Time After Time || Chris Cornell

3. PART 1: The Basement Incident

Seattle Washington, March 10 1980

(Chris is 15, Andi is 18)

"Picture yourself in a boat on a river
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes..."

CHRIS: Laying on the floor in the basement, the green shag carpeting feeling soft underneath me, I slowly bring the freshly rolled joint up to my lips, flicking the lighter and watching the end catch flame. I take one deep inhale and instantly feel mellow and relaxed with the sweet herbal taste tickling my taste buds. The stereo speakers turned towards me, the booming bass of George Harrison vibrates through the floor, while John Lennon's voice takes me on a trip of magic proportions.

Another day here in my bubble, listening to the melodic sounds of The Beatles, drowning my anxiety ridden frame trying to forget about the horrible sadness that just seems to come out of nowhere sometimes. Most of the time I'm alright but sometimes I just wish I didn't have to face the world.

I dropped out of school back in the fall so I could get a job at Ray's Boathouse diner downtown. Working in a hot kitchen and sweating over fryers isn't the most glorious job in the world, but we need the money. I'm the youngest of three boys and the only male left in the household - Peter moved out just a few months ago and Patrick hasn't lived here since I was 10 - so I have to help my mom out somehow. I still visit Peter though, especially when it gets too crazy for me here.

Since my parents divorce last year, the house has been a lot more peaceful than it had ever been before. Their constant fighting was pretty much a regular thing around here ever since I can remember. I haven't heard from my father since they split and I don't care to either. It's not like he ever showed me much attention anyways unless it was to beat my ass and criticize every little thing I did.

My mother bought me a drum set for my birthday last summer which honestly was the best gift my mom could have ever gave me. I love that fucking drum set to death though I'm pretty sure I drive her insane with all my playing. She never complains though, but she is probably just too pre-occupied with my sisters to really care.

So here I am laying on the floor, immersing myself in the wonderful world of The Beatles, smoking some sweet weed that I was able to pick up from a friend and letting everything float away.

"Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers
That grow so incredibly high"

Suddenly there was a crazy sound coming from the bathroom, at the far back of the basement. I flick my eyes open and exhale a cloud of smoke as it startles me out of my musical bubble. I hear the sound again and sit straight up, reaching up and turning down the music.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice cracking, my brow furrowing in worry.

Silence.

I sit there for a few moments listening to see if it was just all in my head, thinking it's probably just the weed, but I don't feel high yet. Then another noise, coming from the bathroom. It sounds like someone rustling around, like they were trying to be quiet about it, but if there was someone in there, how would they have gotten in? There's no window in the bathroom to climb through and I certainly didn't see or hear anyone come downstairs.

I climb to my feet, butting out the joint in the ashtray and look around for the baseball bat that I have stashed behind my stereo, you know, just in case. I grab the bat and slowly walk towards the back of the basement, listening for more sounds as I try to contain my fear. I may be 15 but fuck this is scaring the shit out of me.