nightlycontradiction

He was young. I mean, it’s not surprising that a young kid got caught up and needed a lawyer, but he wasn’t like the others I’ve defended. They were used to the process. They’ve seen it before or they have friends or family that they’ve gone through this with. Angelo Harris was different. Is different. Angelo looked at me with the eyes of someone trapped in a cage where they don’t belong. A rarity in Terror Town. He was picked up on a weapons charge and taken out of mother’s home after getting off of his part time job working at a convenience store. By all accounts it should be an open and shut case

I could have been one of you. Yes you. The one reading this. . . Journal? Diary? Manifestó? Skip that, it’s not what this is that’s important. Just like who i am isn’t important. It’s what I have to say that’s the important part. I’m not saying I’m some sort of cautionary tale or something, I’m just a man who, once upon a time, had everything. Had being the key word. But back to what I was saying. I could have a 9-5. Family. White picket fence. All that shit. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. Believe me, I tried. I worked hard, went to school, became an attorney and started my o

He finds his way to a bar, full of smoke. Dozens inside, yet he finds solitude in a corner. Whiskey, no ice. Leave the bottle As he lights a cigarette, he watches the flame dance It reminds him of her. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. The waitress leaves the bottle with a smile. Appraising him, she introduces herself as Sara He replies with a smile, “Jack”. He pours himself a shot and downs it just as quickly, the dirt liquid hitting his stomach like a brick. It’s closing time. He hasn’t moved. The bottle down a quarter. The world has gone on without him. Sara returns in a sundress this time. She was pretty. Beauti

He stared, longing, out his window Searching for something Anything to distract him from what gnawed at his heart Those who saw him whispered, “Is it death? Sickness? He’s so young” No. No death made him withdraw so far. No malady robbed him of his spirit. And yet none could explain his shattered demeanor. What robbed him of the smile he once had? What made his once warm brown eyes dull? How did he become the shell of what he once was?

He had learned how to love How to care How to laugh How to cry How to fight How to kill. And yet as he continued trying to drown his sorrows, Chasing that elusive numbness, There was one thing he never learned. How to forget.