My Antithesis

He sat calmly in his highchair; chin furnished with hair that spoke of wisdom and character. Ray certainly felt that he was successful in his livelihood and career, what with having collected garbage for the city so many years. He worked from the bottom, and got to the top…the successor of all successes.
Jay lived in a trailer, deep in the tendrils of Orlando, Florida. Those who have been around the wonderfully scenic portion of the rotten boroughs of Orlando, you would know that this is not something in which one would brag about. Jay bragged it, for it was what he had, and he didn’t care. He had a wife and 3 kids; all who worked and helped him pay for things.
Dare you ask what he needs help paying for? Beer! Beer for Jay! Yes—the drink of the Gods and all that is sanctified and holy. Jay was an alcoholic living in a trailer, in the slums of Orlando, and collected trash. Fairy tale in some opinions, others not so much, but there is a happy part of Jays life, his wonderful wife Carrie.
Carrie grew up in a white suburban home, parents are both successful doctors. She now lives in a trailer in the slums of Orlando, Florida—married to a trash collecting king! What makes her life so special, is her bruises. Badges of honor, signs of courage and strength, and a drunk husband who likes to swing.
As Carrie made the meager dinner of biscuits and beans, the unschooled children cried in despair as Jay yelled and screamed for her to hurry the hell up. Dinner was not happening fast enough, no matter the speed. Anything beyond instant is not good enough while you’re blinded by your drunkenness. He grabbed her by the collar, brow furrowed in rage, and bit his bottom lip. The kids knew what was happening and headed for their single bedroom—a section of the trailer flagged for under-18 activities.
She cried. She bled. She shook. And she cried. He drank, escaping anything logical in the world in a sick hope that he wouldn’t have to deal with it later. There are always repercussions with your choices in life, Jay knew this by heart. Not only did he drink himself to get away from her and them, he refused to let her and his kids live normally.
Control was the name of this blasphemous game. Alcohol fueled his rage of course, but so did the lack of control. The constant trash he sees every day. Old papers, cartons and tins, discarded food items. All of it was worthless to him. Jay burned inside more when he saw the trash at home, what he created and no longer could control. And so he drank.