Achieving Serenity

Give Me My Fucking Keys

Resentments

She dropped her little brother off at home after picking him up from school and noticed that ol' Randy was at it again across the street, yelling at his sister about God knows what. She sympathized for Hannah as she sped off to her dentist appointment. So much to do today.

As her SUV sped off and away from sight, Hunter walked toward his front door, no longer thinking about second-grade math but instead listening in on the commotion from the neighbors across the street. There was obviously a fight of some sort going on, and Hunter couldn't wait to get inside and peek out the front window to spy on them.

But the front door was locked...

He rang the doorbell indignantly and glanced over at the yelling. He saw Randy yelling at Hannah; and could clearly hear what the grown-ups were saying: "Give me my EFFING keys!" as he chased his sister around in a circle playing some twisted version of Ring-A-Round-The-Rosy. Suddenly, Hunter's eyes grew to a horrified bulge as he saw Hannah heading toward his house! He frantically rang the doorbell as many times as he could, but sure enough, Randy the monster was chasing after Hannah, and would soon be on his patio alongside him. Hunter dropped to a fetal position, choosing FREEZE in his fight-or-flight response, and prayed that his parents would open the door any second now.

The footsteps from across the street grew nearer and nearer and the cries and cursing grew louder. Hunter sucked his thumb and covered his head and ears, and pictured the front door bursting open and for mommy to pick him up and rescue him. He took a deep breath as Randy and Hannah were now right in front of him on the patio. He heard them try to open the locked front door, but to Hunter's surprise, he didn't feel any pain; there wasn't any severe beating like he was expecting. He then heard footsteps scurry away and poked his head up to see what was going on, and his heart pounded through his chest as he laid eyes on the monster up close: A mid-twenties, backward-hat wearing drunken man looked right through Hunter's soul, and then he turned around to continue pursuing his sister.

As the man disappeared behind their patio wall, Hunter rose to his feet and saw Randy wrestling Hannah on the front lawn across the street. After minutes of struggle, Randy finally let her go and marched toward his truck parked in front of the house and stepped in the driver's seat. He turned over the engine and skirted off, taking an unnecessary detour across the street through Hunter's front lawn. The truck made obnoxious tracks across the grass as it sped off and disappeared from sight in a similar fashion that Hunter's sister did. Hunter's parents finally come home and Randy ends up getting caught by police and is arrested in front of the house as little Hunter spied through the front window.

Twenty years later, Hunter is spending the night over at his parent's house during the holiday season when he notices Randy's familiar truck parked across the street. He remembers the day of terror and scoffs at the truck, stink-eying it as fantasizes revenge on the scumbag. He decides it's an obvious choice: tonight he will slash the tires of ol' Randy's truck.

Hunter has gained quite the troublesome reputation over the years and displays many sociopathic tendencies. It appeared he had taken a bit of his grandfather's alcoholism, and would often lash out in aggressive cries for help. As a result, a boundary has been established between his parents and him, and he has to turn in his keys when he spends the night, so as to avoid him getting another DUI. This doesn't stop him from sneaking over to a nearby convenience store on a bicycle in the late night to purchase a bottle of Jack Daniels to complement his upcoming night of mischief. He thought it was just a compliment, but the booze was mostly to give him the strength to actually do it. He doesn't think he has the balls to do it soberly, and so the bottle of Jack seems like a no-brainer. It was around 2 in the morning when he began downing shots in preparation for the task at hand. He fishes out an old pocket knife from one his drawers and flips it open, gently caressing the blade and smelling the sweet dish of revenge that he was cooking up, then flicked the pocket knife closed.

It was around 2 am when he finally made his move across the street in his all black gear, and Hunter cursed that the truck was parked directly underneath a street light. He has seen his quiet neighborhood at this hour, however, and felt he was safe to approach the vehicle. He flicked open his pocket knife once again, and grasped it firmly with the blade facing down, and gave the tire a vigorous jab. The rubber wouldn't give. He attempted two or three more stabs before realizing this tire was freshly pressurized, and he didn't appear to have the strength to slash it. He tried a couple more attempts and then stared at the tire in defeat.

It seemed Hunter was going to give up but instead pulled his phone out of his black sweatpants and activated its flashlight feature, aiming the beam at the tire. He found the air valve and used the pocketknife to begin deflating the tire. Once it was completely free of air, he moved on to the rear tire, out of eyesight from anyone inside Randy's house but completely visible to anyone on the outwardly insensible street. Once the second rim kissed the gravel, Hunter loomed over to the remaining two tires on the other side of the truck, understanding the time crunch he was in, as all it would take for him to be caught now was anyone inside the Watson home getting a late-night snack or beverage. For all he knew, Randy himself was sleeping in the living room right now and only had to sit up to discover that his property was in the process of being tampered with.

Just as the third tire completed deflation, Hunter experienced an instantaneous flashback of his second-grade trauma with Randy, when he heard the harrowing creak of the Watson home front door burst ajar. Even being wasted from the Jack Daniels, Hunter understood this ignominious circumstance that he had placed himself in. The all too familiar yell from behind him rang out, disturbing the noiseless night: "Get the fuck away from my truck, bitch!"

Hunter glanced over his shoulder to see Randy charging him. Instinctively, he dropped the pocketknife, hugged his arms and froze, awaiting whatever deserving beating was coming his way.

Randy was ready to beat the living shit out of whoever was fucking with his truck, but stopped in his tracks when he recognized the assailant.

"Hunter? Is that you? What the fuck are you doing, man?" he asked indignantly.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he stammered. He didn't even want to explain the petty resentment he had; what did it matter now? "I don't know. I... I just... I just don't know," was all he could muster to the monster.

"You know I have the call the cops, right? You deflated my tires, bro."

"Please don't! I'm so sorry; I don't know what I was thinking. I'll get them fixed for you," Hunter begged.

"Not going to happen, little man. You can stay put or not, either way, I'm calling the cops," Randy replied as he headed calmly back toward his house, excited to look out the window to see just what Hunter decides to do next.

Hunter panics and does what he always does when he panics- cries to his parents. Of course, he had to wake them up given the odd hour of the night, and Hunter wants nothing more at this moment than to just run away. He quickly slurs out a quick spiel about his current situation and requests his car keys so he can avoid getting arrested. His parents don't need the loud smell of his breath to confirm his drunkenness, as his behavior completely parallels how he acts when he is under the influence. The request turns into a demand as Hunter is desperate to run away, and only sixty seconds after waking his parents up, Hunter finds himself raising his voice to his sleepy parents, screaming the words: "Give me my fucking keys!"

After a short wrestling session with his father, Hunter retrieves the keys and storms out of the home and ran into his Toyota Camry. Realizing he's probably fucked anyway, Hunter speeds his car through Randy's lawn before screeching off, just to make the revenge complete. A police cruiser catches him doing the entire thing as he is nearing the location. Hunter is arrested and slammed with a second DUI, in addition to disorderly conduct and vandalism.

During his years incarcerated, Hunter enjoys his newfound sobriety and begins to see clearly his wicked ways of thinking. When he is released, he checks himself into a halfway home and continues going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings with his sponsor. He realizes that instead of learning from the traumatic event with Randy and talking about it with others, he buried it and held a grudge against his perpetrator. He came clean with Randy about his resentment, and offered an amendment and apologized for his immature actions. Randy, not even realizing the harm he had caused, offered a similar apology and the two became close friends, both striving members of the NA program. When Hunter was able to not victimize himself and forgive those he felt did him wrong, he was able to see a brand new way of living.