Despair and Desperation

I kinda always expected something like this would happen to me. Just knew it would. It’s not like I felt I never deserved anything good, just that I knew someone like me couldn’t possibly live a life where they weren’t eventually blamed for everything out of sheer bad luck until they were hunted down and killed. You could say I have low self-esteem or anxiety. Or you could just say I’ve got a case of bad luck.

All I know is, I was born this way.

I wish I’d memorized the halls better. My bad sense of direction makes for just another weakness stacked up on all the other reasons I suck. I’m practically running face first into walls here as I bumble my way through the university, making as much space between me and the literal cops trying to tackle me as I can. Seems ridiculous, but for some reason, not impossible. I don’t think my insolent struggling is pointless, even if it fails. Like… this is what I ought to do. It doesn’t make sense not to go down without a fight.

⨁

One afternoon I was with that fat kid- the blonde one- over in the arcade room. It’s the only place in the whole school that has carpet- it’s that 90’s kind, black and with rainbow designs. It’s also the only place where the machines weren’t modified. Well, not too much, anyway.

“This one is so fun, dude! Come on, give it a shot!”

A long time ago, this huge complex was nothing more than a place for kids more fortunate than I to have birthday parties. More or less, it all looked like the arcade room does now. And instead of turning in assignments on these old video game displays, they’d actually play them, like you can do here. Tokens were still used, but they weren’t nearly so serious.

We were standing next to a skeeball game when I noticed one of the new machines they implemented. No screen, just a metal box with a token slot and an area for something to come out.

It read: “10000 tokens for this special insurance package insert here!”

“Isn’t that, like, four hundred bucks?” Was my first thought. The idea of insurance always disgusted me anyway. Who’s gonna think that far ahead? I almost throw up at the thought of caring that much. Why would anyone do such a thing?

But in seconds I got to see someone actually use it. They spent forever rolling in lines of tokens. Then, they got a paper. It was like the reverse of turning in an assignment. Staring at that paper, they looked so happy. So content.

The thought nagged at me the whole rest of that awful day. In an abandoned janitorial closet, it became another one of those ideas that just never leave me alone. Didn’t wanna ask about it. Didn’t wanna verbalize it. But it wasn’t going anywhere.

Suddenly, I realized it was the worst day of my life, and I had no idea what I was doing.

I came here- to Northeast Pizza College- because it looked easy. I didn’t really care to go to college to begin with, but I thought future me might have it better if I did. So I picked a place that seemed to cater to screw-ups like me. Free pizza. A slacker atmosphere. Perfect, right? But as it turns out, I’m in a janitor’s closet, and I’m holding a rope that was in here for some reason. I’d folded the thing into a noose.

As I do with everything, I debated myself over it for a good hour. Should’ve been a sign I wasn’t gonna do it. But I kept thinking anyway. It only made it hurt more. How low had I fallen to reach this place? Why was I here? Was there anything more for me?

I couldn’t answer any of those things, and that only made me wanna do it more.

I managed to actually hang the rope from an exposed pole. For once, everything was laid out for me. The more I think about it, there was no reason not to do it.

“But like, I might as well not.” I thought. Cause… yeah. I could just die there. And that’d be the smart thing to do. But… if I lived all the way through to see my real end, I could at least say to god or whatever… I told you so. I told you life sucked. And it did. You never showed me anything better. I loved the whole thing to the end, and not one bit of it was good.

I win.

⨂

I’m at that moment now. The end of my life. And as it stands, it looks like I was right. Things couldn’t possibly have gone any worse. I’m half-glad I didn’t kill my self that day. On the other hand, at least then I wouldn’t have had to see my own mother send me to the gates of hell.

The pigs are catching up. My time is soon.

“Come on, give it up! Running’s only gonna make things worse, you know!”

They don’t even sound panicked or like they’re trying. I’m not special. They’re still trying to win me over. Trying to convince me it’s not worth it to fight. And all of a sudden, I get it.

That’s it. That’s the thing that keeps me going. You want me to stop, do you? So you guys all just want me to give up, and bow my head. 

Fuck you.

Out of nowhere, I’m running faster than before. I can actually feel again. It’s like I’ve been numb all my life up until this very moment. Passing by dorm after dorm, I’m going as fast as my body can manage to piss off these cops. To piss off god. I see the tower of pizza boxes outside my room again. That is to say, the room marked with my name. Faster. My muscles are burning. Faster. My heart’s gonna explode. Faster. My lungs are tightening. Faster. I won’t give up. I won’t ever give up.

I make the mistake of running straight into a dead end.

Just like always, I wasn’t thinking. Out of instinct, I ran straight into the arcade room. Everybody in here’s looking at me and I’m not moving. There’s nowhere too move. I hear the cop’s feet stomping up behind me. They’ll be here any second. I have to fight.

I scurry up to one of those “test of strength” machines and rip the hammer off it. The mallet’s surprisingly heavy, but my noodle arms won’t be enough to make it kill those officers. Hell, it probably won’t even hurt them. I gotta be smart. For once, just once, I gotta be smart. Please let me be smart.

The cops show up at the door.

Shit.

I almost drop the hammer in fear, running towards the back of the arcade. I force myself to hold on. Maybe there’s something I can do. Maybe there’s a way out. Can I circle around?

Both of them are hot on my trail. Inches away, really. Not that I can afford to turn around and look. Time slows down. In milliseconds, their porky hands will grab me. I can’t let that happen. I can’t.

Just ahead of me, I see that damn machine again.

“10000 tokens for this special insurance package insert here!”

I swing as hard as I can. Like a piñata, the golden explosion litters the ground in a million tokens. The cops stumble on the pile of currency. In the chaos, students run to grab their share. I round the room, dashing through machines to get away.

I actually made it.

I keep running. Gotta make as much space as I can. Gotta get out. Gotta get out.

Then what?

What exactly happens if I do escape? I didn’t know what I was doing in life before, much less now, after all this has happened.

…I can’t worry about that now.

I just keep running. Faster than I’ll ever run again. Come on. Find the exit. Find it. FIND IT.

I stop.

I’m in the cafeteria, watching him hold her.

The ovens are off now. so there’s not a sound other than my heavy breathing. My thoughts are slowing, too. All I have to go off right now is what I’m looking at.

Then, he speaks.

“Okay, you had your fun. Now quit running, Tim. Your mother’s agreed to die if you don’t.”

He holds the gun to her chin. She’s not doing anything to get away. Just completely submitting to Headmaster Mikalas’ crooked ways.

I can’t move. I can’t do anything.

“Good boy.” The Headmaster says.

I guess I’m useless after all.