Drifters: The First Generation

2

January 21, 2019
Los Angeles, California
8:45 p.m.

Jamie Hardy strolls down Sunset Boulevard, enjoying the breeze of the day. His left hand resides in his pocket where a baggie is filled with prescription drugs crushed into powder. He had gotten the supply from a guy he met in downtown LA, before he left to return home. Now, he was headed to his father’s house in Holmby Hills. He had been walking for two days, with stops in between, from Downtown LA.

Once, Jamie used to have a car. He even used to have his own place. His house used to be in Bel-Air, just outside of UCLA, his old college. It was the kind of house that made women frisky and men envious. His car used to be a Jeep Rubicon sports edition with tinted windows and shiny exterior. Oh yeah, Jamie Hardy used to have it all.

When Jamie dropped out of college two years back, his father disowned him and kicked him out. Although, Jamie left before his father could say the words. Jamie thought about his decision every day, and he never felt remorse. Jamie loathed his father with a passion. Because of him, Jamie’s mother was dead.

They found her body in a ditch. Her body was so burnt, they almost couldn’t identify her. If it weren’t for the clothes she was wearing that day being perfectly intact on her body, they never would’ve known her. Some days, Jamie liked to think he preferred it if they hadn’t even found her at all. Her corpse haunted his nightmares, his father always laughing in the background, mocking Jamie for not being able to save her. She had died during a school day when Jamie was seventeen and he had never gotten over it.

Jamie was in West LA for his mother. He figured he would go break into his dad’s house, kill him like he had killed his mother, take him to the cemetery where Jamie’s mother was buried, and dig him a lovely little hole to live in for eternity. Jamie was so tired of his father haunting his dreams and his every waking moment. No matter where he went, his father followed. With that came the grief and anger and delusions.

So, here was Jamie now: high as a kite as he went on a deranged mission to kill his father. As he walked by Michael Jackson’s house and crossed onto North Carolwood Drive, he was reminded of the bracelet around his wrist. Jamie never took off the bracelet his mother gave him when he was fifteen, the one with his initials engraved. The metal was marbled meteorite. His mother had said, “I customized it to represent how special you are.”

He never forgot her; every decision and every moment revolved around her. Every moment leading up to this was riddled in the memory of her. Jamie strode confidently to his destination, coming up on the corner of Brooklawn and North Carolwood, the tops of his father’s roof coming into view. Jamie almost wanted to run the rest of the way, but he knew he needed to save his energy.

The backyard was dark as he slipped through the back gate. Crossing his fingers, Jamie tried the back door with his old key. Turns out the old man never changed the locks, as luck would have it. Jamie victoriously slipped through and closed the door silently behind him. The rest of the house was dark, shadows encompassing all the corners. Once upon a time, Jamie used to be afraid of the dark. The kind of dark like now, where things were hidden and you couldn’t tell a difference.

Jamie stopped being afraid of the dark when he found out what could happen in the dark. He never had to doubt that he could die a horrible way and he was alright with that. As long as he knew what was coming, anything was evitable. Death was always inevitable, drugs helped remind Jamie of that. He had a number of small overdoses already. He had stayed alive long enough to see this night happen.

He gripped the rail as he made his way up the stairs. He knew his father’s routine well enough to know he would be home, already in bed catching up on the sleep he consistently missed due to his job. Jamie’s footsteps were quiet on the stairs, the newly renovated home had no squeaks in the floorboards and the floor was covered in carpet. Besides the locked doors, it was almost like his father was asking to be murdered.