#.indierptrenowl.

[sisky-bizz]

If this really is goodbye, then let’s set the world on fire ||2018

JANUARY 8TH, 1988.

To my understanding, was a day of celebration. A celebration of love and life and new beginnings for a small family living in Chicago. On the eighth day, of the first month, and the year nineteen eighty-eight, a baby was born. He was not destined to change the world, or save lives, or to become a legend. He was normal. Painfully normal, born into a normal family, though it was loving and nurturing and protective and proud family. The baby could not begin to imagine the world that would lie outside of the mother’s arms he was born into.

JANUARY 8TH, 2005.

It was on his 17th birthday that the youngest siska should have realized that his life was not as normal as he had once believed. He still wasn’t destined to change the world, yet here he was presented with the opportunity to see it. To travel and visit the world, playing music with the people that he loved. Or at least he had been, until he woke up in the hospital bed and threw up the numerous Ritalin pills he had consumed. The doctors had thrown a label at him, and medication to join it. He wasn’t sure he had fully understood what ADHD had even meant, never mind what the pills could do to him, all that he knew was that they stopped him from feeling like his mind was running at a hundred miles a minute, so he hadn’t fully understood why the fourth one he’d taken had him feeling dizzy, or why the ninth had sent him crashing to the floor of the studio. He’d spent a few days in the too bright, too quiet room, debating how best he could avoid finding himself in a hospital again in the future.

JANUARY 8TH, 2009.

His 21st birthday was the night of bad decisions. His only encounters with intoxication had been prescribed medication, consumed in bulk accidentally once. Until now, the boy had only dreamt of being free to drink alcohol, to experiment with the lifestyle of sex, drugs ontop of the rock and roll he had been promised.

By 21, he had been successful. He had a band, a career that he loved and talent that people could not wait to pay to see. He was admired, and he was dumb. Dumb enough to let his friend make a decision for him that would change his life. Gabe Saporta was a bad influence, and Siska craved every second of his attention. It was his twenty first birthday when Adam took the first hit that would nestle deep inside of his system, an addiction that he would never kick.

JANUARY 8TH, 2015.

/IF I SHOULD DIE AND I AM 27 THEN AT LEAST I WILL DIE A LEGEND/ The 27 club. Hendrix, Jones, Joplin, Morrison, Cobain, Whinehouse. Some people would consider it a tragedy, or stupidity. But not me, no, I call it a normal reaction to a fucked up life – drugs, alcohol, addiction, homicide, suicide. To me, they were legends.

At 27, this would have been a statement, it would have been considered an accomplishment of heroism or defiance. I would have been remembered.

But instead, I was sat in an examination room of Lovelace Mental Hospital, with Dr Aaron Hoskin prodding and probing at the needle marks on my arms, at the burns covering my body with a grimace, a grimace that I would soon grow to know all too well.

JANUARY 8TH, 2017.

The first year that I remember my birthday for something good. It was celebrated. Even Jack hadn’t bothered with birthdays, sometimes I think I should have questioned why. But right now, I was comfortable in my pjs, Flynn excitedly bouncing on the bed with his hands wrapped tightly around a brightly decorated boy. I was in love, with the boy and his mother who watched happily from the doorway. I am still in love with that moment, and I will cherish it with me forever. I know that I would give anything to have that feeling back, to tell Hayley that I forgive her and beg for her forgiveness in return. But, I can’t change the past, only the future, I just hope that they are happier.

JANUARY 8TH, 2018.

/CAN YOU TAKE ME HIGHER?/                This is the first appointment I have attended in months, since Aaron dragged me to his office himself. But now, Dr Benson is flitting around the office to locate my file, nervous hands flicking through the papers. While his attention is diverted, I swipe a bottle of medication from his desk. He’s new here, and I feel bad for him. I wonder how many patients he has helped, what kind of state’s he’s seen people in. I almost apologize to him as he excuses me from his office.

I find myself visiting the infirmary, hovering around the bed of the blonde girl. She was asleep, and she looked peace and I hoped that she was not in pain. I hoped, but doubted, that the ‘accident’ stated on her charts was true. I realize I’d love to comfort her properly, to hold her hand and cry that I need her to get better. But instead, I take advantage of Dr Prince’s back being turned to swipe a needle and syringe from the tray by Hayley’s bed and excuse myself from her bedside, hurrying back to my own room.

I’d love to say that I was regretting it. That I was nervous for what I am about to do. The truth is, I have done this countless time before, only this time there was nobody left to miss. I would love to claim that I have declarations of love and apologies to make but I don’t. Not anymore. I do wish that Aaron had of made a different decision and sent me back to America when I had begged, that he didn’t need to see this. I hope, that instead, he hears about this in passing conversation and simply grimaces like he did the first time that we met.

Truthfully, 30 years is too long to live. To long to suffer and drag myself through this life. Far too long…

               What is a beautiful life?

               Without a beautiful death?

Adam settled back on the bed once everything was prepared, tying one of the shoelaces from his gifted converse around his arm. He took a breath to settle himself, his teeth clutching around the end of a lit cigarette as he closed his eyes. The movement felt natural as he raised his hand, pushing the head of the needle into his skin. He inhaled sharply, letting the mix of toxins in his system and smoke dancing around him drag him away from his fucked up world…