Noise

Noise, it again rings in his ear. The babies crying, the Sergeant yelling, the masturbating monkey chirping in excitement. John screaming in the background. It's now 5:30 am. The radio continues.

"Good morning Arizona. This is the Morning Sickness with John Holmberg, Brady Bogan, Creepy E, and big Dick Tolido. First off I just wanna talk about something before we begin. And that is the subject of Obama. I'm just reading more and more and more about this guy who keeps popping forward about the uh Gay allegations against Barack Obama and just found another article..."

Beep, beep, beep. Click.

With the alarm off he reluctantly gets up, turning to plant his feet firmly on the floor. Stabilizing himself for the moment he decides to stand. He wants to scream. The constant chatter in his mind is back again. He hates waking up. It's depressing to sleep in such a silence, so perfect for the short 7 hours, calm, content, but you have to wake up to this.

Gahhhhh! Errrrrrr... Ahhhhhhhhh! The banging feels like his eardrum wants to rupture, but sadly won't. It's been like this since he could remember. The never-ending noise, bothering him, distracting him. Slowly wishing he could just end it all. Wake up!

He almost falls when he first stands. He didn't remember telling his muscles to stand upwards. Creaking floors as he walks. Bones in his body clashing as the movement continues toward the bathroom. He never liked showers. Not that he didn't like being clean or have good hygiene. Imagine the sound of artillery shooting its massive round. It landing 20 feet away. Just the sound though. Not the power of the force knocking him out cold or ripping his body to shreds. It was always like this. Sounds amplified in the early morning. Not until he starts walking to school did sound go normal, but he would still have the constant chatter in his head. That never leaves. Only during sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Wake up!

It was like thousand rounds going off one after the other. Boom. Bang. Noise. He washes his entire body. He likes being clean. One of the things he can control. One of them at least. Not the chatter though. Never the chatter. Constant. More noise. Brushing his teeth. The small, tiny brushes grinding against his teeth. Scraping away particles, dirty, left over food from the night before. Yes, he brushes his teeth before bed. Gargle, gargle, spit.

Creak, clank, cling. Each stair steps making its usual sounds in the morning. Ugh, he thought. Will this ever go away?. Nope, not a chance, never ever.

His mother was already down stairs in the kitchen making him breakfast. Such a good mother. Always trying to help him. He told his mother at a young age of the chatter in his head. And how sounds were amplified 10 times during the first hour of waking up. Schizo, is what the "doctors" told them. Either borderline or what was it? Didn't matter; they were wrong. He knew! Knew it wasn't Schizophrenia. But he could not deny. The medicine did help lower the volume of the chatter in his head.

His mom spoke in a low voice. "Take your medicine."

The plain taste of the pill. Chalky. He needs more water. He sits down. Hands over his ears. Wanting it to go away. Please God. Please. Frantic. Help me!

All in his head. His body didn't show what was happening though. Just a normal looking boy. At a young age of 18. He just sat there. Looking off into space. What? Huh? What are you saying?

"I said!" She immediately realized she was sort of yelling and in a low voice asked. "I hope you're not on drugs again baby."

"No Mom." Man he wished he were though. It helps keep his brain focusing on the noise. Keeps him calm and relaxed. Relaxing. Relax.

Errrrr...ahhhhhhh! The fucking screaming, piercing his head. He disliked that the most. He heard his own voice screaming in the background of his chatter. Begging to be put down. Pleading. Asking. Please stop. It was like listening to a song he knew. NIN. Eraser. From the CD Further down the Spiral. Listen to that. He thought. If wanting a small idea of what how it sounds in his head.

Pop, suck, gulp. The pill made its way down his throat. Going to his digestive system. Breaking up. Enter his blood stream. Then to his heart when it will be pumped through out his entire body. Hopefully just his head. He wished it would all go there. Where?

The food was good, but he couldn't enjoy it. He could hear his his fork clang in his mouth when he deposited food from his fork to his mouth. Annoying. Distracting. Hopelessness. All done. Off to school. To school, to school we go.

While he walks, the noise of sounds around him go back to normal. He laughs. Normal. Such a thing has no existence for him. Blah, blah, screaming, noise. Constant never ending noise! He looks at this watch. Twenty-5 more minutes before the medicine begins to help. Toning down the volume in his head. Like a dial. It's now on 9. Soon it should be at 4. He wants to rip the dial off.

Footsteps at a running pace make more sound than just walking. The heavy weight being distributed though the body. The heaviness mostly going into the legs as it carries a body further and closer to him. The fact that the kid was wearing boots did not help. He could only imagine how that would have sounded like twenty minutes ago.

"Hey what's going on?" It was Joe. Joe shmo. Joe blow. Joe, Joe. Hoe Joe. Leave...Me...Alone. He should be nicer to Joe he thought. One of the few people that actually likes him. Weird huh. The wind was picking up. Faster and faster it went. Blowing the trees leaves back and sway. Forth and sway. Sway.

"Nothing, same ole, nothing." He left it at that. Perhaps if he didn't ask Joe what was going on with him. He just might leave. Annoy someone else. Go. Fly, fly. Didn't work.

"That's cool. So you ready for our math test today? Did you study? I heard it was hard? What did you hear about the test.?" Joe asking more and more questions. Keep going Joe. You were on a role. Ask more. How about: What's your sign? Why do you have constant noise in your head? Are you crazy? Have you ever had sex? What do you think about the movie Happy Feet?

Errrrrrrr...ahhhhhhhhh! More screaming. More and more and more and more and more... wait what was that?

"Dude wake up." Joe is disappointed that he isn't being listened to. "Are you going to go to the party at Jake's on Friday. Crystal is going to be there."

Too much at once. Party... Jake's... attending is the beautiful Crystal. What's today? 15th August. Not the date.

"Um," HAHA! Yeah right. Go to a party. Hha. What was crazy Joe blow thinking?. "I don't think I can go." Joe just looks at him with a face that shows he doesn't believe him.

"Fine, I won't go. What does it matter anyway. Just an excuse for kids to drink, smoke, and fuck. I don't need a party to do that." Drink? Creates more chatter. Smoke? Depends on what I smoke. Fuck? Yes please.

"Geez, what's your problem today? I'm just saying, you need to go out more. Cut loose. Have fun. Ya know?"

We are sorry, but the party you are trying to reach has stopped caring about what ever is being spoken. Please leave a message.

They arrive at school. Back entrance. To the back. Doors open. Pencils ready. Paper down. Learn!

First Period. The teacher was the type who just talks. Just words and words. Like he needs more of that. Today class we are going to learn. Learn. We are going to learn about why America is the best country in the world. Why everyone else hates us. We are the biggest super power. Blah, blah. Political propaganda. America is great. They have no rules. Don't want to become a democracy? Bombs. Invades. Fucks up. Bombs. Leaves. Comes back. Takes oil. Leaves again. Don't want to trade with America? Take, steal. America wins. Don't have food because you're a third world country? We will send massive armies to feed. Here. Pop tarts.

Today in his head will be playing... Noise! With screaming on vocals. Banging on drums. Screeching on guitar. Thumping on bass. Clicking on the maraca.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiing! Time to transfer classes. He gets up walking out of the room. To his locker. Opens locker. Look. Gets French book. Watch out. Closes locker.

"Hey loser," the big tough football player decides to knock all of what he was carrying on the the floor. The steroid, small balls guy then pushes him into the locker. "Get out of my way bitch!"

Fuck off. The dilemma now was: To pick up the mess or not to pick up the mess. That was the question. For his books and stuff was all over the floor, but he couldn't care less. Pick it up. Just do it, but before he could someone else starts to.

"You know you shouldn't let him push you around." The pretty girl speaking to him. Crystal. Neighborhood girl for most of his life 'til she moved last year. One of his only friends. Friends since early childhood. They used to bath together. Back when they were four.

"Yeah right. I rather not get hulk smashed by steroid boy." He is just watching her pick up his stuff. Admiring her. He wants her. But no. She said that he was more like a brother than a lover. Too bad he thought. He could treat her better than any of her boyfriends. Especially her current one. The jerk.

Short skirt. Long legs. Full breasts. Toned stomach. Wide hips. Firm ass. And oh so beautiful face. Light on the eyes. Scattered images of him being with her floods his mind. Her heavy breathing. Moaning. Moaning. Images gone. Too much noise. He goes down to help her. Her scent hits him hard.

"Thanks Crystal." He says it softly.

"Of course, I'll see you later in class." She walks away toward her boyfriend who was heading her way. Stupid jerk. Jerk. Jerk off. The boyfriend gets close to Crystal. Hugs her, feeling up her body. Grabbing her ass. The daddy's rich boy looks right at him. Wanting him to watch as Jerk Off feels up Crystal. She takes her hand and pulls his off her ass. She looks behind to see him watching. There was a small trace of guilt. Like she felt bad that he had to watch that. Embarrassed and humiliated he turns away leaving the two of them to their ass grabbing. Fucking jerk. Jerk. Jerk off.

The noise has faded. Slightly in his mind. Wanting to full break into a lid noise, but the medicine stops it.

Second Period. The exciting, fast paced life of math. Numbers, numbers on the wall. He sat in the back in this class. This teacher was just a bad one. Rarely did the class do anything except busy work. Five pages of math, then the rest of the class is free time. He studies the problems. Answers once he is confident he has the right answer. With the busy work done. He tries to calm down his head. Sorta of a meditation. He can get it so the noise doesn't bother him. It doesn't go away but he is able to not be as bothered by it. Relax. Calm. Sedatives. That's what he really needs. Try to meditate. Take sedatives. Sedatives wear off. Take more. Resume meditation. Not at school though. Once he gets home.

"Hey you're a boy. I have to ask you something." The girl in the front of him. Bothering him. Leave me alone please. I'm trying hard to stay relaxed. "So I like this guy. And I want him to like me. So would you rather have a girl suck your dick or let you stick it in her ass?"

Thoughts of him being with Crystal floods his mind again. Nice thoughts. Thanks slut.

"Hey. What would you like from a girl? Blow job or anal?"

Fucking A. This slut wouldn't leave him alone. Really want to know? Let him fuck your ass then suck him dry. Stupid slut. Whore. Wait. Not a whore. Whores fuck everyone. Sluts fuck everyone but him. He could feel her eyes staring at him. Waiting for an answer. He opens his eyes.

"Look I could really fucking care less about your shallow, slutty, and artificial ways to attract the opposite sex to your meaningless needs. Do me a favor and leave me alone." He closes his eyes. He waits for the: O my God. Your such a ... whatever he is at the moment to her. But it didn't come. Good he thought.

Errrrrrrrrr...Gaaahhhhhhh! Fuck this screaming! Noise, noise, loud constant noise. He raises his hand. He tells the teacher he needs to go to the nurse to take his meds. He gets up looking at the slut girl who just eyes him with a mean look. Don't eye him. Slut girl is just upset that he is right. He is right because she is a slut. Down the hall and to the left. The descending stairs leading him to the nurse. Make a right. Door on the left. Room 203. He goes to the nurse asking for his pills. More medicine. Every four hours. Hurry please. Move fat ass and get the pills in the locked cabinet. Head is going crazy! Blah, noise, thump. The constant noise of a screeching. With its different tones. Slight pauses. She hands him two pills. Chalk. Pop. Water. Gulp. He lies down on the cot beds. Curtains around each one. Killll meeee! Chatter. 20-five minutes. Until the chatter starts to fade again.

The bell rings again. Time to transfer to the cafeteria. He gets up. The random sounds still bothering him. Why? Why me? For what reason? He gets in line for a chicken wrap. It's the only thing that he could enjoy. Everyday. Chicken wrap, water, chocolate chip cookie. He finds a table away from other people to try to enjoy his food. He wants to sleep. Only then will he get peace and quiet. Crystal sits down with him.

"Hey, Sorry about earlier." Crystal was apologizing. What? Why? Oh. Right.

"Yeah, you know he does that on purpose."

"Why would he do that?"

Well, let's see. He knows that we hang out. And it's obvious to everyone except her that the guy you're eating lunch with likes her. And Jerk Off knows that. So what does a jerk off to do? Rub it in his face! He could picture Jerk Off laughing at him. Showing off Crystal. Touching her. Kissing her. Where is a gun when you need one? Himself, not Jerk Off. He doesn't answer. Just continues to eat his food. Maybe silence will get have her realize. She just looks at him. What? Stop. She won't be able to read him enough to understand what he is thinking. He barely knows himself half the time.

"Well anyway, how have you been lately?" She decides to drop it. Good.

"I've been OK I guess."

The two of them engage in small talk. Two 3rds into lunch she notices her boyfriend, Jerk Off. Standing at some table with a couple girls. It would be innocent enough if Jerk Off weren't given a piece of paper. He tries to secretly put it in his pocket without anyone to notice. He knew Crystal was watching him.

"I've been thinking he's cheating on me."

He stops eating his cookie to look at her. Was that a question or a statement.? Assuming it was a question.

"Why do you think that?" He said it in a semi sarcastic way. He looks at Crystal. She is waiting for reassurance that he is not. But he won't give it to her. She is better off without him. This is his chance.

"I've told you before. I could be a better boyfriend." There he said it. He just watches her. Looking for a sign. Just say something. But before she could. Here comes Jerk off to wreck the day!

He sits down. She doesn't even ask about the note. What does that mean? She kind of ignores him. Jerk off tries to make small talk. Asking how they both were. Upset that Jerk Off will ruin the answer.

"I'm trying to eat. Thanks for understanding." He laughs inside. His head chatters laughter. The noise is becoming faded. Crystal puts in a little bashing at Jerk Off too.

"Yeah and another thing, you need to stop groping at me. It's disgusting." With that she gets up and leaves. Jerk Off just watches her walk away, confused, distraught. He looks at Jerk Off and just winks at him. A sudden rush of anger overwhelms him. Anger that wasn't directed to anyone. But just the emotion anger. He never felt anything like that. Jerk Off must have noticed because he also got up and left. Heading towards Crystal. What the fuck was that? The rush subsides. Odd. The chatter in his head is trying to break though that invisible wall of medicine that's stopping it from being louder. The bell rings.

Third period. French. Comment la rime pleurer? Comment puis-chatteur chanter sous le bruit? Gémissements du bruit! Le nerf romains diplômés une égratignure. Pourquoi ne chatteur blesser le récepteur? Comment contrôlera près émotions? Fille pas sur sa faim. Manger merde. Bruit, Bruit, différent.

School... is out... for... the...weekend! He gets out of French. Goes to his locker. The noise is better now. Not so much of it. He puts his books back in the locker. Close. Slam. Now what? The party is tonight? Today is Friday? It was Joe.

"Hey, so you going to go?" He wonders if he takes a stapler hits it against his forehead with a note attached that read: NO! Would that be enough to get him to understand. Fuck parties. He had better things to do. Right? Read, watch TV, sleep, porn. All good choices he guesses.

"Joe, listen carefully...no." I do not like party shows. I could not...Would not. I don't like them in a box. I don't like them with a fox. I don't like them in a house. I don't like them with a mouse. I don't like them here or there. I don't like them anywhere. I do not like party shows. I do no like them Joe blow.

He got outside through the back entrance. The sun beaming down on his skin. It was hot. Very hot. Time to go home. To home. Off to home we go. He just kept walking. Getting closer and closer to home. He needs to be home. To calm down. Relax. Breathe. Noise. Constant, bothering, never leaves noise!

Kill me! Kill me! Please! Dammit, he thought. Why can't it just leave me alone?. He got to his door, opening it quietly. His mother usually takes a nap around this time. Poor mom. Single. Works a lot. Doesn't have much time to herself. Such a good mother. He tries his best to make things easier for her. He gets on with his usual choirs. Garbage, chatter. Dishes, noise. Dusting, screaming. Yelling. His mom comes down the stairs.

"Awe Thanks sweetheart. What are you plans for tonight are you going to..." No! I'm not going to the fucking party. "...go out to Sedona?" Oh. Right. The mall.

"Um yeah. I think that's what I will do. Can I take your car?" That was right he was going to go to Sedona. The drive was nice. He could just stare out into the desert. Driving the windy turns. Listen to soft music. Mozart, or Beethoven. Just him and the car. He likes going to the mall there. It wasn't too crowded but it was nice. He likes the just watching the waterfall that fell in the middle of the mall. Trancing it was.

"Of course you can. Have fun. And here." She went over to him and opens his hands. She places something in his hand then closes his hand. "Don't look at how much. Just take it and get yourself something nice. For your birthday. Its coming up soon and I don't know what to get you." With that she gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back upstairs. To the car.

Once he got in he opens his hand. There laid 400 hundred dollars. Sweet. He puts the music on. Helps calm down the noise. Relax. Relaxing. Drive.

I-17 for a long time. A much long needed drive. The red desert. Greeting him. Accepting him. This was nice he thought. The chatter was there, but he could deal with it. Relax. Drive.

Honk! Fucker. A stupid guy cuts him off. What was the big rush? The chatter starts up. Focus is lost. Lost again. Son of a... He then honks at the car in front of him who just cut him of. Yeah like that? Too bad someone didn't rear end you. He honks again. Beep! Honk! The car ahead didn't like it so much so the guy slams on his brakes.

Five. He notices the red on the brake signals. The tires screeching. Marking the pavement. 4. He cuts the wheel to the left. Onto the left lane. 3. The car ahead is still braking. The guy must be pissed! 2 He gets out of the way of the braking lunatic. Guy in the car still braking. Didn't the guy see he moved? One. Here comes a truck! A satisfying crunch is heard by his ears. The sound of a Ford Focus being smashed by a four-wheel drive, 2 ton, lifted truck. Haha. Serves you right. Poor truck though. Not his fault. Just a few hours gone from Truck's day. But he will be a few 1000 dollars richer because of him. The car is pushed hard to the right of the road. Much damage. Might want to call Allstate. Their logo. "Are you in good hands?"