Pessimistic Coodies (RusAme)

Origins

"Get the fuck out of my house you devious piece of shit!" my drunken father curses at me in Russian. My legs storm me over to the front door. Just as I snatch the car keys from off the counter, I see the table lamp soaring in the air; it comes straight for my head. My quick reflexes gift me the ability to dodge it in time. The lamp shatters against the door and rests on the floor in pieces. My father groans with great irritation and hatred. "Look at what your stupid ass made me do, you have 3 fucking seconds to get the damn broom and clean this mess up!"

I swing the front door open; it sweeps the broken remains across the floor. My throat feels dry but I ensure that our argument ends with me. "All the brooms in the world couldn't fix you or your household!" I slam the door. Beneath the wood, I hear muffled yells. I run to my car, start it up, and I hit the gas.

I let out a sigh of relief while I glide on the smooth concrete road. The setting sun helps me feel at peace. The tension in my house seems heated, however, I regret to inform you that it was a completely regular day. My father isn't the most patient and compassionate person; all it takes is one tiny little thing to offset his entire demeanor. Once he's frustrated, he will reign hell. It wasn't even my fault as to why he was upset. It was the kind of situation of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of my younger siblings had pissed him off. I don't know how or why but I do know it's their faults and honestly, that's all I need to know- I could care less for the story. Not many of them really like or get along with my father. Would you believe me if I told you that I was the one to have the best relationship with him out of all my siblings? He told me that I was his favorite. Sad as it is to say, I don't get along with too many of my siblings either. I wonder if this would be any different if I had a mother in the picture.

Everyone in my family is unlikable; and that includes me too. I wasn't fond of receiving compliments or praises- shit, I barely can recount my friends. I didn't like the loneliness at first when I was a boy, but overtime I grew comfortable to it and it has become my choice.

So you might ask me where exactly I was driving to, and to answer your question: anywhere but my household. I had to get away from the constant screaming and violence for a few hours. I'll return once I am recharged. My mind subconsciously feeds me ideas as I wait at a red light; perhaps I could go to the store and pick up a new table lamp. I'm sure my father would appreciate it deep down inside. He needed all the light he could get in his life.

I turn my car to follow the imaginary route in my head. I pass a few stores along the way before I pull into a parking lot with a strip mall. I didn't like heavily populated areas but this mini mall was usually empty. It was peaceful. The strips of stores were clean and constructed beautifully- they boxed in a fancy water fountain. Within this mini mall, I know there is a good knick-knack store with affordable items. It was bound to contain a simple table lamp.

I swiftly pull my car into a parking space. I power off the engine and tuck the keys away in my pocket. Soon before I know it, I'm walking on the sidewalk to the store. I take in the lovely dimming scenery around me. I wish sunsets were longer, they were my favorite time of day. It's sad that they only last a few minutes.

I am interrupted from my thoughts when a group of 5 teenagers pour out from a clothing store in front of me. I knew these guys- they are enrolled in many of my classes and I am forced to see them at school. Luckily, it's summertime. Their names are Poland, Germany, South Korea, Japan, and America. I'm not going into detail of exactly who they are to me because I barely know them like that. All I know is that they are smart enough to be in my classes and could be vultures. They talk loudly and fill the world with laughter. I grow annoyed at their existence, and yet, anxious. Knowing that I had to walk past them made me worry. Anytime I have to walk past a group of teenagers, I found it intimidating- I don't know why. Usually, I was the one intimidating people. And the ironic thing is that I could take them all on in a fight.