Who I am

An Introduction- Prologue

PROLOGUE.

They weren't lieing when they said, "There's no place like home when you've got nowhere to go."

The cold nostalgia whirled in cirlces around my already too preocupied mind. It was mocking me, taunting me as bitter chills swept by and soft flakes drifted downward to the abused pavement of downtown Cincinnati. Happy Holidays were promised with this kind of weather, the Christmas season ringing it's bright bells and bringing broken families and homes together to pretend that love was really there all along. Really though, it's jolly outer exterior hides the simple fact that at least one sick child is guarenteed to be emitted to the nearest hospital that night. What a sick twisted season it was. Winter was a bitch; a sneaky one, full of empty promises and pain.

Isn't it funny how it never snows on Christmas, but it does the week after? But that's what life is all about, right? Life aint' always fair, aint' always just. It's ok to be upset, it's alright 'cause that's the way things are supposed to be, right? You can be happy, but still live knowing you're doing so by restriction, right? Dissappointment is evident these days, and it don't matter who you are or where you come from; you aint' ever gonna' escape it.

Another puff, one more shot. What's it matter anyway? Life is too damn short to care. After all, "YOLO." Ha. Maybe that was my problem, I stopped caring. Take it from me kids, the street aint' home to nobody, and it don't want anything to do with you.

Then there was shaking, and I couldn't decide if it was from the bitter winter air, the hangover that kept coming back, maybe whatever shit I shot up ealier.... I just wasn't positive. Peering up, I could sight my so called, "Reflection" giving me a look of pure despiration. Who was I? Disgust filled the pit of my stomach as the stranger stood with me as I rose to my feet. He was not I, for I couldn't have let myself go this far. Just a few small steps away from me he stood still and pained. Who did he think he was? Did he know who I was? Hell, did I know who I was? Maybe he could tell me.

Decisions. They're everything in life, therefor I was all in all fucked. You probably laughed, thinking I was trying to get a laugh but, jokes on you; I'm not kidding. However, my decisions weren't always what tore me down. My lack of adventure, want for more; that was my problem.

Strangers. Strangers aren't always as strange as we make them. I mean, aren't we all strangers at first? Matters going along with this label are very dependent on how... strange someone really is.

I believe somewhere along the way, my mind was lost. Yes, I'm implying at some point I became increasingly more insane than the typical suburban teenager is expected to be. Someone would have to be crazy to try, do, say, and feel like me.

Black hair, pale skin, thin figure, tall. It was as if my alter-ego had somehow found a way out of some alternate, fictional storybook and into my life just to conjure up a hell in my structured little world. That boy in the newspaper, the golden boy; he's missing. The question is, how long will he be gone? Better yet, is it possible for him to return? The only thing to identify him by now are those big, gorgeous blue eyes that just never seem to fit.

That boy in the window; he wasn't me. I was the golden boy. Ha. I was. Turning from the reflection, I trudged down the streets once more, maybe to find a quieter alley to sleep in; one away from the slush-covered streets filled with busy people on their way to work. Finally, I found a dark, secluded place to hide in and took a seat right were I truly belonged, by the dumpster. What had I become? I was, "Mr Right," a straight "A" student for christ's sake! In my parents, teachers, and fellow students eyes. I was "the guy."

But then, I changed. I don't know why, I just... did. A couple mistakes build up I guess. A joint or two, a drink... or two... or three... maybe four and here I am, out on my own. My heart was literally beating out of my chest, and that was definitely from the high from my needle which was whearing off quicker than usual.

"Cameron, what is going on with you?" My head sunk at the rememberance of my mother's disapointment.

"Cam, how do you go from stright A's, to B's, to D's in just a couple of months? You're off the basketball team, you're wearing darker clothes, and for heaven's sake you died your blonde hair to a jet black!" It's terrible to wake up and just not give a crap anymore, to not want anything. Out of all emotions, apathy appeared to be the easiest way out. Sorry to disapoint dad, but your boy's dead and gone-and he aint' ever comin' back.

Of course I wanted to cry, but real men just don't do that, so rage became my sanctum, my way of release I guess you could say. Pulling the little money from my jean pockets, I began to count. Numbers came together, one after another bringing my earnings to a whopping sixty bucks. Enough to get something pleasurable, but not anything too extravigant. I attempted to avoid any more thoughts, however they just kept coming. Where was I going to go from here? I lit a cigarette and moved the hair that didn't even look like mine out of my face.

My life was such a letdown. Sixty bucks to my name and no family, friends, not even a highschool diploma to work as a small comfort to the simple fact that I was alone, and not just alone but also lonely. Believe it or not, there's a big difference.

Complaining is useless, for I chose this. It's what I wanted and now I have it. Ain't no time machine 'gonna zap me back to change what I already screwed up.

Sometimes I think it'd be easier if I just didn't wake up at all. That was normal, right? I mean, we all have those days where we think up the most horrifying, impactful, unique death to put ourselves through. Yes, something so gory and messy they'll be cleaning you off the pavement for months. Talk about making a statement.

Wait, that's just me you say? It's alright; I should be used to that by now.

Who was I any more?

A coward.

A loser.

Nothing.

To think, at one point I convinced myself into believing I had a shot in this shitty world.

What a liar you've become, Cameron,

What a liar.

You don't even know who you are.

I need to know, I thrive to know. Ignorance is bliss they say, but it's only made me sick. God hasn't shown me, never set me free. One lie and false hope after another was all I faced myself with then. But, I can't go back now. I'll set myself free. I'll do it myself.

I will find who I am.

I will.

This book; it's my last testiment. If you're reading this, you're about to see a side of the world I don't advise looking into. It's a long story, but I swear it's true.

I'm sure you're thinking, "But you said you've become a liar!" Yeah, I said that. Condescending is my middle name. After all, I wouldn't lie here...it's all I have left.

This is me, my writings, thoughts, and truest feelings. Maybe here I'll find the safety I've always looked for. Really though, I'm hoping this will give me answers.

Welcome to my personal hell.