Trashed

Trashed on the middle of the streets, screwed up there. There is one thing or someone else outside a wallmart, drinking his ice cream with countless cones in it. Basically it's pack of mini ice cream dominated with chocolate with green seasons. It's summer 1982, Tommy sits down on the floor outside the minimall. Don't aware right beside him are undefined trash can. There are blue, yellow, and red bin without direct classification. This day is a common day for average teenagers for hangin around with their friends. Different for Tommy. The season is actually pretty well, just like the ice cream he eating with his tongue. Sweet, or maybe sweet. Just graduated from Revere Middle School in Ohio. What he do mainly walking aroud bushes in the forest. Sometimes a deer running around like there's some carnivora animals while there aren't any of them. Or baseball players from high school running at it to be eaten together. Become steak, or just like normal meat, fried or boiled. Actually this poor boy like to bettering himself. After three years of nonsense anxious mind lead him to brokeness, burnout, or anything wasted. Couldn't identified as anything stereotypical. Not nerd, jocks, greasers, townies, goth,and even non clique students. With his walkman tied on his neck to his chest, played montage song to make his feeling better. Just like usual, he packed those ice cream into a meal box. Somehow melted tasted better than iced, then throw it into his small blue bag. There are two guys with red parasites jacket with manual bike talking, make Tommy smiling at them. Imagining himself as part of them. "Hey man how's Jimmy's bike, you heard his own trashed, right?" "Around the bushes, maybe." "Then why he didn't take it back?" "He's unconsious, then after woke up, his bike dissapeared." "There should be someone stole it." "But who?" "Who guess?" "Whatever man, this late December tournament begins. Don't let your butt whopped again by that kid again, hahahaha." "Just ride, man." "Let's ride!" Tommy smirks, knowing about Jimmy's bike. Three of them are his seniors back in 1976, just two years age swapped. With his red bicycle, back to his empty caravan. Simple but at least he could feels warm and comfortable in it. "Sorry Jimmy, but it's more matched here." He plans to modified it. Sitting on the wooden table because there's no chair. Only itchy sofa just like in regular barbershops. Eating those melted ice cream that more like thick milk with an alumunium spoon. Turn on the thick television. Appearing the commercial of Tang Soo Doo Competition. Tommy remembered what both of biker guys talked about on the parking lot. Eating or more like drinking it in a rush to start his training. He didn’t believe those peoples say that body genetics beat all of kind of hard work. Genetic could be the reason, but not all the time. Training alone makes him even more concentrated rather than join countless sports groups just to identified as “jock”. He believes himself could beat all of them. And most of purely talented without strong dedication only sweeped by years. There’s no field around the forest, so he runs randomly with long tracks, or even without tracks, searching for incline roads. Try to do sets of bodyweight workout on his room, just three rooms in his caravan by the way. Bedroom, toilet, and kitchen counted as living room with a tv on the corner side of the kitchen, hanged above the board. The walkman is from his dad on Reseda, California. He walks outside. He likes walking around proves he’s not antisocial, but there’s something holding his mind. Something secret, he don’t even realized it. That’s cold night, feels good at his skin. A bottle of coors, walking to the big tall tree like he did two years ago. Don’t know what’s going on in his mind. Just climbing the tree and sitting at the branch while drink those coors. Don’t even care this is his last day. He sleeped on the branch with his back, leaning his back on the stem. Whole night sleeping there after two bottles.

“Whoock, whoock!” The bird almost eating his faces. Rather than died, he wakes up. “What am I doing over here?” Rather questioned more, he starts move his butt, then stretch his body. Left those two bottles. Right after that, he starts runningggg!

“Two worlds collide rival nations, It’s a primitive clash, venting years of frustrations. Bravely we hope against all hope. There is so much at stake, seems our freedom’s up against the ropes. Does the crowd understand? Is it East versus West? Or man against man. Can any nation stand alone.”

“Beeeeeep!” Beetle car runoff him at 29 km/h, his legs reflectly jump into car’s window, smashed it down. “Heyy come in you little dirt!” “Hey you’re the one is wrong, dumbbutt!” “Do I know you from somewhere?” “You look familiar.” “Hold a second.” The not lasting unknown guy come outside the doorstep. “Tommy my man!” “Chad! You look buffer now.” “Shouldn’t surprised about that. You look far better too.” “I know man, we both have a hard time during those times.” “Do you think it’s wise to forget all of that stuff behind our backs?” “Those can be our lesson to be better. But regretness? I don’t think so.” “It’s normal man. Look at your shirt, do you just came out from the bushes?” “Not particularly. I was slept under the tree.” “You did what?” “It’s comfy actually. Don’t worry about me.” They don’t care about that car. It looks pretty old but still have a pretty looks. Just the window touched the front slide. Both Tommy and Chad running, unintentional race. “You pretty though, Tommy boy!” “Shut up man, I’m focus!” “You have pretty legs too, hahahaha!” “Arggh!” “What are we going anyway?” “My caravan!” “Allright, let’s have a beer! It’s good for strength!” “And more badass!” Tommy won the race, not really tough competition. “Here it is, home sweet home” Tommy said it nicely.” “You gotta be kidding me. It’s amazing!” “It’s rock man!” “How about this curly guitar?” “It’s stolen.” “You’re great, man! From who?” “Our senior at school, back in the day in middle school.” “Who?” “Jack.” “Man you’re killing yourself ain’t you?” “Maybe.” “You need to safe your life man! Heard from someone his power punch is 80 grams!” “Don’t worry man, I know the trick!” “Hey Tommy, get your butt over here!” “Oh dirt, man!” “Stay inside.” “No! I don’t wanna lose you. You’re my best friend, maybe only!” “Whatever. Let’s go outside.” To provoke a reaction, Tommy kicked the doorhouse.” Somehow the door is separated from where it was stand, flying towards him. Only him!