Firsts

I would be grateful for any feedback on my story or my writing.

Anything that can help me get better as an author.

This story contains implications of sensitive and potentially unsettling themes.

“It was pouring that day. Like many other mornings, I woke up on a bench in Central Park. I was hungry and completely soaked. So, I decided to get some food from the shop across the street - ‘get’ meaning 'steal' of course. When I returned to the bench I had slept on, I saw a very intimidating figure standing next to it.

He walked towards me and uttered the words:

‘Hello Ray. I come to you with a proposal. I’m Jeffrey Thompson.’

And that’s the story of how I met Mister Thompson.” Ray summed up.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. He offered me a home and a job. And well, you know the rest."

"What about you, John? How did you get to know him?”

“Very similarly,” John explained.

“I mean, I was a bit older, and it wasn’t raining. But I had left for a few minutes and there he was. He offered me a job and a place to live.”

Ray seemed amused.

“It’s funny how we have known each other for twenty years, but the only thing we know about each other’s childhoods is that we were both homeless.”

“And of course, we both got saved by Mister Thompson,” Ray added.

“I guess that's just how being a guy works. I mean, I trust you with my life, but I didn’t know you played piano till last year.”

“It is funny.” John agreed.

“How about this: why don’t we tell each other a bit more about ourselves?”

“Sure.” Ray thought for a second.

“What is your favourite movie of all time?”

John let out a surprised laugh.

“Ohh, well I would have to go for 'Cars', I think... But I was actually thinking a bit more personal.”

“Oh? Enlighten me, please.”

“What was your first experience like?”

“My first what?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t suppose you want me to say it explicitly in this environment?”

Ray looked around the bar and let out a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe not.”

He thought about his past while John was staring at him intently.

“I was thirteen years old-”

‘Wow, thirteen?” John interrupted.

“That’s very young. For me… I think I was like seventeen.”

Ray explained.

“Yeah, I know. I was very young. But in my defence. I was not thinking clearly at all, and I was in a very, very bad place in my life.”

Ray started recollecting.

“It was a rainy day, about two months after I turned thirteen. I was sitting at home when I received terrible news. My parents had both died in a car crash. I had no family to take care of me, and I got sent from orphanage to orphanage. But no matter where I was, I was depressed.  

Ray paused. But quickly continued.

“Anyways, after a few months of being depressed, I figured I would be better off living on the streets. And for some time, I actually felt better. I wasn’t depressed.

Of course, this quickly changed when the inevitable happened. As it started to get colder, life became harder. I was stubborn and stupid and didn’t want to admit that going back to the orphanage was the best option. So, I stayed on the streets, about to enter the worst period of my life.

A few months before I turned fourteen, I met this girl. She had just turned sixteen and, like me, was homeless. We enjoyed each other’s company and roamed the streets together for some time. But the nights grew colder, and we started experimenting with ways to keep warm, if you know what I mean.”

“You mean, as in that was your first time?” John asked.

“Oh no, no, we’re not there just yet. But I’m getting to it.” Ray continued his story.

“We were drinking, smoking, the whole deal. We tried some terrible things and robbed about one store a day. Mostly for beer, sometimes for food, never for sanitary products.

We were very good at it you know. In three months, we didn’t get caught a single time. Of course, this was way before they had all those fancy anti-theft thingies.

One particular evening, after our daily robbing, we decided it would be a good idea to consume all substances, legal and illegal, liquids and powders, in the same hour.

The hour after that may have been the best hour in my entire life. The following week, however, was the worst week of my entire life. Worse than when my parents died.

In that hour a lot of things happened. But I don’t remember any of it. All I remember was that I couldn’t think rationally and that I did something that I never would have done sober. I don’t even remember the event itself. Just the aftereffects.

Ray looked at John, with no expression on his face.

“That’s the story of my first, and I haven’t lived a single day not regretting what I did that night,” Ray confirmed.

“Oh wow, that is one hell of a backstory.” John laughed.

Ray looked at him.

“Yeah well, everyone has a childhood. This story may have been a bit more intense than what you already knew about me, but I don’t suppose it comes to you as a surprise, does it?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, your history is still nothing compared to mine.” John grinned.

“I’m listening,” Ray answered.

“I was young and stupid. Well, not as young as you. I was seventeen. Then again, I was completely sober.” John started telling his story.

“I have told you about the time when I went to see a psychologist right?

Ray confirmed. “Yeah. Your words were - and I quote: ‘If he ever went skydiving, not only would I give him a backpack without a parachute. I would jump with him, with an extra parachute, just to taunt him and watch him beg for the last seconds of his life.”

“Sounds like me.” John laughed.

“I had been to the psychologist a couple of times before, but this afternoon was different. The psychologist was concerned by my behaviour. He said I showed AT&T symptoms or whatever. The point is, I had to take a few tests the week prior.

This afternoon the test results had returned, and the psychologist told me the results were quote, ‘not unpromising’. He said my scores were mostly normal. But apparently, I had some sort of high score on one of the charts. Generally, this disorder isn’t something to worry about. But I have it, like, a lot.

My parents had difficulty taking this news, and it resulted in them treating me differently. I started resenting them for it, and on my next visit to the psychologist, I went mental. I well, started acting up, because of that disorder. So, the psychologist went all nonprofessional and started shouting that I was crazy and he even screamed: ‘get that monster away from me!’ - the monster being me.

“They kept me at the clinic for several days, releasing me only after confirming that I was no longer a threat to myself or others. They wouldn’t give up on me. Unfortunately, my parents did. When I was about to leave the building, the woman at the front desk gave me a note reading ‘don’t come home john’.”

John laughed bitterly.

“I asked the lady if there was any chance they could provide me a bed for the night, but no luck. I guess it was naïve of me to think they hadn’t given up on me at the clinic. They gave up the second the money stopped coming in and they had no more legal obligation.

I spent my first night on the streets. After a month or so I ended up in an orphanage. I actually enjoyed myself there, but every once in a while, I would start acting up. I couldn’t help it.”

John zoned out.

“Imagine how different my life would have been if I just had ADHD or something instead of this stupid disorder.”

He regained his focus.

“After some time, I got kicked out of the orphanage. There was no place for me to go as my entire family had abandoned me. It was starting to get dark, and I prepared myself for what would be a very long night. I had never slept without a roof over my head. It had been an emotional day, and the park bench didn’t provide much comfort, so I had trouble falling asleep.

Something caught my eye. I tried to close my eyes and ignore it, but that something started whispering. I opened my eyes, and looked up annoyedly, only to see a girl offering me food. Everyone that day had been nothing but mean to me, and this girl being sweet came as a real surprise to me. She explained to me that, just like me, she was homeless. She understood my situation and wanted to help me in these hard times. She was just the nicest, beautifullest, awesomest person that had ever walked into my life.”

John laughed towards Ray.

“Second best, the best being you, of course.”

Ray smiled.

“After having such a horrible day, her niceness unlocked a new part of my brain. It was this new sensation, this new urge that I suddenly got, that I had never had before. Does that make sense?”

Ray nodded.

“I don’t know what came over me,” John continued, “but I had this strong urge that needed satisfying. I told the girl to follow me into a narrow alleyway behind a dumpster and she followed me without hesitation.” John paused.

“I can’t say I am proud of what happened next, but…

No wait, I am proud of what I did. I am extremely proud of what I did.”

He started grinning.

“I am extremely proud of what I did. I can’t explain why, but doing what I did to that girl made me feel things I haven’t felt in months. This- this- girl. There was something about this girl. You should have seen me. Phew, the things I did to that girl….” John grinned.

“I did some craaaaazy things to her. Really, you should have seen me.”

“Tmi dude, tmi,” Ray told him.

John ignored him and continued talking.

“Okay, how do I put this not delicately…?

“Dude, please don’t.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re boring.” John sighed.

“Let’s just say, it involved some choking, and you could hear her scream from a mile away. Oh, and she could no longer walk when I was done smashing.”

John laughed at his own words.

“Okay bro, that’s too much detail for me.” Ray laughed gently and continued.

"But yeah, I get what you mean though. My favourite experience to this date was with this chick from Venezuela. It only took me a few minutes, but I enjoyed every second of it. She was a fierce one you know. I still have scars from where her nails dug into my skin!”

John laughed.

“No way!”

Ray laughed back.

“Yes way! Let’s just say. She was a naughty girl, and I gave her what she deserved.”

John thought for a second.

“But you’re weird though? Like, why limit yourself to the ladies? There are enough guys out there that have been - as you like to say - naughty. Why don’t you just take guys too? There is literally no difference.”

Ray gave it some thought.

“I guess there is no difference. But my brain draws a line between acceptable and unacceptable. To you there is no difference, but for me, women only. No men, no kids, no handicapped or retired people, just women. And I know a lot of people in our community find my attitude weird - except for the kids and handicapped of course - but men are just a no for me.

I don’t know how or why my brain works like this, but I compare it to eating meat. Some people don’t eat meat at all, others only eat fish, and then some people eat everything. I know it’s not a great example, but you get it, right?”

John laughed.

“Sure Ray, you do you. Now it’s my turn to tell my favourite.”

“Dude, please don’t. I know that story and don’t want to hear it.” Ray begged.

John ignored him and paused for dramatic effect.

“It was a rainy Sunday morning in Hawaii. This random couple was staying at the same resort as me-”

“Bro, you either shut your mouth, or I walk out of here. You are the weird one between the both of us and you have tortured my eyes more than enough, no need to curse my brain too.” Ray interrupted.

“I’ll summarize.”

“Fine…”

“I saw them in the hotel lobby. And for an entire week, I got to know everything about them. The evening finally came when I got my chance to steal the woman’s heart.”

“Holdup” Ray interrupted.

A beautiful lady wearing a red dress walked into the bar. Her arms were covered in tattoos, and she had a dangerous smile on her face.

Ray grinned. “Target acquired.”

“She’s all yours,” John assured him.

“But you better shoot your shot, cuz if you don’t bag her in ten minutes I will. Just let me finish my story first, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah, go ahead. But hurry up and keep the details to a minimum.”

“Okay, so I learn everything about this couple in that week, right? So, one evening I enter their room, and let’s just say: a knight isn’t afraid to get some blood on his sword. As for the dude. He wouldn’t stop begging for mercy.”

Ray sighed. “Yeah, that’s my cue to leave.”

Ray walked over to the lady and started a conversation.

“Hello there.”

“General Kenobi.” The lady responded without hesitation.

Ray laughed,

“Finally someone that gets the Star Wars reference!”

The lady ignored him and got straight to the point.

“Hello handsome. Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just really happy to see me?”

Ray quickly readjusted his pants.

“Why don’t you follow me, and you can find out.”

They talked for a while, and within a few minutes, John saw them leave, Ray having his arm wrapped around her waist.

‘Poor guy is gonna mess this up so bad.’ John thought.

And sure enough, not much later Ray came running back into the bar.

“Well, that didn’t last long…” John laughed.

“Or did you miss your shot?”

“Yeah, I missed my shot,” Ray said disappointedly.

“I should have been patient and taken my time, but I rushed it and missed my only shot.”

John laughed mockingly.

“I knew you would fail, and you know what that means…

I get to hit that, and I’m gonna show her heaven. But unlike you - and I quote Robbie Williams - I don’t prematurely shoot my load.”

John smiled as he recalled something.

“Oh, and this brings my body count up to one hundred.”

Ray laughed.

“Oh, you are one of those people who keeps track of their body count?”

John ignored him as he was about to leave. Before he walked out the door he turned back.

“What is it?” Ray asked.

“Just now, when you first talked to the lady,” John started,

“Were you happy to see her? Or was it your gun in your pocket?” John asked.

“Yeah, it was my gun. She ran off when she saw it was a gun in my pocket. Before I got the gun out, she had run quite far. I had to shoot quickly, which is why I missed.” Ray said a bit ashamed.

John reassured him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll finish her off for you. When I find her, I am going to do crazy things to her. She is probably hiding behind a dumpster.

John thought for a second.

“A girl behind a dumpster, at night, with me going crazy and smashing her legs to bits.

Wouldn’t it be poetic for my one-hundredth kill to be exactly like my first? Then I will truly have come full circle.”

Now read the story again.