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neesh
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Yes, I'm a wild child. I always do what I want. I'm always just myself. I came from a rich family, and I used to bring home someone new every night. Dad was always so ashamed! Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Whatever I felt like. I'd pop pills at the dining table and leave syringes in the bathroom. I loved shooting up. The rush, the sheer excitement of it. It felt like fire running through my body, running through my mind.
Some people said that that wasn't really me, that I was just a typical rebellious teen, perhaps a little more deviant than normal, but just going through a phase. They were wrong, of course. I DID like teasing and embarrassing my boring old parents, but this is just who I am. Like a pure wild flame, I don't let anything get in my way. No restraints. No ties.
I left home to hit the world at large. Home was too small for me. I could never returned and be contained in its walls. I had a lot of fun, but nobody could keep up with me. I'd show people how to truly be themselves, how to take control. I'd show them the times of their lives, give them a real passion for living, a real disdain for those losers who waste their lives... then they'd always burn out in the end. The stronger ones lasted months, some weeds died out after a few days. After that they were different. The only thing burning about them then were their cheeks crimson with shame and self-loathing.
They knew they weren't being true to themselves, and still they carried on their humdrum lives. They'd have made me sick but I didn't stick with them. No point staying with that lifeless lot when I could be having fun elsewhere.
Or... so I thought. But it was boring doing it all on my own. I wanted someone to share my fun with, someone who could always be there with me to laugh at the commuters and other fools. I started looking for a partner in crime. I found stronger and stronger people, pushed them harder and harder, and all I found was they were even worse after they cracked. They all cracked eventually.
I got bored and lonely, and did the stupidest thing: I went home. My parents welcomed me back with open arms, and that was fine, but then they tried to close those arms around me. "Why don't you settle down and find someone nice?" mum asked. "Why don't you join the family business?" asked dad. "Why don't you come to church with us?" they asked, and that was the last straw. I am the fire that never stays still and never goes out, and before I left home I left my mark on it.
The police were surprised at how little I cared as the firemen pulled out the charred remains of my parents. "They abused me as a child," I explained. It wasn't true, but I hated my parents, and I wanted the cops to hate them too. "He was probably too drunk to realise he'd left a cigarette lit of the sofa," I suggested, and the police thanked me for my help.
The new phoenix rises from the ashes of the old, and so did I. I moved on.
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060412
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