Black Palms
Mike Tkachuk

PREFACE
The feeling of regret and anger washed through me as I watched the world of artificial happiness turn into a dark and morbid place. If I could go back to the beginning I knew I would not have done things differently, but I wished someone would force me to a stop. The friends that I once thought I had, I have not seen for what I think was over a month. I have had thoughts that I was on the wrong path many times, but I threw those thoughts away and enjoyed the absence of life that I was undergoing.
The golden sparkling spectacles that represented sand were turning into fiery charcoals. The green grass that was exactly ten meters away from sparkling ocean water was turning darker and darker and the ocean itself was not filled with water but the reflection of all the bad and evil thoughts that are going through my mind. It wasn’t only my haven changing, it was also me. I felt all the happiness that I previously felt running through my veins leave completely just to get replaced by demonic thoughts and wants, no not wants needs for more.

1. LIFE REMAINS LUCID
The wind is gently blowing the warm but cool air as if it was making a countdown for me to jump back into the warm pool water, surrounded by teenagers of my age. This is what I live for, the loud music playing in the background, the alcoholic beverages being passed around as if they were candy, not one person has had too much to drink, but we all are at the point where shyness is not a problem and energy and fun has corrupted our minds. As I take three long strides and make a perfect dive into the refreshing but warm water, I awake.
I should have realized that one person’s reality is my dream. As I stretch I realize that the worst reality has just entered my mind, today is the first day of school. A feeling of anger and mostly sadness runs through me, giving a heavy feeling on my chest. I get up and grab my asthma breather and inhale. As I take a couple of deep breaths I force myself to stand up. I walk toward my window and all I see are groups of friends walking towards the school bus engaged in descriptions of the summer fun they had. I close my eyes and repeat the same words I have repeated since grade school.
“Just a little bit more”
As I say these words I once again gain a little bit of power. I only have one year left of high school and then I can make my own life, things will change. The one thing that paid off for not having many friends were the good marks that I was receiving, which are supposed to lead you to a better future, but that meant little to me, I would at anytime trade my three point seven average for a couple of friends and a hangout spot.
I walked toward my dresser and browse through the large pile of clothes I have. Clothes were never really the problem, I buy a new wardrobe for every single new style the kids in school start to wear. I already got this month’s style through the deep observations I make, usually out of my window due to the fact that I don’t get out much. I put on the jeans that no longer are too large or too tight for me, and an expensive shirt with many interesting designs. As I walked down the stairs of my three story mansion I could hear my parents already engaged in an argument, I have learned to ignore this because of its frequency, wondering why they have not had a divorce yet. I have not even shed one tear in my life for their fighting, it has never bothered me, they were never much of parents to begin with. All they did was drive me to school and make me food, I don’t even remember the last time we had a conversation lasting longer than a few minutes. As I walked into the large sun roofed kitchen I noticed the maid has already laid out my favorite cereal, I slowly poured the chocolaty cereal first followed by the milk. I looked at the clock and let a minute pass by letting the cereal get the right amount of moisture and sogginess.
“Let’s go I’m going to be late” I yelled hearing the echo that has begun to annoy me long ago, hearing a premature voice is not always fun especially when it is your own.
As my mother walked into the kitchen I noticed that her soul was crying but she was holding it in and keeping strong, my mother was a strong women, she has never depended on anyone else including me and my father, I think the reason why she is not the loving mother you see on television is because she has been through things that people only see on reality television. We used to be close before she became the vice-president of her realtor company, she told me many stories of her childhood many including her not having a home to live but still going to school and getting everything out of life she needs.
I put on my four hundred dollar Nike sneakers and walked out the large wooden door. On my drive way sat 3 luxury cars and a small sports car I was promised if I finished high school with an above three point five average. Lurching side to side in my mother’
for the rest of the chapter tell me through e-mail, any help would be greatly appreciated.

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