by t. h. snyder
What the fuck just happened?
“Get yourself together; I’m done with this place. Don’t forget to lock up before you leave.”
With that he walks away, leaving me exposed and completely vulnerable to a mess I should have known better than to create with a man that could never give me what I want…him.
Chapter 3
“Mom,” I pipe out in a nervous tone.
There’s no response, only dead air.
“Hey…umm, it’s Steve. Do you have time to talk?”
Pacing back in forth through my house, the feeling of tension pulses around me. I haven’t spoken to my mom in months, but I feel the need to get this off my chest. I need the comfort of someone I know loved me at one time and as much as I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t have a choice. This may be my only cry for help before it’s too late.
“Steven, you’ve caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know. I needed to talk to you and let you know something.”
“To be very honest with you, son, is there really anything to say? I think your actions over the past few months have been enough to tell me what I never wanted to hear.”
Her tone is dry, no emotion or compassion. I can’t say that I blame her, but I’m still her son. She can’t completely remove that part of me from her, can she?
“Mom, I know things have been bad, I mean really bad since that last time I saw you.” Swallowing hard I try to gain the courage to say what I need.
“Out with this, Steven. I’m about to leave for dinner with friends. Can we talk about this another time?”
A sharp pain stabs me in the chest. This was a bad decision; I should never have reached out to her. I’m just wasting her time…I’m a waste to her.
“Nah it’s fine. I’m sorry for bothering you at all. Good-bye, Mom.”
Looking at the screen of my cellphone, I hit the end button and slam it down on the counter. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking trying to reach out to her, no one and nothing can ease my pain.
Looking around the room, my eyes land on a bottle of Jack Daniels. At least the liquor will help ease the ill feeling I’m going through for a short while.
I’ll figure out the rest another time.
Grabbing it with my left hand, I unscrew the cap with my right. As I tip the bottle back, I allow the burning sensation to coat my lips, tongue, and throat. After a few large gulps, I pull the glass container from my mouth and set it down onto the end table.
A million thoughts of regret filter through my mind and I need the pain to go away. The whiskey isn’t affecting me quickly enough; I need something more…something to make it all disappear. Moving through the living room, I make my way to the bathroom to find my last resort of comfort. Lifting my hand to open the cabinet, my subconscious begins to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. The voices become louder, encouraging me to reach for the bottle of pills. I know I shouldn’t do this, but right now I need to make it all go away.
Prying open the bottle, I dump the pills into my hand and toss them onto my tongue. In need of something to chase these down with, I stumble my way back out to the living room to my bottle of recovery. As I take in a long swig, I swallow the half dozen or more pills of Oxycodone.
In hopes that the pills and alcohol will quickly cleanse my senses, I fall back onto the couch and let it all sink in.
I’m alone…
Jenn has left me and my family has forgotten me.
I have nothing…
The room starts to darken, a haze setting over me as my limbs begin to tingle feeling almost numb. Not able to keep my eyes open for another second, I allow them to shut and fall into the darkness… all I can see are her hazel eyes.
I’m abruptly awoken from a disaster of a dream as my body falls into a prone position…what the fuck?
My heart is racing, a light trail of sweat falling down the side of my face. That dream…that night was the absolute worse night of my life. I took things too far and almost lost my life because of the pain I couldn’t stand to bear any longer.
Willing myself to rid my mind of the memories, I try to concentrate on the here and now. With sleepy eyes, I attempt to center my thoughts on the figure now standing before me. I wipe my face with my palms and lift myself back up so that I can see more clearly.
Looking down to the ground, I blink a few times while my vision starts to come back into focus. From the floor, I see a black boots covered by a pair of faded blue jeans. As my eyes scan upward I see hands covered in ink. A hundred dollar bill symbolizing greed covers one while a skull designed through the tree of life and the numbers 1-9-8-2 covers the other. There’s no doubt in my mind who this ink belongs to…fucking Cliff.
“What’s up, dipshit?” He shouts, his voice booming through the small room.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” I ask as my eyes refrain from looking into his.
Moving to stand and turn away from him, he claps his hand on my shoulder. Cliff and I might as well have been long lost brothers; he’s the guy that found me all those years ago. But one thing you never do is make eye contact with the man. He’s always had a way with chicks because of the icy blue color, but little do they know it’s like looking into the sea of the devil. No matter if you are a man or a woman, once you look at him dead on, it’s as though he’s sucking the life out of your soul.
“This is my shop, too. I have a key,” he clips out in a sarcastic tone.
He’s fucking right, but still there’s no reason for him to even be in here. The shop’s been closed for months. I hate this guy, just as I’m repulsed by my other crew members. He has no reason to be here other than to piss me off.
“What do you want, Cliff?” I ask in a harsh tone.
“I heard Ashley found you here last night, so I thought I’d come by.”
Shrugging his hand from my arm, I step toward the sink in the corner of the room. I can hear him shuffling around the room and adjusting the table back to an upright position. As I turn on the faucet, I look into the mirror to see a dead tired, lifeless man staring back at me. Unable to bear the sight of my own reflection, I focus on the water falling into my hands. Needing to snap out of it and wake up, I splash cold water onto my face and reach for a paper towel.
“So tell me, have you moved into Cursed Magic for good or is this just your hiding place?”
Releasing a breath of air, I turn off the water and look toward him.
“I’m here because this is my shop. It’s my fucking home away from home and the one place I am able to go to for some peace and quiet.”
Shaking his head, he slams his hand down onto the soft leather of the chair.
“You’re fucking up, man, big time. No one wants to watch you go down like the worthless wreck of a man you used to be. We all have shit to deal with and believe me, I want to be back in here with my brothers as much as you do.”
Taking a step forward, my hands clench into fists along my side. He has no right, no reason, and no clue to fucking be here. No one can say they know how I’m feeling. It’s not their fault that this is happening, it’s mine.
“Get the fuck out, Cliff. I was fine by myself without y’all meddling in my business.”
“Steve, seriously, Ashley told me what happened last night. How…no, why would you push her away? All she wants to do is help you. She fucking loves you and, for the life of me, I don’t know why she doesn’t just move on…I know for a fact that it’s not the size of your dick that’s keeping her around.”
My head tips up glaring at him. If only he knew that she is everything to me. I let her walk out of my life once before and now I’ve pushed her away again.
“Fuck off, Cliff! You don’t know shit about me, Ashley or the size of my cock.”
Turning toward the opposite wall, I bunch the torn paper towel in my hand and toss it into the trash. The sound of his boots echoes through the tense air, hi
s arm brushing up alongside of mine as he moves past me.
“This is the last attempt that any of us are making to reach out to you, Steve. We’ve given up hope and you’re the only one that can show us different. The crew needs you to get back to the guy we know and love. Don’t be the guy you were when I first found you. You have a choice to make and, as your friend, I suggest you reevaluate your priorities.”
Dumfounded by the harsh words of my best friend, I feel like a complete waste. Not only have I disappointed myself but those closest to me as well. He’s right, he did find me that night. If not for him I might not even be here right now, instead I’d be dead…no use to anyone.
Watching as he walks out of the room and down the hallway, guilt fills me. I know I don’t want to be the man I once was, I just don’t know how I can fight the way I’m feeling. I’ve fallen into a pit of depression. I’ve hurt everyone around me and I’ve lost everything that, at one time or another, meant so much to me.
“Cliff, wait,” I call after him.
Turning on his heels, his figure casts a shadow throughout the dimly lit hallway.
“I need help and I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
My chest aches and tears threaten my eyes.
I’ve found myself in yet another mess with no way out. If I want to stop all of this before I spiral out of control, I need to make a decision and quick. I can’t let what happened so many years ago happen again. I swore to myself I wouldn’t and now here I am putting myself through the same hell because of my demons.
Taking a few steps toward me, he stops with his hand extended out to mine.
“We’ve been through a lot. No matter how many times we fall, we’ll always be there to pick up one another. Never forget that, Steve. We’re a team and all you needed to do was ask for help. Linc and Jo should be back in town within the next few days. I’ll talk to him and see if we can all meet up here later this week to talk things through. In the meantime, I suggest you do some soul searching and make sure the decisions you make are ones that will move you in the right direction.”
Lifting my hand to meet his, I shake the hand of my friend, my brother, and someone that will help me find my way back to where I need to be.
Reaching his arm around my back, he slaps me hard and pulls away.
“I’ll be in touch. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Make wise choices my friend; we’ll get through this together.”
As he turns and walks through the shop, I let out a heavy sigh. I want to feel hopeful that my past won’t come back to haunt me, but he’s right. I have a choice to make and if I continue down this road things will only get worse.
Chapter 4
Sitting upon my bed, I stare at the suitcase packed and ready to go next to my bedroom door.
Should I stay, or should I go?
I never thought this would be an option; leaving Cleveland was it for me. Going back was never something I thought I’d be contemplating, especially as my place of rescue.
Leaving all those years ago was of my own choice. My parents begged me to stay, but I thought I could give it the old college try and make it on my own, away from everyone I knew and loved. Being accepted to a college so far from home was an adventure, it was exciting for me. I was determined to succeed, even when others thought I would fail. Friends and family tried to be supportive, when all I wanted was to prove them wrong.
Classes were a breeze and I found a new passion that I never knew I was capable of achieving. Art was a form of expression that allowed me to share my inner thoughts without saying a word. All I needed was a pencil and paper, and before I knew it a beautiful creation was sitting in front of me. I was able to capture objects in a way that no one else saw. I had a gift and I wanted to explore it as much as I could.
Moving into the dorms, I found life was very different than that of the sheltered life I lived with Mom and Dad. I was able to come and go as I pleased, stay out late, and party it up until dawn. I fell in love with a freedom I never knew existed. Before the end of freshman year, I found myself spending all my time with someone that made me feel things I never experienced.
He was a few years older; he was smart, funny and driven. He introduced me to a life that led me to where I am right now. Our first few dates were nothing unusual, dinner and a movie, a walk through the campus, or a quiet night just the two of us. Before long, my heart found a place to crash…him.
After a few weeks, he took me to a place I never expected. I didn’t know what to anticipate at first; all I knew was that he wanted to show me where he worked. When I walked in the back doors, my heart was racing. Anticipation and anxiety was coursing through my veins every step of the way as he led me through the dark hallway. As he flipped on the lights, my jaw dropped to the floor. Never in my wildest dreams would I think he worked in a tattoo parlor.
He took me into the room where he was inspired and created works of art. The walls were filled with his talent, drawings he created and marked on the blank canvases of his clients. I was in awe of him and falling harder in love with a man that wanted to share his world with me. He told me the story of how he found the shop, became close with the owner, Cricket, and started working there shortly after high school.
The ink that ran up and down his arms was always mesmerizing to me; I just didn’t realize that he, himself, was an artist of such beauty.
Continuing to stare down at my arm, I touch the spot where my first tattoo, our initials AL & SZ, were marked into my skin by him.
He was truly the love of my life, the first man that stole my heart or so I thought. He showed me a world of art that I didn’t know was possible. The very first time I held an ink machine in my hand, he helped to guide me with each trace of the needle over the stenciled drawing. I felt at ease through the vibrations of the machine, I was one with my art and the skin I was marking.
After a while, I started to skip my classes wanting to sit at the shop and watch the artists at work. When Cricket asked me if I want to give it a go on my own I was shocked. This was something I never saw coming, yet, they all saw potential in my craft. With anxiety and fear, I accepted his request and started to become a fearless lady. Men and woman came into the shop wanting something special etched onto their bodies and I was able to do that for them…it was a dream come true.
I never knew I could feel so at peace…until it all came to an end. A few months after that first tattoo was etched into my skin, he and I parted ways.
Not because we fell out love with each other, no it was much more. I found out he was falling in love with my best friend Jenn...or so I thought. Honestly, I didn’t see it coming. He was so good to me, to us. We became a vicious love triangle that was inseparable. When I couldn’t bear to watch the way he’d look at her when she was near, I needed to come clean. Telling him what I was seeing with my own two eyes was one of the hardest things I had ever done. He, of course, denied it, said it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t live feeling the way I did when the three of us were together. I loved him with every fiber of my being; I just couldn’t give him what I assumed she could.
After a long night of talking amongst the three of us, I decided to leave.
I didn’t see him again after that night.
Then…years later, he walked into Duke’s with a few of his friends. Seeing him again was like a dream. Nothing about his appearance had changed over the years; he was still a vision to me.
I didn’t know what to think, do, or say. It had been so long, that I figured he would have forgotten me. I tried so hard to distance myself from him. I avoided everywhere we had ever gone, moved to the other side of town, and blocked his number from my phone. I knew I’d always love him for the things he taught me. The skills and talent of my art will never fade. I know deep down I am a true artist with a skill that one day will be etched on the skin of others.
It’s crazy how life comes around full circle, everything does indeed happen for a reason. Even if we don’t know the reason at the time,
it hits us when we least expect. Little did I know that same shop he worked in would become my second home years later. I knew that tattoo parlor was something special, but never expected Cursed Magic and Steve to become a part of my life once again.
Now here I sit, in that same apartment I moved into all those years ago, looking at the ink he and I created on my skin.
A single tear falls from my eye and I’m not certain if it’s for me or the fact that I know I love Steve more than I could ever love another man. In more ways than one, I thought he was it for me…psh, how wrong I was, once again.
Maybe I’ll never find a true love.
Maybe I’ll always be alone.
Maybe I need to realize that I’m all I’ll ever really need.
I have a choice to make and a bus ticket in my hand. No matter how much I want to stay and make things right, I just don’t know if it’s worth the hurt I feel when I’m with him.
After leaving him in the shop last night, I prayed for the strength to feel less…to feel nothing for the man I want in my life…to feel strong enough to walk away with my head held high.
No luck, he’s all I’ve ever wanted yet the one thing I know I’ll never be able to fix.
How pathetic am I? I mean really…I’m a twenty-six year old college drop out that knows how to create masterpieces of art, but too afraid to step off the ledge and just do it.
All my life I’ve stood in the shadows of others in hopes that one day someone would catch me in the act and will me to break out of my shell. I’m a mess of a woman that lacks the confidence in my own talent. If any of the other Cursed Crew guys knew what I’m capable of I’m afraid that they’ll…oh hell, I don’t even know what they’ll think.
Looking down at my arms, I touch my colorful skin with my fingertips. The skeletal design, the intricate rose petals and the letters to the one word that always could pick me up when I would fall… I-N-S-P-I-R-E. All of this art was done by a woman that now is too afraid to stand up for what she’s always believed…me.