A simple book of poetry.
Mark couldn’t believe this could happen. Revenge was going to be swift and sweet. For sure he could depend on the brothers to handle this.
The word family was now tarnished and Mark figured this sort of thing should never happen especially by a family member. Once he got to the house Mark found out something he could not comprehend. The brothers already knew. In fact it was brag about by the offender. The general consensus was “it’s no big deal.” What no big deal how dare they. “Untouchable” They said. Mark was infuriated.
When Mark told them He would get his in the end; the response was “Bro’s Before Hoe’s”
Now that the brotherhood had reared its ugliness, Mark was bewildered. He didn’t know where to turn. He wondered the streets for hours, refusing to go to the local hangouts; not wanting to be around anyone. His anger consumed him. He left a trail of Vandalism in his path. Tipping garbage cans, punching out car windows, lighting fires in parks as passed through them. Mark never felt like he had nowhere to turn before. What was he going to do? Who knows but he was going to do something.
Mark slipped away from consciousness, his anger over took all sense. He roamed on auto mode, dazed and confused.
When Mark came to he wasn’t too sure of where he was. He could feel that he had been rested and was ready to go. When He heard a familiar voice. “Coffee and Doobies ready bro.”
Hearing that word ‘Bro’ made him cringe a bit. But Mark recognised the voice as his good friend Ryan Bowen. Ryan and Mark grew up together. Both came from the same town and moved to the city only weeks apart.
“Hey, what’s up?” Mark said.
“Don’t know; you tell me.” Ryan said. “Found you in my garage at six in the morning, when I was going to work.”
“What time is it?” Mark questioned.
“Five-Thirty. Seems like you slept the day away.”
“Oh wow. Have I got a story to tell you.” Mark then explained in detail the events about the rape and his temper tantrum that ensued.
Mark learned at an early age that he was different. As a matter of fact he was repeatedly told so throughout his life. Special classes at school, special counselling, family members and lovers always reminding him how “special” he was. Nothing specific; just “you’re special.” After schooling was done he didn’t feel so special anymore. The counselling stopped but the reminders continued and without anyone telling him what it was that made him special it started sounding condescending and malicious.
Mark spent most of his time running the streets, which he considered his kingdom. He was the man. Anything you needed he would get. He was very resourceful and knew his way around the resources available to the needy. This brought many a person to him looking for aide. The streets had their own rules and he knew how to use them to his advantage. With all this he spent most of his time helping others cause he knew not how to help himself. He had a make shift shack in the woods and offered it to anyone out in the cold. Nothing was nailed down so anything he ever considered his was ravaged through and, for the most part, stolen. He lost everything he owned more than once and it no longer bothered him. If people that called themselves family couldn’t be trusted then nobody else could either.
His need to help others left him in a bad position many a time. When he was young he was so lost that he hung on to the shirt tails of anyone who mention a bond as firm as family. To him it meant a lot to have someone call him friend or family. One man led him a stray for years. He was ten years or so older then Mark and repeatedly called Mark “the younger brother he never had.” This led Mark to believe that this man would never harm him. He used Mark for everything he had. Smokes, booze, drugs, cash, even his girlfriend wasn’t off limits.
One night while Mark was at work, the most horrid of event unravelled. He returned to his shack around one in the morning to find his girlfriend at his table. She had been crying and looked very distraught. “Please don’t hate me.” Was all she said.
“Why on Earth would I hate you?” Marked questioned her. He was tired and at the end of his wits trying to support himself, and stay on top of things as once again his’ Brother’ need help while he was at work. He gave him a hundred dollars so he could get his fix and not have to something like rob a store to get it.
“It was horrible…. He was high…. All I could smell was whiskey….He said he wasn’t going to hurt me…. Then he pulled a knife and told me to strip. He kept apologizing…. Said it was something he had to do…. It would prove I loved you if I could be honest with you about it….”
“I’ll kill him. I don’t need to hear the rest.” Mark responded and left.
Mark is a mentally unstable man. He has come accross many individuals throughout his journey in life and these are some of the stories. I use the name Mark as everyone is somebody else’s mark for something or another; but this could be anyone you know or think you know, the guy beside you on the bus, accross the room at the coffee shop or fellow co-workers. Mark’s journey is a personal fight with everyday life and shows how mental illness can effect everyone.
Just trying to keep my instructor happy. Don’t really have anything to say at the moment but we are being taught how to blog from Word so I’m just going through the strokes.
Hello world of word press. I’m new here. Hope we can have some fun and share some stories.