Were the World Mine

                                                Were the World Mine

Pain, shooting repulsively through to the very limits of my fingertips.  Vision blurred, I move my head around, urgently searching for a point of recognition, yet I find none. The only thought I can validate is that I have never felt this way before: overwhelming vulnerability and every limb on my body was screaming for a fraction of my semi-conscious attention.  A flash of darkness enthralls me, begging for me to join it at its ominous side. Giving in would be for the best, but I have to do be better than that, be better than a failure…

Eric Leeman. Twenty-two. And yet, as I stumble out of the burned wreckage, I feel eons older than that. The sky is blackened with smoke, seeping from the scattered machinery. The sickening scent hits my nose: burnt flesh. Lives disintegrating before my eyes and I remain stationary, I am responsible for the massacre that lay ahead. The pain that I have created is a reality. My reality. Two less drinks and the flood shed on the sidewalk would have never been there.

As I reach slowly for the telephone, my hand begins to throb. I retrieve my Advil and black coffee as ‘Ghostbusters’ repeats for the third time, signaling an ignored call. I sigh to myself as I swallow the pill down with a slosh of straight cocoa bean in liquid form. Cramming. It’s just the worst. And the thing that makes it even worse is that it’s all my fault. Again. Procrastination is my self-inflicted adversary; forever present, yet I always indulge… CONCIOUSLY. Biology 300. My last examinable college course and it’s just the same. No matter how many times I promise Mom, Dad or even Aunt Helen that I’ll study before the night prior, I will never promise myself. My mother always tells me: “Every action you make in the present, defines your future.” I realize that for every time I opt out, I’m only directly screwing myself over. I flip the cell phone open and it displays a notification depicting that I received three missed calls. I didn’t even have enough ethic to call someone back as soon as I could. A glimmer of guilt inspired to press redial and wait to the mind-bending annoyance of a dial tone.
“ERIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!’
John. Of course. The underachieving binge partier of Law 200.
“Hey, John. I’m just studying for my Bio 300 final, so…” I mumbled, not amused.
“Get down to Katy’s, man. Or you’ll regret it.”
“Can’t. I’m studyi-“
“Look, dude. Every party you miss screws your chances of getting into more parties… duh.”
Oddly enough, what he was proposing in his drunken stupor perfectly reflected my mother’s advice that caused me to easily accept the invitation.

Six beers later I was making my rounds in the party. I’d already gotten two numbers but five was my ultimate record. Why NOT reach for the stars?
“Hey. Eric, is it?”
I turned to see a gorgeous blonde who I recognized as my T.A. from Bio 300. Finally all the raised hands and nonsense questions had paid off.
“Hi Elise. What’s up?”
“I could ask the same to you, Mr. Party before his early morning final.”
A rush of anxiety ran through me as I registered her words.
“No, no, no. It’s at eight, I’ve got all day to study.”
“No, Eric. If you HAD attended your last class, you would know that your professor moved it to eight in the morning.” She explained, a tense look in her eyes.

The engine erupted as my keys slammed into the ignition, the screech of the tires piercings as I backed out swiftly.  I sped down the deserted back roads for as long as my distorted perception advised me and then turned dangerously sharp onto the freeway. Horns honked in protest as I swerved to speed into another line appeared to be moving faster. If I had just gone to class none of these people would angry, my eyes, head and mouth- oh hell, my entire body wouldn’t feel destroyed and most importantly I wouldn’t have slammed on the gas rather than the brake just as the truck ahead changed lanes.

         I ran back towards my car, which reeked of gas and the iron of stained blood. I reached for my phone, broken glass cutting at my wrists and hazily called 911, just as my reality came to an end.