And so it's time for:
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For the rest of you, enjoy!
Red Abyss Insatiable - II. Value and Worth - Part Two
Transcripts for your read-alone or read-along pleasure:
Aden’s memory tunneled into a time somewhere back
in the past, back before life became riddled with complexity. The dreary lifestyle of sorrow, confusion,
and inhibited frustrations would eventually enter his life gradually, like an
invisible poison set to grow with the turning of each season; but before any
poison entered the blood of his spirit, Aden remembered when he was, on the
contrary, a very carefree soul who smiled often and spread his positive nature
with a creative, exuberant aura. It was
in his history where an entire collaboration of memories existed, real memories
of an optimistic universe.
He could recall a man, his father, Alexander,
teaching him how to swim at the public pool, promising to catch him if he so
decided to leap into the deep. He
remembered Emily, his mother, the way she would exchange the loose change he’d
find for small pieces of candy in order to teach him the necessary basics of
mathematics before he began formal schooling.
Aden remembered his eldest sister Ariel,
the firstborn of the three Walker
children who would occasionally dress her little brother up in several silly
outfits for no other reason than to enjoy the genuine laughs that stemmed from
such behavior. She would take him out
for ice cream, let him meet her older friends, practice her cheerleading
routines in front of him before asking for his childish opinion. Aden remembered
his other sister, the middle child of the Walker
children, Angelica, who would often read to him, voicing out the many
characters from dozens of books, teaching him that as long as you had an
imagination, you could see the pictures that were otherwise hidden. But most of all, Aden could remember the smiles. They were happy people, this Walker family.
Aden
recalled the scent, after so many years, of the cologne his father would wear. He recalled the way his father’s hair had
been cut, the top of his head thick and full, the back of his neckline squared
off, his dark hair barely sprinkled with the traces of white tips. In his blue work uniform and slacks, his
father had groomed himself well. Alexander’s
big horn-rimmed glasses and his full-beard would always arrive from the
hallway, traveling into the kitchen. His
knee would crack, and he would pick up the morning paper, tapping his finger
upon the counter while humming softly as his eyes scanned the black ink.
Emily would be in the kitchen, cooking a
quick breakfast, perhaps of oatmeal, or sometimes of eggs and homemade
biscuits. She’d kiss her husband good
morning before placing the plates around the table. She always cooked enough for everyone,
assuring full stomachs as well as leftovers.
Her hair would be made up, shiny, dark, and thick. The clothes she wore would be neatly ironed,
and her earrings would shine beautifully.
She was a caring woman, often providing more than necessary.
Ariel would have been doing her own thing
in her bedroom, either listening to music or talking on the phone. While Aden
loved and looked up to Ariel, she was more of a role-model than a friend. Angelica on the other hand, was the sister
with whom he shared much of the same experiences. Their closeness in age ensured this truth. They would see each other at the same school;
most of the people who knew Angelica knew Aden,
and visa-versa. Their home life was filled
with the same joys and troubles, often times getting each other into one or the
other without complaint or apology. Angelica
was definitely the Walker who Aden
felt most connected to. It was a kinship
that was built to last through thick or thin, given the circumstances.
Aden
remembered who he used to be as a separate entity, away from his family. Whilst amongst peers or exploring the young
academic lifestyle, Aden
was often a very polite, jovial kind of boy.
He made friends easily. The only enemies
he had were those he chose to have, which meant that he had none at all. He made the bullies laugh, and he flattered
the girls. He had been raised by his
mother and father, who taught him how to lend a helping hand, especially when a
helping hand was all that was needed.
That happy-go-lucky mindset with the smiles and the friends lasted for a
while. It was a time when things were
good, just as his family had been a content unit.
Each of those recollections followed the
one most tangibly potent: Alexander’s
cologne. It reminded Aden of those times when everything made
sense, when smiles were genuine and frequented by real people. Even as he washed his vomit off of the
bathroom floor, he could smell that cologne, like a spice sprinkled upon the
surface of an old memory.
The good times would eventually roll away,
and the value of those times only rendered subsequent events more painful. Sometimes, Aden wished he had been born in grit and
grime. He was convinced that if things
had begun in the dark, then he wouldn’t have lost his sight adapting to a place
without light.
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Next Part: II. Value and Worth - Part Three
I hope you've enjoyed going deeper into the abyss!
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And you can read about my more personal take on life events by becoming invisible.
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Have a wonderful time wondering.
Until next time...
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| Art by Keaton G. Wolfe |
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