I was good. I was an author of three best-sellers and I got a bigger paycheck every now and then. I had everything work out for me. Nothing got in my way when I wanted something. I wondered why I never had enough, I always wanted something next. One day I watched a new type of movie I’m not used to enjoying, but after it I felt extremely lonely. Because I realized how life could be like shared with a person or a family. Damn it, I could’ve just watched another mass murder movie!
For the next few months I passed the highest state of loneliness, in fact I invented a higher level. I started talking to myself in two person dialog. I kept imagining these was someone in the room with me ( which might sound scary now, but it wasn’t then). I didn’t notice how that affected me. Most importantly, it affected my job in a very negative way. I really couldn’t think outside my cage. And so one day after a long talk with my publisher, I decided to do something about it.
First of all, I decided to go out more and talk to people more often. I needed to work on keeping touch with “friends”. I also decided to work harder to get more money. i set up my mind on getting rich, really rich.
But the problem with this decision was that the purpose of it was to get someone in my life. I was ready to let someone use me for the money I had. I was ok with it, because a part of me decided that if I got bored of angry ill just get rid of that person. I can always do that because I owned the money. You see, I planned the storyline of my life, but my life didn’t necessarily go on that straight line. Life does that sometimes.
Six months later I got to the financial level I wanted. I was rich, known and bored. And so I tried things I never thought I’ll have the chance to. I took lessons in everything, like sign language, boxing and computer security (included hacking). I was interested in many unfriendly things I’d never mention to the people I called “friends”. i thought I had my life together because I thought I was being social. But instead of getting used by someone for my money and fame, I got stalked, had my security system tarred apart then got robbed.
When I remember it I feel it happen fast, but I know it was the slowest three hours of my life. I truly thought ill never survive them. At 3 am on a Thursday, I was up late doing nothing. I enjoyed doing nothing. I actually thought I was asleep, but I was wide awake. I heard the security alarm go off and my first thought was ; how come they were so stupid to literally break my door when they obviously want to get away with it.
But they weren’t stupid, they knew what they were doing. They knew the layout of my apartment, they knew where my safe was. But they didn’t know what was in it. I hid under a desk, the one place so far from my gun I was scared. I didn’t think, I just watched. I knew they thought I wasn’t home because I knew they had ears that heard me talking lies on the phone. i lied to a friend about going out of town. I’m not that great at keeping friends.
I saw their faces. I memorized their features. i tried not to let them know I was there but they kept walking closer to me. Although I took classes on everything, I froze when one of them looked right into my eyes. he reacted faster, so I kept throwing things at him to get rid of his gun, which was scaring the life out of me. When he was knocked down I ran. I felt like I was a stranger to my own place.
I don’t know what I expected, what I had thought, but I was prepared. I had an emergency bag full of things I’d need and I just held my cat and put him in the bag. I ran off.
My name is Xavier, and I had nowhere to go.
i knew a lot of things, almost everything really, but I had no clue why what happened next happened. But it happened after I ran away. I didn’t lose any money, because my safe was empty. I hid my money in my emergency bag. I guess that was my smartest move. My dumbest move was not leaving the cat somewhere.
I walked as far as I could, and skipped as many hotels as I could. When I felt like I was going to pass out, I turned left and got myself a room in the first hotel I saw. I walked far enough, the hotel was almost out of the city. I laid on the bed after telling them not to disturb me, and I started studying the situation. Three or four armed men broke into my apartment and tried to kill me. They knew who I was and where I was. I remembered what two of them looked like. One was redheaded and had a long face and nose. The other one was short, black and had a shotgun. I decided I had the upper hand here, because I could easily go to the police. That way it’ll all end faster.
This thought was presented in my head as a solution for only a few minutes. I forgot it when the hotel room turned to a warzone. There was a knock on the door after I asked not to be disturbed. “room service!” I didn’t know who that was but I was certain they weren’t room service. As I tried to walk slowly and make no noise the bastard threw his body on the door and it busted open. He was the redhead from before. And he wasn’t happy.
I didn’t get time to make myself at home and spread my things around, so I simply grabbed the bag and jumped out the window. I know that last one seemed too easily done, but it wasn’t. I felts my breath get dragged out of my lungs as I accepted the thought of death, but thank god for trash bins.
The landing bruised me but I didn’t feel the pain until the thrill of the chase was gone. But my cat jumped out of the bag in terror. I hesitated, but there was no time for that. I left my only supporter in a dumpster. I amaze myself.
I ended up sitting next to a homeless man on the side of the street. He didn’t ask much about my injured face but he talked to me. I was afraid he’d want to kill me. It was simply a pointless fear I had. I guess that’s the result of the things I’ve seen and done. His name was Joe. That made me suggest that everybody on the street looks like a Joe. He was a vet, but he lost his job and his home. Joe had a son named Frank. Frank didn’t know he had a dad. Joe was nice to me. He looked like he can see my thoughts. Joe had nothing more than the clothes on his back. I had money but was homeless. After a long talk on the cold streets, he got up to look for a place to spend the night. I followed.
The reason Joe lost his job is because he lost his mind. I became his friend. I felt bad for him because he was as lonely as I was. He never asked for much, though he liked to talk. We went through the next few months moving from one motel to another. Until one night, Joe called me Frank.
I figured if I had company, Family maybe. It’d be a bit harder to find me. I was right. Joe and I took an old apartment. It was the size of one room. We had nothing. The place was dirty and deserted. Nobody looked through the door for years. Joe didn’t complain. He never asks for help. As for me, I kept the money safe and barely used it, somehow I knew I’d need it more ,now that I have Joe to take care of too.
It only took a few days for the apartment to start feeling like home. I started getting shorter breaths whenever I go out. I stopped talking to people on my way. And I only went out when I really needed to. The neighborhood was dark, dirty, and scary. There were lot of stray dogs and cats around. Two weeks here and we already got ourselves two dogs and a kitten. Joe kept changing his mind whenever he tried to name them. I didn’t pay much attention to pets unless they needed something.
Our situation got calmer. And our attention relaxed. Nothing happened for months, and we got used to the lives we made. Joe enjoyed cooking. It didn’t always taste as good but I’d eat it anyway. We didn’t have much but we had enough, and that made me feel happy. I never thought I’d feel happy in the state that I was in, it was even more shocking that, apparently, I wasn’t happy before the robbery.
“I’ll have that pie in the poster, please!” pointed Joe ordering breakfast at a café one morning. Did I mention how nice this old man is? I should’ve. You’d imagine the man walking on rainbows and I wouldn’t disagree. Nothing bothers him or gets on his nerves. His pure kindness makes me look mean even before I start talking. We sat down on the corner table.
“so I tried to find a job near by but they keep asking for personal information and I can’t seem to want to give it to them” I started off the conversation after Joe’s pie arrived.
“well, son! That’s how jobs work! They won’t hire a .. what are you again?” Joe mostly focused on the pie, not lifting his eyes from it. I don’t always need him to respond or listen, I simply don’t want to attract attention if I talk to myself.