Tightly packed, from wall to wall with little space for movement, were wooden tables where the ignorant consumers of darkness reveled. A stage, flanked on either side by dozens of powerful speakers, loomed in front, above our heads, while revelers danced just below it and deathly frightening music impeded any possibility of realization. Following my friends, who seemed quite comfortable with the entire situation, I weaved my way through crowds of people, some friendly, some frightening, some sober, some not so much, yet, as I was led through the maze, I noticed that all seemed in a daze, uncertain of why or if they even existed at all. This was all very new to me and, as we somehow stumbled our way over to an empty table, I found myself confused, not comprehending this room of strange faces. I think I was afraid. Perhaps by willfully entering this festering pit of degradation, I had allowed myself to be ensnared, becoming trapped, a desperate wonderer, to be numbered among the lost sheep of the fold. Drowning in my fears, lost among a sea of faces, I searched for something... anything - just a glimmer of hope somehow affirming the existence of sanity. Overwhelmed by the noise and commotion, I stumbled, dropping my head and looking to the ground, attempting to find myself amidst the confusion. As I lifted my head, feeling a renewal of strength and more hopeful in my ability to deal with such pandemonium, I felt my heart stop cold. My eyes, endlessly scanning the room, had come to rest upon something that caused my entire being to shudder.
That unmistakable, dark hair, falling just off the shoulders; that smooth, tan complexion and those thin, penetrating eyes, awoke a terror deep within my soul that had long since slept. I felt the whole room close in around me, engulfing my entire frame, while everywhere, the mindless sheep ceased their activities and stared down into the depths of my very soul, as if it had been laid out plainly for all to see. My soul seemed to be hurling itself from within, against the sides of my body, trying desperately to escape and causing my whole body to tremble as if it were vibrating. Climaxing in my head, which began to throb and become tremendously hot, it settled exactly between my temples, causing a sensation somewhat similar, I would imagine, to that felt by Vesuvius, just before she buried the entire population of Pompeii. Fearing the imminent implosion of my skull, there flashed through my mind, the memory of this stunning beauty which had so gracefully slipped into my gaze, calling back the most sinister of ghosts from my past.
As an innocent preschooler, I happened to find myself in the presence of one, beautiful, friendly girl, who instantly held me captive. I was smitten and being the suave, sophisticated, young charmer that I was, I swiftly set about to melt her heart, that the love which she possessed might magnanimously wash over me, entwining our souls permanently. It was not long before I obtained my objective and her emotional fortress was breached, permitting all the affection held therein to flow freely, thus welding us together - soul mates for eternity. In the many years to come, we would share every experience of growing up - chasing each other through the playground, sleeping over at each other's houses and, occasionally, sneaking an innocent kiss behind the shed. Yet, things were not always to be this way.... One seemingly typical day, with no warning or apparent reason, she thrust a dagger deeply into my spinal cord, twisting it, as she proceeded to reach deep into my chest, tear my heart from it's cavity and let it fall to the earth, tramping over it, as she mercilessly walked away from my life. I was bewildered and utterly confused. I shut myself within walls that could not be penetrated, pretending that I was indifferent to the betrayal of one so dear and immediately buried my emotions deep within. I became a rather shy, quiet individual, unaware of the shattered pieces of soul which lay in the nadir of my being. As the memory of what once was, lay torn in shreds, I lost all confidence and my chalice of youthful charm drained into a crater of insecurity.
Fearful of all things emotional, it took me years to realize the value of what I had lost and had only recently begun a very slow, painful recovery, when upon her in that dark place, I stumbled, unleashing the memory of that moment which so powerfully grips and haunts me, unceasingly. Feeling exactly as I had felt in that moment, I shrank at the confrontation, while it seemed that numberless pairs of eyes burned the flesh off my body, stripping it to the soul, revealing all that lay buried within its depths. In the most vulnerable of positions, I tried my utmost to protect my fragile soul.
Our eyes met for only a moment before fear overcame me and I withered at her gaze. I pretended that I had not seen her, however I felt desperate and vulnerable. I shifted my position ever so slightly, placing myself just out of her view, yet although my actions were subtle and barely noticeable, it seemed that all looked upon with contempt, discerning my intentions and the reason for my discomfort. Trying desperately to recover from such a painful onslaught of emotion that mercilessly ravaged my soul, I sneaked a glance, through the menacing hordes, at the girl who had, so severely hurt me and so greatly molded the personality I had developed. Staring at her strategically created image, I noticed a brown bottle in her hand, the contents of which I was certain - many, once cherished, allies had been taken captive by this vice. I again looked up to her face and stared deeply into her eyes. In that moment, all energy drained from my body and I felt as if I had tumbled down the rabbit hole, into the pit of despair, where hope, now only a myth, was lost forever. I saw, in her glazed eyes, that sad, pleading look which was common among all the lost sheep who had slithered into this hollow. I realized that during her absence from my life, she had been sucked into this realm of self-loathing and was trapped, held by invisible bonds which she could neither break nor comprehend. My shattered heart swelled with sorrow for the fate of one who had once been loved so deeply. Regretting my fearful reactions of the past, I felt a great desire to ignite even the tiniest flame of hope, which certainly lay buried, deep within her soul, thus reawakening our forgotten love and healing the emotional scars which I shamefully bore. Yet, the absolute fear of humiliation which she had, so many years before, etched into my character, gripped me tightly and being unable to prevail, unable to move or even speak, she slipped from my presence - my eyes never to behold her again.
Some weeks later, two days before I was to leave the place of my birth, the only town I had ever known, to attend university in the United States of America, I found myself alone with the Toastmobile, our destination unclear, yet I felt calm, encircled in her protective shield. As we lazily strolled along the road, I lost myself within the content reminiscence of my mind, thinking back through the ages which came before. When awakened from my peaceful slumber, I noticed that we had come to a halt, directly across from the home which I had known so well as a child - the home in which I had learnt of friendship, pain and ultimately love. I sat for a moment, staring at the home in which I knew the love of my youth still resided. A mixture of emotion washed over me, then calmly, I said farewell and continued, at my own leisurely pace, through the world which I had created.
Copyright © 2008 by Layne Cockcroft
All Rights Reserved
1 comment:
I want part two!!
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