In your head (freewrite)

honeydue (68)in #freewrite • 6 years ago

I yell at you but you don't hear me over your loud music. Loud, loud, loud, like termites running through your empty heads. Nobody listens to me, and you're glad, at the end of the day, you congratulate yourselves for holding your own, for not talking to the loony, for pretending the voice in your ear was too loud for you to hear me when I said 'hi', when I screamed.
Nobody hears me here. But it doesn't matter. One day, your devices will stop working and then, you will have no excuse not to listen to me. Oh don't worry, I know you won't listen to me then either, it's not in your nature to be kind, but then, you will have to admit it to yourselves and you will have to face the fact that you are not good people.
I wave to the boy at the bus stop from across the street. I make my way towards him and I watch as he scuttles around, as he backs away and wishes the wall would open up and swallow him whole. He glances – nervous – to the side, to see if the bus is coming, but he is not in luck. There is nothing on the horizon, which means he will have to say hello to me, at the very least. He seems to have no electronical devices on him. Nothing can save him now. The boy seems to be no more than seventeen and I remember him as a small boy – he's lived here all his life and all his life, he's treated me with some semblance of kindness. Not too much, because how much can you show to the neighborhood idiot? He wouldn't want his friends to laugh at him and so, he avoids me when he's with them, but that's alright, I understand. I can imagine what it's like to have friends. He's usually nice to me when he's all alone and so, I forgive him.
Only this time, it's a bit harder to forget. As I wait for the light to change, so I can cross the street (my mother always warned me about looking both ways when I cross the street and that's one of the things I never forget).

The last time the loony saw him, the boy wasn't all that kind to him. He couldn't tell you why he did it, not really, but I guess he'd come up with all sorts of explanations and they wouldn't be misplaced. He'd blame it on the other boys, on Reggie Rogan, who sometimes bullies him. He'd blame Reggie for taunting him, for pushing him, and he would be right. It's never completely our fault, but when the time comes to strike, we strike alone.
And so it was that on the last time they saw each other, the boy was mean and acted out of turn. The boys he hung out with – mainly Reggie's friends – liked to taunt the loony almost as much as they liked to taunt the boy. They would spit on him, whenever they found him wandering the streets. Reggie would sometimes even kick him, you know, grab the loony by his shoulders and throw him down on the ground. And they would call the loony names and scream bad things at him and sometimes, the loony would cry and scream and beg them not to hurt him anymore. But the boys are deaf to him, just like everybody else is. They ignore his cries and his pleas and only stomp down harder.
'Come on, pussy,' Reggie laughed, but there was something threatening in his voice, something that could cut you if you came too close.
'Reggie,' the boy pleaded, but Reggie cut him off.
'What? You 'tecting your little boyfriend here? I seen the way you look at him, Ralphy, what you think you're too good for this, don't you?'
And then and there, Reggie, self-proclaimed class bully and neighborhood monster, spoke the precise truth. For the boy, who was sometimes called Ralphy, thought of Reggie and his mates as little more than apes.
'Come on, Ralphy, stomp 'im!' Reggie cried and his minions eagerly took up the chant. Stomp, stomp, stomp.
And then Ralphy, not looking down at the loony's tear-streaked face, brought his foot down as hard as he could.

See what I did there? I pretended to be the storyteller, just now, although I'm not. It's just me, the same ole loony, I know what you think about me, you think I got a puzzle in my head that I can't quite solve and you like to hurt me because you think you've got yours so figured out. But you don't, you've all got puzzles in your head and I'm the only one who understands them. And I scream at you and I try to tell you how to fix them and you don't listen.
Nobody listens to the neighborhood loony.