All the Other Days. Jack Hartley

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СКАЧАТЬ around with every day, how upset she must be all the time, and Dad has no idea at all. I wish he knew; maybe he’d do something different. Most likely not though. He’s so trapped in his own world that we seem to be second thoughts to him. We finish our coffees and reluctantly drive back home.

      My father yells out to me from across the room, ‘Come and watch the game with me, boy!’

      He never does this, so I sit on the sofa next to him. I don’t know if this is a part of one of his manic episodes where he’s nice, or if he does want to watch the game with me. I don’t even really like watching sports or understand them, but either way, it’s nice for a change. He hands me a Budweiser and we watch the basketball match together. I can feel my Mom’s eyes from behind the sofa watching us and I know she will be smiling. Finally, some peace and quiet for her at home. My father doesn’t say much while we watch the game, but it’s a big step for him, and to be honest I’m just so happy he’s acknowledged me today that the silence doesn’t bother me. The whistles and the cheering fill the air anyway. After the game finishes, I go upstairs to get ready for bed. My head feels odd, like I’m not quite with everything today. I guess it’s probably us nearly crashing and Dad’s attempt to spend time with me, but little things like that play up in my head.

      I can’t just turn everything off for a moment. I analyse everything that happens and try to search for a reason why it does, but I mostly get nowhere with my thoughts other than feeling like I’m sinking even more than before I started thinking. I go through my usual routine of picking out an album to play. I put on Tess Parks’ album Blood hot and play the first track “Somedays”. I love her husky voice, the way the words roll off her tongue like she doesn’t care about trying to sound pretty or anything. I’ve played this album I don’t know how many times, and this song especially, but I’ve never really listened to the lyrics before today.

      I guess I like them because I can relate a lot to them. She sings that she prays to a God but doesn’t know who he is. I don’t know who I am praying to at church, but hoping there’s something out there who is listening to me gives me comfort. Some days I hate everything and some days I don’t. Today is one of those days when I don’t, and it’s because of her. I want to know her. I need to. Why do I keep seeing her in my dreams and in places if it doesn’t mean anything? And if this wasn’t confusing enough, my father making an effort with me throws me off too. This would be the first time in years that he has made a slight effort with me, and I can only imagine what it would be like for everyone else with a Dad who is actually involved. I want to document that memory, so I get out my sketch pad and draw my father and I sitting on the sofa watching the basketball game. Normally I draw my pictures with dark heavy tones and lots of shadows. But that’s normally because they are sad moments, and this is a happy one. I draw my father looking over at me while I watch the game, so I can remember him acknowledging me — something I haven’t felt for a long time. I finish the drawing and place it on the happy side of my room. I hope this memory might not have to be a picture always.

      Judd

      Day 2

      My day at school starts off well, I got my assignment mark back for art and got an A for my portfolio drawing work. I drew a series of pictures on the subject of schizophrenia showing a man being strangled by his own arms and getting hung. I love to draw dark things because I think this kind of stuff is often ignored. It’s as though because it’s bad we shouldn’t talk about it. I just find it so fascinating how the brain can change a person completely and how they can become a prisoner trapped inside their own mind controlled by voices that are created within them. Sometimes I wonder if maybe we’re all a little bit schizophrenic having conversations with ourselves in our head. Not to the extent in which it takes over our whole lives, but with the conversations. I know I’m constantly talking to myself going over every possible scenario before I do something. It’s like our conscience is another personality we all carry with us which helps us to make sense of things as it’s constantly thinking and taking in everything that happens in our lives.

      Arthur sits with me at lunch on the field which is nice because I haven’t hung out with him here for a while. He always has something on at lunch times.

      ‘How was your weekend, dude?’ he asks with the cheeky look he has when he’s done something he wants to tell me.

      ‘Yeah, wasn’t too bad. Just stayed in and drew. How about you?’

      ‘Yeah, mine was good. I got pretty fucked up at this party and ended up getting with this girl, but I passed out in her bed and woke up with writing all over my face. So good weekend all round,’ he says as he laughs.

      ‘Sounds like another successful night out finding a girlfriend.’

      ‘How’s the lady hunt going for you?’ he asks as he punches my arm.

      ‘Same as always, not really at all. But, I saw this girl in the weekend at the beach, and she was gorgeous. I think she’s our age, but I’ve never seen her at our school before.’

      ‘Well, I doubt she came here for a holiday. She might have just started her or something?’

      ‘Yeah maybe, I don’t know.’

      ‘Well, let’s keep an eye out for ya.’

      ‘She’s well out of my league though, man.’

      ‘That doesn’t matter. As long as you talk like you’re in the same league, you’re in the same league, trust me,’ he says nodding his head like he’s God’s gift to women.

      I wish I had the confidence that he has when it comes to girls, but I just don’t. When I watch films, the girls always like the bad guy, the one who could get them in trouble but somehow always has a way out of it. But I’m not like that. I’m scared. Scared of failing and just scared of messing up, so I usually just don’t bother. I guess he’s right though. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been the best when it comes to girls, because I just count myself out before I even try.

      I haven’t been to the park for a few days now, so I decide to walk past there on the way home. As I look over to my usual seat across the park, I notice someone sitting there. The closer I walk towards it, the clearer it becomes that this is my lucky day. I realise it’s the girl from the beach and my dreams. I stop for a second because I don’t know if I should walk over there or not, or what I would even say. What if she’s nothing like I’ve imagined her to be? What if she has an annoying voice or a boyfriend? Boyfriend? Why are you even worrying about that? You’ve seen her face for all of two seconds, and that’s what you’re worried about? The conversation goes over in my head until I feel something in the back of my mind saying, ‘Fuck it’. It’s almost like Arthur is telling me what to do, but maybe I should take a page out of his book for once and do what he does. I’ve got nothing to lose here. I feel my legs start to move towards the seat and before I know it, I’m standing in front of her. She’s wearing light blue Levis jeans with ripped black Chuck Taylors, a white T-shirt tucked in and a big green army bomber jacket. She looks like the coolest girl ever.

      ‘Hey, do you mind if I sit next to you?’ I ask. She doesn’t hear me at first and then I realise it’s because she has her earphones on.

      She looks up startled at me. ‘Shit, you gave me a fright!’

      ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Do you mind if sit here?’

      ‘Yeah, sure thing.’

      We sit there both quiet and all I’m thinking of is what to say next. She pulls her earphones out and looks over at me.

      ‘Sorry, you СКАЧАТЬ