Achieving Serenity

Macro Solutions

Moving forward

As Brandon worked on designing a web page for work, he noticed that the number of images he received from the customer exceeded the number of images allowed in their purchased package. There were twelve images too many which would cost the customer around $40 if they wanted to use them all. In the past, Brandon has tried taking it upon himself to add free upgrades without charging the customer. It always ends up getting sent back to him during the projects final revisions check.

He felt like it was robbery and didn't want to bother a customer just to charge them money. Though it was against policy, Brandon would try superimposing some images together using Photoshop in an effort to save the customer money. But lately, it seemed like his supervisors were on to his timid ways and were more carefully watching his decisions. Brandon didn't understand why he was so afraid to call the customer but decided it was either the customer was going to be mad at him, or his boss would be.

He dialed up the number and was met with a friendly, "Hello?" after the first ring.

"Hi Rob, it's Brandon over at Macro Solutions, how are you doing today?"

"Hey, Brandon! Always great! How are you doing, buddy?" the cheerful man replied into the phone.

"I'm great as well, thanks for asking! I'm just calling because I was putting together your website and noticed you sent me sixty-two images, which is twelve more images allowed in the package you purchased. We got a number of options here.

The first option is I can choose the best fifty images, and once we turn the site back over to you, you will be able to add the remaining twelve images for free. The second option is..."

"You can just charge me, no problem! I want to use them all," Rob said.

"Okay looks like the total would be $38.33, is it alright if I get you over to Finances so we can charge your card? It won't take more than a minute," I said to the man nervously, feeling like a burden on his day.

"Yeah sounds good to me!! Thanks for calling, Brandon, I really appreciate it!"

"Thank you! I'll transfer you now," I told the nice man before transferring him over.

Brandon thought about how often his paranoia and overthinking would cause him to procrastinate or freeze altogether. He had negative subconscious thinking that made him believe he could read minds. Brandon thought that he knew what did and didn't bother people, and would behave accordingly.

That night when Brandon arrived back at his parent's house, he took notice of the towering tree in the front lawn. He remembers when he was just a young boy and that tree was first growing. Little Brandon had used a pocket-knife to carve his name into the trunk, or at least attempted to. He had goofed and started spelling it wrong, then proceeded to make a poorly crafted design. When all was said and done, Brandon realized he could get in trouble from his parents. He was scared of having ruined their tree, making such an ugly mark in it.

His parents were mad at him, but not for ruining the tree. They were mad at him for using a knife without an adult around, leaving Brandon confused as to why they didn't pay any mind to the tree's unpleasant mark.

Tonight, having returned home from work on a Friday night, he looked up and saw the design on the tree. It was such a tiny part of the enormous and attractive tree. One could only notice the design if they were looking for it.

He began unwinding, waiting to hear from one of his friends about where the party was going to be at tonight. There's nothing Brandon enjoyed more than the feeling of having just completed a week's worth of work, and now having the entire weekend at grasp. An hour after leaving work, Brandon was at a restaurant with Sandy, a girl he was crushing on. They ate and drank, pre-gaming before they were to meet the rest of the friends at another bar.

While on the road to this bar, Brandon is slightly tipsy and peers into his rear-view mirror, noting a black sedan tailgating an uncomfortable distance behind him. He activates the cruise-control and continues gliding along the boulevard going a safe 5mph over the limit. It didn't even phase him when he saw the red and blue lights coming from the car.

"Oh shit!" Sandy replied, beginning to panic. "You're going to get another DUI!"

Brandon chuckled. "Just relax, I'm not even drunk," he said as he turned left out of the main road and pulled into a church parking lot. The undercover police officer followed behind, parked and waited a brief moment before approaching Brandon's window.

Brandon felt calm and confident, keeping his hands at 10 and 2 as the officer tapped a knuckle against the closed driver window. Brandon slowly rolled it down, to which the cop said, "License and registration?"

"Yes sir," Brandon responded as he reached over to the glove compartment.

"Where you headed tonight?" the officer asked.

"Just going down to Brandy's to meet some friends," Brandon mentioned as he handed the cop an envelope.

"Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"I had a beer at the restaurant, but that's it."

"Why don't you step out of the vehicle and we can talk?"

Brandon unbuckled his seatbelt and cooperated, still feeling as if there was nothing to worry about. Sandy was holding all the rational fear that Brandon should have had.

"Why did you pull me over?" I asked.

"You were swerving, I'm going to have you walk a straight line, okay?" the officer explained.

After performing what he thought was an ace demonstration, the cop said those dreaded words.

"Alright, sir. Go ahead and put your hands behind your back. I'm placing you under arrest."

Brandon continued to instinctually cooperate, still certain that he would be let free any moment. His brain was not allowing him to process his reality.

He sat in the back of the cruiser as the cop questioned Sandy. Any minute now he would be returning and would decide that he doesn't need to give Brandon his second DUI. He will let him go and will have the car towed.

An hour goes by, and Brandon finds himself at the police station using their phone to call for a ride home. He considers calling his parents but decides to call Sandy instead.

Sandy tells him she will come to pick him up, and thirty minutes later arrives at the police station in the passenger seat of her boyfriend's car. Brandon enters the backseat as he recounts his experience with his crush and her boyfriend. At one point Brandon asks aloud, "Where can I buy a gun and bullets? I have to kill myself."

They dropped him off at his house and Brandon couldn't believe Sandy was going to leave him all alone on a night like this. It was late and he was still drunk and needed to tell his parents.

His mom woke up once he got home as she usually did. She could immediately tell something was wrong as Brandon sat in the living room with his head in his hands. Once they started talking, Brandon started crying.

"I want to die. I can't go through this again. I don't what to go through whatever they're going to do to me. I'm scared. I want to die," Brandon confided in his mother. She went over and hugged him, sitting right next to her son in his bottoming moment.

"It's going to be okay, honey. I promise you- you will get through it," his mother said.

"I can't go through it again! I want to die!!"

"Brandon, don't you remember that mark you made on the tree all those years ago?"

Brandon found it coincidentally odd that he had just been reminiscing on this memory. "Yeah, of course," he said, in the most calming voice of the night.

"The mark. You were so afraid you had ruined the tree. At the time, you didn't see that this was only a very small part of the tree. The tree shall continue to grow tall, with extended branches and leaves blooming into a vivacious, natural miracle. The mark on the trunk will always remain, but each year it becomes lesser and lesser of the tree. Tonight is just a mark on your tree, Brandon. When you grow older and succeed into the loving and hard-working man that I know you are, this memory will be nothing more than a small mark on your tree."