Friday, June 4, 2010

Midnight Manifesto Nugget

12 O'clock. It's 12 O'clock. The fan is blowing air around the room and making me cold. I stare up at the blue wall and focus in on the cracks. "This house is comin' down," I told myself. I smiled. "This house is comin' down." I sat up. I stared straight ahead and furrowed my brow. I slapped the mattress with my right hand. "This house is comin' down!" I said, a little bit louder. This time I sported a quasi-maniacal grin.

In the next room lay my mother. I knew that she heard what I was saying, because I heard her stirring.

I ran to the basement and got the chainsaw. "THIS HOUSE IS COMIN' DOWN!" I started it up.


I cackled as my mother ran into the kitchen, hands aflutter. Protesting.


On her face were lines of terror,
t'was a shame I was the bearer,
the one to rouse her from her slumber
All I could do was yell the number:

From that moment on, wood was cut. The saw snored on through the night and left the entire neighborhood in a frenzy. Bathrobes were donned, phone numbers dialed, a group was gathered, and questions were asked.

Every support beam was left in half. All the floorboards were torn up. My mother's face was indescribable. She ran out of the house long before the deed was done. She was the one who wanted me committed.

By 12:24 the house was uninhabitable because it was a pile of wood.

I gaze upon a sea of kindling,
for all I know it's the beginning
I'll create a hell for me to rule
so I won't have to go to school.

I grabbed some newspaper from under a pile in a basket that was by the fireplace. I struck a match on the concrete driveway and lit the newspaper on fire. I held it under a plank for about a minute until the thing caught on fire. I laughed giddily.

In 5 minutes, the flames were substantial. I danced in front of the not-house and shoved my ancient neighbors around until they were all horrified. I wanted to let them all know I wasn't one of them anymore.

No comments:

Post a Comment