Phoenix.
–-----------------
4 hours after Ronnie drank the “answer”
Last I remember I was done. My throat was on fire and I was well, done. I guess I was wrong. I wonder how my breath smells? Like bleach? Ewww.. That wasn't smart.
Ronnie started rolling. Making snow angels, celebrating life. When delirium departs it comes again in a another shape. It goes from a confused woman with hair that changes color as you stare too the same woman talking you off of a roof onto the ground. She makes you insane.
The door opens and Ronnie freezes, the lady giggles and vanishes. He sits up and stares at a wall contemplating what to do now until his father speaks.
“Ronnie... where are you?” His father one who has always one to whisper and it didn't change yet.
“At the lever land ranch chasing the dreams of lunatics.”
His father sighs of course he had to raise the smart ass. That ungrateful clown that never took the blame. That one kid who screamed back at the teacher when everyone else was trying to accomplish something and not fail.
“Ronnie, cut the s#*t. Your teacher called me at work, YOUR FAILING?” He is done. He's done taking a back seat and letting his son figure it out on his own like Ronnie wanted.
“Yeah about that.. umm.. yeah.. like.. I got this. Honestly can anyone really understand the teacher? He may have said I am passing with an A! Why do you believe him over me? Huh?” He started strong but worry set in and his father is walking close. He's going to see what Ronnie tried to do. He is going to send Ronnie to a insane asylum for a day or 3.
S#*t, does he have to do this... NOW?!
Ronnie hops up and slides on some of the liquid he spilled earlier. He's done trying and he lays waiting for the screams. His father walks slowly, why rush into a fight with your son after all? He turns the corner into the kitchen and his jaw drops. All color from his face is gone.
“What, happened, to you?”
“Nothing dad. I just kind of dropped some stuff and fell over. Thats all I swear!”
“Your, face. Is blood red.” He stares. Just stares he hasn't moved at all besides to speak.
“WHAT? NO. DAD! HELP ME!” Tears would be pouring like a fountain but they aren't. They can't.
His dad stops standing and starts crying for his son. The tears drip onto the bleach riddled floor.
“Dad.. help me. WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! I AM NOT A JOKE! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!” Rage builds inside him, his cheeks would be flush. It's to late for that. He slams his fists to the ground.
TTSCH
The bleach caught fire. The fridge is in pieces, the sink is bending into little balls of metal like a Salvador Dalí painting. His dad runs on instinct terrified of his son. Possibly the worst feeling ever. His house in in shambles, falling apart while his son screams for help. Thinking about it he knows he should of helped. He still wants to help, he hops in his car and goes to get the one person who he can get quickly that can stop this.
“DAD! WHAT AM I DOING! DAD. Don't leave.. me..” Silence sets in he looks at his hands and wonders how he knows what makes the bleach drops on his hand? Confused and terrified he gets up accidentally he floats up and his feet leave the ground. All those times he wished he could fly away from everyone here and be gone and now he can. It makes him want to hug his dad. Not having your feet on the ground is what people want but when they have it? They don't want it, it reminds him of swimming except his dad never taught him to fly.
“God? Help me?” He looks around and at his feet which are also red as the balloon, IT tried to give that little kid from the sewer.
Am I naked? Ewww...
He unknowingly has his head on fire now, it isn't known if it is because when he got mad he lit off like a bomb or anything. At this moment he is one of a kind to his city. The closest he has heard about strange things going on was the rumors. He thought they were lame, why do it for no money? Why do it at all? Why is he still naked anyway? If he asked could he get Kimbo Slice's autograph through the grant a wish foundation? Will girls still look at him without vomiting? Thoughts like these happen while his Father looks for Sebastian. Ronnie is just standing above the ground by a few feet getting close to the roof messing around with fire in his palm. Rolling them in his hand like meditation balls. Just thinking about regular every day things like how is college going to work?
His father is slamming his fist on Sebastian's door.
“HOLD ON! I AM COMING!”
The door opens.
“Oh? Hey Mistah R. Ronnie ain't here. Wait.. you been crying? Need some tissues?” Sebastian ends his sentence with a shrug.
“No, come with me. Ronnie needs you. Now.. please... help. I don't know. I don't get it. It's crazy he was being a smart ass so I went to yell at him and I don't know..” The tears start rolling down his face, again.
“Sure. My mom doesn't care If I go out right now.” He starts to walk to the car, and nothing was said during the car ride. Silence can heal.
When they arrive home Ronnie was messing with metal to see how close he could get a metal shirt to feel like fabric. Simple tasks like these seem to be keeping him sane. He's on the fence, the tightrope and the brink. Simultaneously. He knows the door is opened and he waits for someone he has every area covered so this won't be awkward in that regard. He tenses as he hears someone walk closer. The bleach in the kitchen starts to spark up again.
The door swings open and Ronnie turns around and waves. He notices it is Sebastian, with that grin only those two share he says “Laugh and I'll kill you.” He just wishes he could cry.
He quickly rebukes with “Big talk for an anorexic Kool aid man.”
“I think I need help.”
“Don't we all?”
“Not the kind I need.”
“I'll go with, got nothin' better to do.”
“Thanks man."
“So I don't think me calling you butterfingers will fit anymore. What about Torch?”
“No, that sounds lame.”
“It'll be alright man.”
“I hope so.”
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